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#I also keep walking around with my coffee like I’m a fucking hall monitor
skyeet-the-writer · 3 years
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okay i’m not sure if you are taking like open requests but corpse and reader are dating and nobody really knows but like the fans ship it and stuff, and they are playing among us with jack, felix, rae ect,, and someone invites somebody and it’s reader ex boyfriend and corpse notices that she’s acting really quiet and he texts her like “baby are you okay??” and she tells him that’s her toxic ex and during an emergency meeting, her ex suspects her and when she defends herself he says something along the lines of “don’t believe her she’s a fucking liar, she’s been one since the day i first met her” and everyone is like ??? but corpse flips out on him and just snaps telling him to leave his girlfriend alone which breaks his cover so everyone knows about you guys and just like really mad corpse and having to help him calm down and you get up from your seat to see him in his streaming room and just sit on his lap and he’s like “fuck that guy it’s okay baby we can just play minecraft or something” lmaooo 🥺🥺🥺 sorry i know that was so specific but the thought makes me so soft i would actually cry if you wrote this
This Is A Shout Out To My Ex
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here’s my first request guys! so sorry they’re taking so long. i’m trying to get these done before i do anything else. hope you guys enjoy! x,
corpse x female!reader
summary: while paying a game with her friends, y/n’s toxic ex joins the game. when he calls her a liar, corpse snaps and defends his girlfriend
word count: ~4.4k
warnings: mentions of emotional abuse, gaslighting, near-death experiences, swearing, some angst but it has a super fluffy end!
Living with your boyfriend is, obviously, amazing in every way. You see each other all the time, you get to cuddle almost all the time, and you get to see his handsome face every morning.
Probably, the only downside is the fact that living together makes it nearly impossible to hide the fact that you’re dating.
But, somehow, you’ve managed to keep it a secret from you rabid fans for the past four months. You literally have no idea how because you’re pretty sure you accidentally got a glimpse of Corpse walking by while you were doing a vlog.
Miraculously, no one noticed it. Then again, none of your fans knew what he looked like, so there’s a plus. There were one or two comments asking who the person in the back was, but you lied and said it was a friend. Technically, you weren’t wrong.
And so you’ve been trying to keep your relationship with Corpse on the DL to avoid any stress or anxiety his way. You could deal with it, you’ve been doing Youtube for years and could handle almost anything. Corpse, bless his heart, might not be able to.
One morning, you’re awoken by some slight tugging on your hair. You crack your eyes open but the bright light makes you whine and close them again. There’s a soft laugh behind you and you roll over onto your back, scooting over closer to him. You stretch your legs and grin, still keeping your eyes closed. 
“Did you sleep at all?” you ask in a quiet voice, your head resting on your lover’s chest.
“No,” he answers in his deep voice and you feel him play with your hair. “Anxiety, insomnia, the usual shit.”
You hum and open your eyes slowly, deciding to brave the light. You blink up at Corpse who is staring at the ceiling. “What were you thinking about?” Your own voice is a bit scratchy and rough. 
He looks down at you and you take notice of how bloodshot his eyes are and the bags under his eyes. “How pretty you are when you sleep.” He grins.
“You watched me when I slept?” you ask and playfully narrow your eyes at him. “You creep.”
He laughs and you turn around onto your side, your back facing him. “Baby, no, I didn’t mean it that way.”
You smile. “You’re so creepy, Corpse.”
He doesn’t say anything but you hear him sit up in bed. You begin to ask what he’s doing but then he lifts up the back of your shirt to press a few kisses to your back. “You’re still here, though. With me.”
“Hm. Yeah.” You turn around and he gazes at you. “Because I love you.”
His eyes light up in the way that they always do when you tell him those three, simple words. You love seeing them light up that way and you grin. “I love you, too.” He leans in for a quick kiss.
“What time is it?” you ask when you pull away.
Corpse reaches over to his side of the bed and turns his phone on. “Noon.”
“Noon?” you shout and sit up so quickly you get a head rush. “We were supposed to be playing Among Us with Sean, Pewds, Toast, Rae, and them.”
“Oh. Yeah.” You turn and see him with his hands covering his face.
You walk over to him and kneel next to him. “Babe? What’s up?”
He just groans and you frown. He doesn’t feel good. 
You push his hair from his forehead. “I can tell them that you’re not feeling up for it. They all know you, they’d understand.”
He shakes his head and runs his hands down his face before they rest on his chest. “No. No, it’s okay, I’ll be fine.” He gives you a smile.
You kiss his cheek. “Okay, then, babe. C’mon, we’re gonna be late.” You grab his hands and tug him up until he’s in a sitting position. He pulls you in for another kiss but you lean away.
“You have morning breath,” you tell him when he gives you his sad eyes. “Brush your teeth and then I’ll kiss you.”
That seems to get him out of bed and into the bathroom while you change clothes. You change out of your sweatpants and t-shirt and into jeans and a shirt. He walks out of the bathroom yawning and you walk past him to go to the bathroom.
I wish he’d sleep, you think to yourself while brushing your teeth. After brushing your teeth, you wash your face and do a little bit of makeup so you don’t look like you just rolled out of bed even though you did.
Corpse walks into the bathroom as you’re finishing your makeup and has a mug of coffee for you. You’re the only one in the house who drinks coffee since he can’t, so you always find it so sweet that he makes it for you.
“You made me coffee?” you ask and he nods. You take it from him and give him a peck. “Thank you, love.” 
You take a sip and grab your phone from your nightstand and shove it into your pocket. You walk out of the bedroom the two of you share and into the kitchen to check on your cat. 
Before you met him, Corpse had never really wanted a pet. He said that they die and he doesn’t want to deal with that, which you understand. But after the two of you had been dating for three months and you had been living with him for a month and a half, you begged him to let you get a cat. You knew he couldn’t say no to you. 
“Where’s Inky?” you call out to your boyfriend after not finding your cat in the living room or the kitchen. 
“In here,” he calls back and you follow his voice. Corpse is sitting in his chair getting ready to stream. You spot a black cat sitting on his table, licking at his hand. Corpse laughs and pets the animal on the head. “Stop licking me, girl. Your tongue feels weird.”
You smile and walk over to him, picking the cat up. “Come on, Inky, let’s leave dad to do his job, yeah?”
The young cat meows up at you and stares into your soul with her green eyes. You lock her gaze and have a staring contest. You lose, however, and blink away. 
“Why is your cat so weird?” you ask, placing the cat back down and watch her run away. 
“Probably gets it from her mom,” Corpse mumbles and you hear a smile. 
You scoff and smack his hand away gently when he reaches out to you. “Fine, you don’t get a kiss before the stream.”
“No, wait!” he shouts and grabs your hand, pulling you towards him. “I was kidding, baby.”
You smile at him and cup his cheek. “I know.” You lean down and give him a long, deep kiss. You feel him smile against your lips and you pull away. He gives you a smile.
“I love you,” he mutters, brushing some hair away from your face. 
“I love you more.” You grab his hand and press a kiss against his knuckles. You take a step back. “I’ll see you in the Discord chat, babe.”
“Okay. Also, don’t close the door all the way!” he calls to you and you look back at him, your hand on the doorknob. 
“Why?” you ask, leaning on the doorframe. 
He takes a second to respond. “Because I want Inky to come in here later.”
You laugh but smile. “Okay, fine.” You walk away from the door and across the hall into your own recording room. 
Your room is a lot different than your boyfriend’s. His room is dark and doesn’t have a lot in it. Yours, on the other hand, probably has too much stuff. Most of it is gifts from fans like stuffed animals and other knickknacks. Your desk, monitors, and lights take up a lot of the already limited space. You turn both your ring lights on after closing the door and turn on the LED lights you have attached to the ceiling. You switch them to the f/c setting and put the remote next to your coffee mug. You sit down in your black and white gaming chair and set everything up after putting on your headset. 
You join the Among Us game after beginning your stream and then the Discord call. You seem to join before Corpse because you can’t see him in the call. 
“You’ve finally decided to join us, y/n!” Felix exclaims and you smile. 
“Am I late?” you ask, taking another drink of your coffee. 
“No,” Sean replies. “I mean, we played a couple of rounds to pass the time, but nothing interesting happened.”
You nod and glance at who all is in the chat. It seems to be you, Felix, Toast, Charlie, Rae, Sean, later Corpse, and someone else who’s tag sounds familiar. 
“Oh! I invited someone new!” says Rae. “He’s a friend from college. y/n, this is Dallas.”
“Hey, y/n.”
Your eyes widen and your blood goes cold at the sound of his voice. You know him. You used to date him. In highschool before you moved away. You remember how toxic he was. He would always blow you off when you wanted to hang out and when you did hang out, he always played video games and never talked to you. 
“Hi, Dallas,” you stutter out. “Uh, hey, didn’t you and I go to highschool together?”
You can practically hear his smirk. “Yeah. We did.��
“I didn’t know you two went to school together,” Rae says happily. 
“Yep,” Dallas says. “We were friends, too.”
You want to throw up.
Suddenly, your loving and not toxic boyfriend joins the call and your spirits lift. 
“Corpse!” you exclaim, almost letting another word slip out. 
“You’re here,” says Rae. “Good noon!”
“Yeah, I’m not a morning person,” he says and you just now notice how deep his voice is. “I just woke up.”
“Oh my god,” Felix says. 
“Jesus,” says Charlie, dragging out the ‘u’.
“You just woke up?” asks Toast. 
He’s a liar, he didn’t sleep at all, you think but keep your mouth shut and laugh. 
“It’s like a forty-hertz voice,” Sean says. 
“It sounds like short wave radio,” Charlie adds. 
You laugh. “You sound like spoken brown note.”
Corpse laughs. “This is me when I wake up, that’s what...” He cuts himself off and laughs again.
“I’m scared,” says Dallas. 
“I didn’t know it could get any lower!” exclaims Sean. 
“I didn’t know you could hit puberty twice.” Felix laughs. 
After some more laughter, Corpse is introduced to Dallas. 
“Hey, man,” Corpse says. “Nice to meet you.”
“Yeah, you too,” Dallas replies. 
“Can we start the game now?” Sean asks when everyone is in the waiting room. You take a sip of your coffee while Rae starts the game. 
You mute yourself as your role is revealed and let out a sigh of relief. “Crewmate. Good, this makes this less stressful.” You go into the hallway, following Felix and Sean to go do wires. You clear the two of them and you three go up to admin. “Okay, so for those of you wondering about my reaction to Dallas joining the stream is that he’s my ex. Uh, we dating in highschool and broke up around the end of senior year. So this is pretty awkward for me.” You break away from Sean and Felix to go do a task in the greenhouse. 
You leave out the part about Dallas where he was borderline abusive. You remember him shouting at you for asking for the littlest of things to him gaslighting you and guilt-tripping you into going skinny dipping with him. 
Maybe that’s why you love Corpse so much. He’s the opposite of Dallas. He’s sweet and he’s caring. He’s never once raised his voice at you unless you were beating him in a game. Even then you both knew he wasn’t serious. And he had never once pressured you to do something you didn’t want to do. 
You’re brought out of your thoughts when someone reports Rae’s dead body. You unmute yourself and take another drink of your coffee. 
“I found her in decontamination,” Dallas says. “I opened the door and she was right there.”
“I was down by storage doing wires,” you tell them, putting your mug down. “And I was with Felix and Jack for the beginning and I’m pretty sure they’re cleared. So it has to be either you, Toast, or Corpse. Or Charlie.”
“You almost forgot about me,” he says and you laugh. 
“We never vote on seven, right?” Toast says. 
“Not if no one is sus, no,” Corpse answers. 
“I’m skipping,” says Sean. 
You nod and skip voting. “Same here.”
Everyone skips voting and you continue on. You do the rest of your wiring tasks and go out to the balcony where you notice Corpse standing out there. You smile and walk up to him and make your characters’ “eye” parts touch. “Look, Corpse. We’re touching eyeballs.”
You can just barely make out his laugh from the room across from yours and you grin before doing to do your task. You glance at your chat while you run to the reactor with Corpse. “How have you guys been doing? Hope you’re having a good day. Don’t forget to drink some water and eat something.” You smile at the camera and enter decontamination with Corpse and Toast. 
When you enter reactor, Corpse and Toast each go to do it and you head to the sorting in the lab when suddenly a body is reported. 
You decide to be quiet and drink from your coffee while everyone else discusses what happened. You zone out a little when Dallas talks and your mind flashes back to memories you’ve been trying to forget. 
“Wait, who are we voting?” you ask when you suddenly snap back to reality. 
“Felix,” Sean answers. “He vented right in front of me.”
You nod and vote for Felix and he gets ejected. 
pEWds was ejected 
1 imposter remains
You mute yourself once more and continue to do your tasks and stick with Corpse as much as you can. Your chat notices this and begins to blow up with the ship name they have for the two of you. You laugh at the chat as you scan yourself. “Why are you guys freaking out about Corpse and me? We’re literally just walking.”
Another body is reported and this time it’s Toast’s. You know who the imposter is. You unmute yourself and quickly say, “It’s fucking Dallas, it’s a self-report.”
“What?” Dallas exclaims and you immediately sense the hint of anger in his tone. He used to get so mad during video games and it seems like nothing has changed in the past few years. “How’s it me? It could be Charlie.”
“Charlie is dead, too,” Sean says. 
“Yep. And I know both Corpse and Sean are cleared because I was with Sean for a long time and I just watched Corpse get scanned.”
Dallas scoffs. “Well, shit, you got me there.”
After Dallas is ejected, the crewmates win and you all start another round. You suddenly don’t feel like talking too much anymore and do your stream in mostly silence. Just Dallas being there and in the same call as you is making you anxious and bringing up memories you don’t want to remember. 
Your chat asks you about this and you ignore it as you continue to do your tasks as a crewmate. Your phone buzzes in your pocket and you pull it out, looking at who it is. 
corpse 🖤
are you okay? you’re being really quiet
y/n
yeah, ig. just that dallas is my ex. toxic ex too
corpse 🖤
want me to kill him for you? im imposter
You smile and shake your head. “Oh, Corpse,” you whisper to yourself. 
y/n
no dont kill him lol
You put your phone back down on the table and look back at the game. 
You don’t pay too much attention to the game until the fourth round after you and Rae lost as the imposters. You’re a crewmate once again and you’re peacefully doing your tasks when suddenly something lays on your bare feet. 
“What the?” You look down at your feet and see a little dark fuzzball on your feet. “Inky, get off my feet, baby.” You move your feet and pick her up. You hold her in your arms like a baby the way she likes and rub her belly. “Okay, go see your dad.” Inky jumps out of your arms and you watch her leave your recording room. 
You turn back to your task and continue to do them without any interruptions. You notice, however, that Dallas has been following you for most of the round. You’re starting to get a little nervous and you run into the cafeteria to get away from him when he calls an emergency meeting.
You unmute yourself and Dallas says, “I think it’s y/n. I’m pretty sure she’s faking tasks.”
“Except I’m not,” you tell him. “You’re the one following me around, too, Dallas. What’s up with that, huh?”
“I’ve been following you because you’re acting sus.”
You glare at Dallas’s character on the screen, heat rushing to your face. “I’m literally doing my tasks, I know you saw me do the card swipe--”
“Don’t listen to her,” Dallas says and he sounds far too confident. “She’s a fucking liar. She has been since the first day I met her.”
By now your face is completely red from anger and you gasp. “Excuse me?”
“What are you talking about?” Sean asks. “I’ve known y/n for a long time, she’s never told a lie so long as I’ve known her.”
“That’s because she’s too good at it,” Dallas says in a snarky tone and you’ve never wanted to punch a screen more in your life. “Her and me used to date in highschool but I broke up with her because she lied to me about everything.”
“That’s not fucking true!” you shout and you can hear blood rushing to your ears. “I was the one who broke up with you after you gaslighted me about not hanging out with you enough when in reality you were always hanging out with your stupid football friends!”
“She’s lying--”
“The fuck are you saying about my girl?” Corpse demands. 
The chat goes silent for a moment. Corpse just called you his girl. You look at your live chat and it’s exploding with “i knew it”s and lots of keyboard smashing.
“Your girl?” Dallas asks after a moment.
“Yes. My girl. As in my girlfriend.” He sounds so possessive and it’s kind of hot to you. “Why are you calling her a liar?”
Dallas stumbles on his words. “B--because she is one.”
“Right. And how long have you known her?”
“I knew her in highschool--“
“Nevermind, I literally don’t care,” Corpse interrupts him. “I’ve been living with her for the past five months and she’s never lied to me about anything.”
Dallas is quiet for once. Everyone is. No one is really even breathing but your heartbeat is rattling your brain and blood is rushing through your ears.
“I don’t wanna play anymore,” you whisper. You swallow thickly and glance at your chat. Luckily, they’re all defending you and yelling at Dallas. You turn back to the screen. “Dallas, I’m not the imposter. And stop making stupid ass accusations.”
“I--“
“Kick him,” says Felix and you can tell he sounds mad.
“No wait--“ Dallas begins to say.
“No!” Rae interrupts. “I knew there was something off about you.”
“You don’t get to come in here and talk shit about our friend,” Jack says.
“I was kidding,” Dallas tries to explain.
But then something inside you snaps. You forgot how much you hate Dallas. How he always turned the blame on you when he did something wrong. How you almost lost all of your friends because he convinced them that you were a bad person.
At first, you thought he had changed. You thought that he had actually grown up. Turns out that people don’t change.
“Like you were kidding when you almost got me kicked out of the house because you made me go out with you to go drinking?” you ask. “Or how you played a stupid trick on me when I was driving us to school and I almost fucking crashed the car and nearly killed us?”
“Jesus.” You can hear him roll his eyes. “You’re still on about that? It was April Fool’s, you should have expected it—“
“I shouldn’t have expected shit!” you yell and it comes out raw. The memory flashes in your mind and you cringe. “That wasn’t funny, Dallas! You weren’t funny! I fucking hated my life in high school. I was already stressed out because I thought I wasn’t smart enough and you being my boyfriend and ignoring me and manipulating me didn’t help.
“So fuck you. Fuck you for everything you did to me when we were teenagers. Fuck you for making me think that you changed and were actually nice and then ripping that away from me. But you know what? Thanks. Thanks for being my ex because you made me what I am today and you’re the reason I moved to California and met the love of my life.”
You suck a deep breath in and wipe at the tears that had fallen. You put your hand on your camera. “Speaking of which, I need a hug from him. Bye, guys.”
You stop streaming and disconnect from everything. You turn your computer off, unplug your headset, and turn your lights off. You sit in your chair trying not to cry in the dark.
Corpse, your mind says and you open your eyes. You really want a hug. His hugs are the best. You take your headset off and walk out of your recording room. Before you walk into Corpse’s recording room, you head to the living room and grab a fluffy gray blanket and wrap it around yourself.
You don’t even bother to knock on the door and just walk in. His room is still dark and it appears like he’s angry. You can tell by the way his voice is deeper and how he looks like he’s shaking.
But when you tap on his shoulder, he looks up at you with wide eyes. “Babe.”
You sniffle and he pushes away from his desk. You shake your head and pull his arms up above his head and settle yourself on his lap, your legs on either side of him, and wrap your arms around his neck.
“Baby,” he whispers and you lean your cheek on his shoulder. “Just fuck off, Dallas.”
Your eyes squeeze shut and you shift up a little, pushing your nose into his neck. He smells nice. “Stop talking to them.”
“What?” he looks down at you and asks what you’re doing when you take his headset off. You unplug them, thereby disconnecting him from the stream. “y/n, what are you doing?”
“I want to cuddle with you,” you mutter and bury your face into his neck.
You feel him wrap his arms around your back and he pulls you up, leaning his head on your shoulder. “Okay, baby. We can cuddle.”
The two of you sit like that for what feels like a long time. You hear Corpse’s phone buzz, but the two of you ignore it. He kisses the side of your head and you smile.
You sigh deeply as he tightens his hold against you. “Fuck that guy, baby. It’s okay.” He moves his shoulder and you look up at him. “Wanna go play Minecraft?”
A grin spreads across your face and you nod. Corpse smiles back and picks you up, bridal style, blanket and all. You squeal and laugh as he carries you to the living room. “Put me down, Corpse!”
“Alright.” He drops you into the couch and turns around to turn the Xbox on.
You huff and push your hair out of your face, keeping the blanket wrapped tight around your body. “I didn’t mean literally drop me, dummy.”
He shrugs and sits next to you, handing you a controller. “Should’ve been more specific, baby.”
You scoff but can’t hide the small smile creeping onto your lips. “Jerk.” You put the controller next to you on the couch and move the blanket so it’s over both of your laps and you lean into his side.
After playing Minecraft for the majority of the afternoon and evening, you finally drag Corpse to bed with you after ordering pizza for dinner.
His arms are wrapped tight around your waist as your back is pressed against his chest. Inky hops up onto the bed and nuzzles your hand until you begin to pet her. She lays down on her belly and you gently pat her.
“Am I really the love of your life?” Corpse asks after a long time of sitting in the quiet darkness
You nod against the pillow. “Yeah. You are.”
You can’t see him, but you know he’s smiling when he kisses the back of your neck.
Your phone on your nightstand lights up and you head Corpse’s phone buzz again as well. You think for just a moment about all of the texts, all of the messages, all of the DMs you’re getting about what happened. For a second, you panic. What if people don’t think that you’re worth to be dating Corpse? What if people are calling you a pussy for how you reacted to Dallas? What if everyone hates you?
But those thoughts immediately go away when Corpse mumbles something in that husky voice of his that makes the butterflies in your tummy come back. “You’re the love of my life, too.”
“Yeah?” you hum, your eyes slipping shut.
“Yeah,” he says and you can tell that he’s getting tired as well. “And I’m gonna marry you someday.”
An involuntary smile spreads across your face and your entire body overheats. You bite your lip in the darkness and whisper,
“And I’m gonna say yes.”
But he’s asleep. His breathing has evened out. He shouldn’t have heard you.
You know he heard you somehow, though, because his arms tighten around your waist. You wiggle backward so that you’re flush against his chest and his head drops down onto the top of your head.
You place your hands over his and close your eyes. Finally, he’s sleeping.
--------------------
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jackie-shitposts · 3 years
Text
I Thought Thieves Love Jules!
Carmen strolled out of the elevator, feeling pretty beat after her workout with Shadowsan. Not that she would ever admit that- she had wanted to keep going, but it had only been two days since she got electrocuted in Egypt, so Shadowsan made her cut her workout short while he continued. Carmen sauntered over to the counter, taking a long drink from her water bottle, just as Player’s image appeared on her laptop screen. “Check it out, Red. Julia just posted a new entry on her blog, about a recent find in Columbia.” Player said, ”But it totally digresses into fun facts about fair trade coffee, including a “Red Blend.” Carmen leaned onto the counter. “Could be another riddle to solve?” “Good thing I learned a thing or two about code-breaking from Julia.” Player smirked, clearly excited to show off his new skills. “Every paragraph ends with a number. If you line ‘em up like they're a date and time, it’s tomorrow at 8am.” “Seems Chief wants an opportunity to thank me over coffee.” Carmen quirked an eyebrow. Seems as though she’d be seeing her favorite agent-turned-historian-turned-agent-again in the field, per Chief’s request. “How can you be sure it’s not a trap?” Player asked apprehensively. “If it were, Jules would’ve worded it differently.”
“OoOoO, are we talking about Jules?” Zack asked, peeking his head out from the doorway.
“That ACME gal Carm has a crush on?” Ivy chimed in, peeking her own head out from under her brother.
Carmen rolled her eyes at the sibling’s cartoonish antics. “Jules and I are just friends, you two.”
Ivy scoffed, entering the room and flopping onto the couch.  “Yeah right- then why did you specifically go to her when you needed help decoding the relics?”
Carmen casually took a sip of her water before answering.  “Jules was already familiar with VILE- getting a stranger involved would’ve only made things more complicated and dangerous than it already was.” Zack hopped onto the couch opposite of Ivy, resting his feet up on her knees. He pointedly ignored Ivy’s protests of, “Zack, gross!” and smirked at Carmen. “Oh? Then why did you ask Devineaux where she was in Louisiana?” “Hey, you never told me about that one!” Ivy gasped, feigning betrayal. “I was just surprised ACME let that driving disaster use a car,” Carmen quipped. Player laughed on his side of the screen. “Don’t act like you’re any better, Red. Don’t you remember your first caper?”
Carmen gasped, pretending to be insulted. “Says the 17 year old without a learners permit.”
“Not like I have anywhere to go.” Player laughed, before refocusing on Carmen’s interrogation. “Speaking of firsts, how about when you first met Julia? I listened in, and it totally sounded like you were flirting with her. You called her “Jules” on your first meeting!” Carmen narrowed her eyes at Player in defiance.  “I was just sitting across from Jules so I could blend in while keeping an eye on Paper Star. And what’s wrong with nicknames? I called Crackle “Gray” and Ivy “Ives”. I don’t see what the difference is.” “The difference is that you and Cracker used to be best friends, and now we are best friends. However, you and Jules were not friends at the time.” Ivy said, emphasizing the nickname. “His name is Crackle now.” “He went and rejoined VILE, I think I get to call Gary whatever I want.” Player chimed back into the conversation. “Why did you leave the Magna Cartas with Julia, anyway? You had one conversation with her, what made you think leaving them with her meant they were in “good hands?” “While sitting next to her, I noticed Devineaux’s briefcase, and she said they were travel partners on business. I figured that meant they were law enforcement also trying to recover the documents. Leaving them with Jules simply saved me the hassle of returning the documents myself.” Carmen explained casually. “What about the fashion show in Milan, Carm? Why’d you have Julia help us then?” Zack asked, a shit-eating grin plastered onto his face. Carmen sighed in annoyance. Why won’t they just get off her back about this already? “Jules was the only ACME agent around, and I knew that ACME would be able to get the gowns to safety. And before you ask,” Carmen pointed at Ivy, whose mouth was already open with some smug retort, “I put her in charge instead of you because she would know where the gowns could be put for ACME to return.” At that, Ivy simply leaned back onto the couch and mirrored her brother’s smug grin.  “Yeah, that was a fun night.” She smirked, and Zack tried to hold back his laugh that came out as more of a snort. Carmen raised her brow at the untold story, but she decided not to press. For the sake of her sanity.
“Well, what about Stockholm?” Zack blurted. Ivy and Player’s eyes snapped to Carmen, looking for any hint of discomfort, and Zack immediately tried to rectify the situation. “I-I mean, yknow, you just were gonna go try to get her help before-”
Carmen cut off his anxious rambling, smiling warmly. “Don’t worry about it Zack, I know what you mean. I wanted to talk to Jules to see if she could get ACME to back off. While that obviously didn’t happen, I know Jules didn’t try to betray me.” Carmen glanced out the window for a moment, whispering quietly to herself. “I don’t think I could be angry at her if I tried.” Carmen turned back to her friends and smiled. “Plus, she helped me out in Monaco and Ile De L'oleron afterwards, so-” Player practically leapt up from his chair, causing a loud crash as he knocked the fidget spinners off his desk and dropped the rubix cute he was playing with. “Yeah, let's talk about Monaco! You can’t tell me you guys weren’t flirting at the party. She was so confident you were going to deliver the goods to her door, and you trusted her not to stop you when you stole the eggs. Come on, Red, you know she was flirting with you!” Carmen felt Zack and Ivy’s eyes on her expectantly, and she chuckled at Player’s exasperation. “Player, I’m pretty good at reading people, and I’m fairly certain she wasn’t flirting with me. Even if she was, I was not flirting ba-” “Then what about the roses?”
Carmen’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly. How did Zack, of all people, know about the roses?
“Oh my god, the roses! Carm, why the fuck didn’t you tell us about the roses?” Ivy exclaimed, springing up from her relaxed position on the couch.
Carmen bit her lip before answering. “They were just flowers, as a thank you gift for the help. How do you know about them, anyway? I didn’t buy them until after you guys left.”
At that, Player piped up once again. “So Red, you know how at the end of each month, I look through our funds and see how much we spend on capers, to set our budget for the next month? Well, it was pretty interesting for me to see that you used our encrypted card to buy a bouquet of red roses from the flower shop across the street from Julia’s apartment, on the same day we left her the goods.”
Fuck. Carmen needed to shut this down, now. “They were just a thank you gift guys, nothing more. Just something Jules could keep for herself. And red is my color, so the roses seemed like a good gift. Now if you’ll excuse me,” Carmen glared at the redheads sternly, daring them to stop her, before looking down at Player with the same forbidding look. ”I’m going to take a shower. Player, let me know when you’ve got a red eye to Seattle ready.” Carmen closed the laptop, tucked it under her arm and walked out of the room without looking back. ~~~
The video call flickered to black, and Player leaned back into his chair, sighing. Red can be so thick-headed sometimes. As he booked her flight, he thought back to their teasing and banter from moments before.
Red seemed pretty genuine- maybe we were wrong after all.
Player took a deep breath- he didn’t want to call Carmen back so soon, especially when she seemed pretty pissed at the end of their last call- but he had booked her flight for a short two hours from now. So, Player reconnected to Carmen’s laptop, still looking at the red eye information on his other monitor, before hearing a loud, exasperated groan coming from his speakers.
“Holy fuck that was such a mess!”
Player’s head snapped towards his other monitor. The laptop had been set on the dresser across from Carmen’s bed, where she was laying sprawled out in agony. Player quickly hit his mute button and sat back to watch.
Carmen’s arms raised up to cover her face- though Player couldn’t see it, he was sure her face was covered in her signature color. “God, and the roses- why did I use the card for the roses? That’s a basic credit card slip, how am I so stupid!”
Carmen sat up, hands still over her flushed face. “I’m so fucking lucky they didn’t hear us on the ferry or at her office, there’s no way they would’ve ever let that go- I thought I wasn’t being obvious about this stupid crush-
That was all the confirmation Player needed. He clicked unmute and nearly shouted, “So you do have a crush on Julia! I knew it!”
Carmen’s head snapped up to the source of the sound, her face as red as her coat hanging on the wall’s hook. “Player! What the fuck are you-” Carmen froze as she watched Player pick up his cell phone. “Player, if you do what I think you’re about to-”
“Then what? You’re two thousand miles away Red, I'm practically untouchable.” He laughed and grinned smugly at the webcam as he dialed a number.
“Player, you are so dead next time I visit Ontario!” Carmen yelled before she threw her door open, barrelling down the hall to the stairway.
~~~
Zack and Ivy watched in silence as Carmen walked out of the room. When they heard the door to the stairway close, they looked at each other, before they couldn’t take it anymore and burst into laughter.
“Holy shit she looked so mad!” Ivy wheezed through her laughing fit.
“I know! Do you think that means she was telling the truth?” Zack questioned as he tried (and failed) to calm his giggles.
“No way.”
“But she seemed pretty-”
“What are you two laughing about?” Shadowsan’s stern voice stopped the twin’s giggling dead in its tracks. Just as Ivy opened her mouth to make an excuse, since she doubted Carmen wanted Shadowsan involved in her love life, (he is like her father, isnt he?) Zack spoke up.
“We tried to get Carm to confess that she likes Julia, but she kept on telling us she just likes Julia as a friend. Maybe she wasn’t lying, most of her reasons were pretty solid.” Ivy would’ve smacked him then and there if Shadowsan hadn’t interrupted her train of thought with a small chuckle. Since when did Shadowsan chuckle? “On VILE Island, Carmen was trained to be a master of deception. Do you not realize that she was also trained to survive any interrogation?” Shadowsan said, with…humor in his voice? Zack and Ivy were silent for a moment. “Wait, does that mean she actually does like Ju-” The moment was interrupted with a call on Ivy’s phone. When she looked at the caller ID, her eyes widened as she answered it and put the device on speaker. “Carmen does have a crush on Julia!” Player shouted from the phone, just as the Crimson Gay Ghost herself burst into the room and crashed into Ivy. “Dammit!” Carmen yelled, taking the phone from Ivy who was now on the floor with Carmen and laughing. “Player, I’m going to fly to Ontario and kick your ass!” Player’s laughing from the phone was almost drowned out by Zack and Ivy’s. “Oh no you’re not, you’ve got a flight to catch in two hours!” “OoOh where to? To go see your “favorite ACME agent”?” Ivy teased through her laughter. “Yeah Carm, I thought thieves love Jules!” Zack said as he laughed. Carmen jumped off of Ivy, her voice a noticeably higher pitch and her face extremely red as she shouted, “No! I mean- well, that is- I just-” As Zack, Ivy and Player continued to tease an extremely red-faced and stammering Carmen, Shadowsan smiled and quietly walked out of the room. It seems the war may be coming to a close with ACME on their side, but that doesn’t mean Carmen has to stop chasing someone.
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extasiswings · 3 years
Text
you make my heart beat
I played myself...anyway, if you’re interested in the post that inspired this, it’s here, asking how I would write a forgotten first meeting + hospital AU.  Also on ao3 here.  Have about 2k of Buck and nurse!Eddie set between seasons 2 and 3. 
Eddie is at the reception desk reading a chart when a cup of coffee slides over the counter and settles by his forearm. He glances up—
“Usually it’s the doctors bringing me bribes, not the patients,” he says, a small smile curving his lips. “Last I checked, you didn’t have charts for me to transcribe for you—what’s this for then?”
Buck shrugs and leans forward, elbows on the counter.
“Who says it’s a bribe? I can’t just do something nice for my favorite nurse?”
Eddie closes the chart and picks up the cup—his eyes slip closed as espresso and cinnamon bursts across his tongue, and he barely holds back a groan—fuck, but it’s been a long shift.
“Thank you,” he replies. “Did I know you were coming in today?”
Buck shakes his head. “Last minute check-up. Got new scans on Monday—if everything looks good, Dr. Graves should clear me to take my recertification test.”
There’s a hopeful note in his tone even as Eddie catches the flicker of nervousness that passes through his eyes, and Eddie thinks about running into him a few months earlier, about I don’t know who I am without the uniform, and reaches out. His hand curves around Buck’s elbow where it rests on the counter—it makes his breathing go a little unsteady, touching Buck without the justification and distance provided by clinical professionalism, but the touch elicits a soft smile that does funny things to his heart, so Eddie can’t quite regret it either.
“That’s really great, Buck,” he says quietly. “I’m happy for you.”
One of the new residents comes around the corner and Eddie clears his throat as he pulls back his hand.
“I guess I know what the bribe was for then,” he teases, trying to push them back to their prior, lighthearted zone. “You just wanted me to do your work-up instead of Shirley.”
Buck laughs. “Can you blame me?” He asks. “She’s mean and her hands are always cold.”
“You complain that I’m mean all the time,” Eddie shoots back as he logs into the computer to check Buck in.
“Yeah, well, maybe I—” Buck cuts himself off and Eddie glances up in time to catch the flush darkening his cheeks. There are a lot of ways that sentence could end and all of them make his own face heat.
Maybe it’s silly—he’s an adult, he’s single, he gets flirted with all the time, even, or maybe especially by Buck, he shouldn’t get flustered. But it’s because it is Buck and not just any random patient or family member that he does. Because Eddie doesn’t know what he’s doing but he wants—
He busies himself grabbing a clipboard and a check-in form and clears his throat again before looking up.
“Come on, I’ll take you back.”
“Thanks, Eddie,” Buck replies, and his smile is back, the soft one. It’s only because Eddie’s distracted by it that he notices the way it twists into a grimace when Buck takes a step.
Eddie’s brow furrows. “You okay?”
Buck waves him off. “Fine, just—I’ve been training a lot so I can take my test as soon as I’m cleared. Must have pulled a muscle or something. Twinged a little is all.”
Eddie makes a note on the clipboard and Buck groans.
“No, come on—I pulled a muscle, I’m fine, you don’t have to write that down.”
“Maybe you pulled a muscle, maybe it’s nothing—regardless, Dr. Graves should know that you’re having leg pain just in case,” Eddie says. He pauses and narrows his eyes. “You weren’t going to tell him.”
“Because it’s nothing,” Buck insists. “Come on, Nurse Diaz, isn’t there some saying about hearing hoofbeats and thinking horses, not zebras?”
Eddie steers Buck down the hall to an exam room.
“Yeah, sure. I’ve heard it,” he replies.
“So?”
“So…” They step through the door and Eddie nods at the exam table before reaching for a blood pressure cuff. “There are a lot of very common things that could be causing pain in a limb that you’ve had multiple surgeries on, only one of which is that you pulled a muscle, and some of which could be serious. No zebras required. I’m not taking the note off the chart and you’re not going to lie when you get asked about it, okay?”
He fastens the cuff around Buck’s arm and presses a button to start the reading—he can’t help the way his lips twitch at Buck’s exasperated look.
“Little pressure,” he adds, and Buck rolls his eyes.
“I should have taken my chances with Shirley,” Buck grumbles.
“Yeah, well, if there’s a next time you can bring her coffee instead—I hear she likes hazelnut lattes.”
The cuff loosens, the monitor beeps. Eddie scribbles down the number. It’s a little high—Eddie glances over, takes in the tension in Buck’s shoulders, and bites his cheek.
“It’ll be okay,” he says, even though he usually tries to avoid promising patients anything. “Best case, they run a few more scans and waste a couple hours of your afternoon to find out that you’re right and perfectly fine. Worst case, something’s wrong and they catch it now and fix it and you’re still on track to get back to work, just maybe a couple weeks later than you planned.”
“It’s already been five months,” Buck sighs, his fingers raking through his hair.
“I know it’s frustrating—”
“How’s Christopher?” Buck interrupts, and Eddie levels him with a sharp look for the obvious deflection, but allows the subject change as he logs into the exam room computer.
“He’s good,” he replies. “Great, actually. Keeps asking about you—he, uh, he had a really great time the other day, even if it was just hanging around here. I can’t thank you enough for watching him.”
It’s not something Eddie normally would have done at all, but his abuela had a fall, Pepa had to go back to work, he couldn’t take off because they were already short-staffed with three other nurses out with the flu—
And Buck had just…been there. Finished with his physical therapy and offering to stick around so Eddie could finish his shift, all smiles and no judgment, and after five months…well, they’re something like friends, right? They're...something, anyway.
“He’s an amazing kid, and it was the best day I’ve had in…awhile, actually,” Buck admits. “You really don’t have to keep thanking me. I would do it again any time.”
I do, though, Eddie thinks, but he bites it back. He bites back, I’d like that, too.
He finishes filling in the intake information and steps back.
“You should be all set. The doctor will be in any minute.” He pauses before he reaches the door. Swallows.
“Find me after?” He asks. “Let me know how it goes? I’m on until four.”
“I’ll find you,” Buck promises. “Have to say I told you so when it turns out I just pulled a muscle.”
“I’ll be glad to hear it,” Eddie replies. He gets one more smile to sustain him before he walks out, leaving Buck behind.
He’ll see Buck later.
Except…he doesn’t. The rest of his shift passes without another sign of the other man and the gnawing worry in his gut worsens. The exam room is empty when he checks, he doesn’t have any new pages or texts—it would be easy to pull Buck’s chart and find out if something happened, but that feels like it would cross a line when it’s not strictly necessary—
He shoots off a text of his own, but there’s still no reply by the time he’s showered and changed out of his scrubs.
It’s happenstance that he runs into Dr. Graves’ favorite resident outside the locker room.
“Hey, Cassie—Graves had a patient today, Evan Buckley? I did the intake, and I was wondering—”
“Oh, he was admitted,” she says. “Room 312, I think.”
Eddie’s stomach drops. Sometimes he hates being right.
“Thanks,” he says faintly. She gives him a distracted hum, preoccupied by responding to a text, and Eddie heads to the elevators.
“Hey,” he greets a few minutes later, leaning against the doorway in Buck’s room. His hands are shoved in his pockets and he’s not entirely sure whether to cross the threshold.
Buck looks…tired. Frustrated. Upset. Raw. He tries to cover it when he sees Eddie, but it doesn’t fully work.
Eddie’s heart aches.
“Blood clots,” Buck sighs with a rueful shrug. “On the screws in my leg. They said it was lucky they caught it before one broke off and traveled anywhere, or it could have killed me. Guess you saved my life, Nurse Diaz.”
“Well…” Eddie weighs his hesitation against his desire to be closer and ultimately pushes off the doorframe to step inside. “You are my favorite patient. Who else is going to bring me coffee if you died?”
“Oh, I’m sure a lot of people would be more than happy to do that,” Buck replies. “I’m picturing a line around the block here.”
Eddie settles into the chair next to the bed.
“I think you’re vastly overestimating there, but—” Eddie wets his lips as he meets Buck’s gaze. Fuck, he’s not good at this, but he would do just about anything to bring Buck’s smile back. “—but, for whatever it’s worth, I wouldn’t want anyone else to.”
“Because I’m your favorite patient?” The look in Buck’s eyes is hopeful but wary, the kind of look that says despite his easy flirtations, he’s been burned before and expects to be again. And maybe it’s that honest vulnerability that finally unsticks Eddie’s tongue because when he opens his mouth to respond, what comes out is—
“You’re not just a patient, Buck. Not to me. You have to know that.”
“Do I?”
The skepticism feels like a challenge and Eddie rises to it by leaning in—he slides his fingers into Buck’s hair and closes the gap, kissing him once, twice, as Buck makes a startled sound against his lips and curls his own fingers into Eddie’s shirt to kiss him back.
“I don’t do that with just anyone,” Eddie breathes when he pulls back. “And I definitely don’t let them meet my son. Clear enough?”
Buck clears his throat, and nods, flushed and a little dazed in a way that makes Eddie bite back a grin.
“Speaking of, I have to go pick him up, but…” Eddie steals another kiss. “I’ll come see you tomorrow? And maybe we can…talk about this a little more?”
“I’d like that,” Buck admits. “And—Eddie—I—” His throat works as he swallows.
“Thank you,” he says finally. “For not letting me brush it off.”
Eddie’s thumb rubs against the edge of Buck’s jaw before he finally drops his hand.
“I care about you. Part of that means wanting to see you care about yourself,” he replies. “You don’t have to thank me for that.”
Buck looks like he might argue with that, but ultimately just tugs Eddie in for one final kiss before releasing him.
“Tell Christopher I said hi.”
“I will.”
141 notes · View notes
ssscentral · 3 years
Text
Devil like you
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Summary: Your boyfriend has a revelation about who - or what - he really is as he invites over a friend to have some earth-shattering, toe-curling, out of this world fun with you. 
Pairing : Demon!Namjoon x Reader x Demon! Jimin
Genre : Smut. Pure filth. It be dirty.
Warnings : Threesome, Demon summoning, Overstimulation, Swearing, Restraints, Surprise your boyfriend is a demon, Dom!Namjoon, Dom!Jimin, Sub!Reader, Light Edging, Dirty Talking, Oral Sex (f and m), Fingering
WC : 5.5k
Member : Duda || @biaswreckme​​
A/N : Hope you enjoy reading this, i’m quite proud of it :v It’s my first AU for BTS, so be gentle T.T This fic is the second part of the group prompt “Hell of a Ride”, each part with our own interpretation, so stay tuned because there is more to come! Any similarities with Supernatural are not coincidental, thank you Spn wikis for the words in Latin and the inspiration for some of the abilities of these demons. And thanks so much @fluffy-fluffu​ for being the beta ♥
taglist: @sugasbabiie​
—————
You thought you should have known. You thought you should have seen the signs – and there were quite a few, thinking back on your relationship. It should not have surprised you like this. It should not have affected you like this. It should not make you wish for more, waiting for the next time it would happen. It should not… you should not… you should not want this as much as you did, right?
You should have seen it coming. It should not have caught you off guard like that, after all, who teaches this language with this much ease and what seems like almost natural and native knowledge? That should have been the first sign to strike your attention. He was not the first Latin professor in the language department at this university, but he was the best. But this department has a lot of languages, and Latin is part of the curriculum for some of the other languages. It was not weird to have a Latin professor. It was weird to have someone as hot as Namjoon teaching Latin. Hot, gods, you sound like a teenager again talking about boys and crushes. But yes, Kim Namjoon, one of the hottest teachers in the university – and it is a big one – teaches a dead language.
So when he asked you, the English teacher – not the only one in the department and you did not consider yourself to be one of the best-looking teachers there – out on a date, you said yes. It had been a while for you, issues with an ex left you being cautious about entering new relationships. It made you pay more attention to certain red flags, but there were none with Namjoon, at least not like those from before.
Kim Namjoon was considerate. Kim Namjoon was creative with his dates. Kim Namjoon was a romantic man, one that had you indeed feeling like a teenager dating for the first time, sneaking around the empty halls and classrooms, the butterflies in your stomach wild and making you giggle at the mere thought of him. Kim Namjoon paid attention to you and your problems. Kim Namjoon listened. And Kim Namjoon was great when it came to sex. Great actually did not really translate how incredible and mind-blowing sex with him was. He knew how to do things to your body like no one ever could before. He suggested some things – some kinky, oh, very kinky things indeed – to spice up the sex that you had only fantasized about but never had the courage to ask for, and he did not judge anything. It was almost as if his mission in bed was to give you utmost pleasure, even if it hurt sometimes – but it always hurt so good. Kim Namjoon was the perfect boyfriend. Maybe too perfect, so you think to yourself that you had ought to know better. No one could be this perfect. There had to be an explanation. And there was. You just never would have imagined that it would be this explanation.
The day had started just like any other, there was nothing special about it, at least to your knowledge. So why, oh, why did it have to be on this day? (Maybe you could ask them later.) You woke up to your alarm, as usual. You love your job, but you always found it difficult to get up this early in the mornings, so you always made sure to set more than one alarm. You got up, had breakfast – “breakfast” is a very general word, but you do eat a piece of toast while the coffee machine warms up. You had a shower, just a quick one to truly wake you up and get you going before getting dressed in your usual teaching outfit. Namjoon would be coming over later, so you would have time to shower again and get dressed up for date night after getting back from the university. You grab a travel mug on the way out, pouring the hot coffee in it, the smell invading your apartment just as you like it.
The classes go on without any issue; a slight problem with the projector in the beginning but nothing out of the ordinary and that would strike one’s attention, especially if one was used to dealing with the projectors in that older building the languages and literature department was stuck with. You crossed paths with Namjoon once the entire day, walking down the hallways of the old building; you were getting out of an English literature class, Joon going to teach his Latin II group. As your bodies got closer, both of you nodded in acknowledgment as if you were any other professor, but your hands discreetly touched in passing, just a small sign you had agreed on to let the other know everything is okay, have a good class, I love you, I will be waiting for you later. You knew he was going out on a field trip with an advanced class and he would have to leave during lunch, so you ate a sandwich in your office, watching some comedy series to relax and get energized for the rest of the day – of course, the hot and new cup of coffee helps -, every once in a while, pausing to chat with the other professor who chose to do something similar. The afternoon is not really that different from other Friday afternoons; no one usually comes during office hours, so no one came on this day. You spent your time alternating between counting the minutes on the ticking clock to be able to go home and get ready for the date and responding to some emails, starting the term report, and downloading some articles to read. You were alone in the office, so you have some music going to help distract you and try to make the time go by faster.
When you finally got home the first thing you did was hop on the shower again, but now taking some time for yourself, phone blasting your favorite songs as you washed the day away from your body, cleaning, shaving what you wanted, moisturizing with some shower oils Namjoon gave you and that you know he loved the scent of. You spent some time choosing your outfit for the evening, knowing it had to be good. You opted for a white lace and silk playsuit, the new lingerie that Namjoon had recently given you, and you knew it had to be expensive from the brand – expensive and fancy lingerie was a guilty pleasure you had that somehow Namjoon was able to indulge, and you had no complaints about it. It gave you an almost innocent look under the black dress, and you were curious to see Namjoon’s reaction. You did not do much for hair and makeup, choosing instead to keep it quite simple and natural – it was only going to be ruined later on anyways.
Soon you heard the bell ring and you looked at the small monitor near the door, letting him in. His hair was slicked back, giving him an edge that was not present in day-to-day life at university. He had his earrings on and paired up with his silver-rimmed glasses and that black blazer made him look unbelievably hot and so different from the pristine almost clumsy-like image of Professor Kim. He kissed you, murmuring a hi in the kiss, letting his hands roam over your dress. He paused and stepped back enough to look at you.
“Are you wearing the new gift?”
It only took a nod from you to have him pressing you against the wall, hitching your leg up and around his waist. His hands took advantage of the position and touched your skin, going up your thighs and bunching up your dress in the way, giving him access to feel the lace and silk on your body.
“Fuck,” he paused, almost breathless, “fuck the reservation, right? I need you now.”
You nodded in affirmation, almost as out of breath as him, “Fuck the reservation, fuck me instead.”
He didn’t need anything else to press you even harder against the wall, hoisting both of your legs; you wrapped them around his body, and he pushed his hips into yours, you could feel how hard he already was. You moaned into the kiss, his hardness was right against where you needed it the most, and when he started slightly moving his hips into yours, it made his length deliciously drag against your clit. The feeling was also enhanced by the lingerie; every time Namjoon canted his hips up, it made the lingerie move up together and tug on your skin, and it did not take long until it was snugged between your nether lips and you were certain you were staining the front of Namjoon’s pants with your wetness as he started nibbling on your earlobe, sucking and kissing your neck, the skin caught between his teeth to make sure it would leave bruises. And then he let you go, dropping your legs from around his body.
“Do you trust me?” He looked into your eyes, seeming unsure, which was unlike him. You could swear that his eyes got darker for a brief moment – and not in the way writers usually describe, with eyes darkening with pleasure or something akin to that. No, it seemed that they physically turned darker, almost black, but you thought you must be imagining things. It could not be humanly possible.
“I trust you, Joon.” You said without any hesitation, fingers entangling with his and taking him in the direction of your bedroom.
He started by taking off his glasses and carefully putting them on the wooden nightstand, taking a minute to take off his blazer and carefully drape it over the piece of furniture. He then turned to you and you felt nervous, his walk almost predatory towards you. He gripped your shoulders, taking the straps of your dress into his hands, and it felt like he was considering just ripping the piece out of your body and your breath faltered. So this was the mood today. But he must have thought better and let his hands caress the front of your body, squeezing your breasts, his fingers then gliding over your clothed nipples, feeling them harder under his touch. His hands moved down, grabbing the edge of your dress in his fists and then lifted it up and off your body, and then you were there, standing in front of him, the white lace and silk that covered your skin seemed almost virginal when contrasted with the current mood. You bit your lip, looking at Namjoon, gaging his reaction, and you saw his eyes widen, a smirk crossing his lips, his tongue unconsciously poking out to lick his top lip. There was a different look in his eyes, one that you did not recognize at all, and you were getting slightly more nervous now. What did he have in store for you this time? You tried to think back to conversations you had, discussing ideas in between cuddles and kisses on the bed, after one of the times you had some passionate lovemaking, his eyes glued to yours the entire time, his body encompassing yours, protecting you. Not every time was kinky, but there was no doubt tonight was going to be. You took a deep breath and stepped forward, your fingers going to the buttons of his shirt, undoing them one by one, slowly, your fingers shaking in anticipation.
“Remember when we were talking about maybe having another person in the bedroom with us?”
His question took you by surprise, your fingers stopping mid-action, and you looked at him. “Yes?”
“You are going to learn some things about me tonight, Y/n, but you don’t need to be scared.” He grabbed your hands, intertwining your fingers and kissing them while looking into your eyes. “I promise everything will be okay, and I’ll answer all your questions later. Now I just want you to enjoy yourself.”
And ok, now you were worried, and he could see that in your face, so he brought you closer to his body, hugging you, and your arms tightened around his body.
“You don’t have to be scared, love. It can be scary, but have I ever hurt you?”
“Well…” you started, giggling at the double possibilities to answer his question.
“I’m talking about real harm, Y/n. And might I remind you, who asked to be spanked again?” He chuckled, shaking his head, the mood getting a little lighter. “I can’t promise it’s not going to frighten you at first but keep an open mind. You have your safeword, you can stop this at any time, no matter what.”
“Ok. I can’t promise I won’t fear whatever it is… because you are scaring me a little bit, Joon. But I trust you. I know you won’t hurt me like that.” You raised your head from where it was resting on his chest, looking into his eyes again, and this time you could not be mistaken. They were black. Like black black; you could not see any of the previous colors in his irises, even the sclera was taken over by the color, and it hit you. You took a quick step back, letting go of his body, shocked. Was… was this real?
“I’m still me,” his voice was soft and his hands raised by his sides in that universal sign of I’m not going to hurt you. “It’s always been me.”
“So you’re not… possessed?” you laughed in disbelief.
“No. It’s always been me,” he repeated, taking one step closer to you with one of his hands reaching out, and hesitantly you grabbed it. “Let me show you. I promise you will have a good time.”
Your body was still shaking with fear when you let yourself get closer to him, but his words were starting to reassure you, calm you. If he had always been like this and never harmed you, you would be okay, right? The fear and worry were slowly starting to give way to curiosity and some slight confusion when he started muttering some words under his breath. Now, you did not understand Latin – it was a dead language, come on –, but you were able to pick up that he was almost chanting in it, words like te invoco, spiritus, infernalis, and daemon being spoken with more intensity. He finished saying it and kissed you deeply, his arms encircling your body and pulling you to him, when you suddenly felt another presence behind you, a second body pressing against you, feeling a hard chest pressing you into Namjoon even more. You stopped the kiss, looking over your shoulder, and your eyes stumbled upon another black-eyed figure. This man, this demon, was shorter than Namjoon, but with the way the front of his body was glued to your back, you could feel he was just as muscular, maybe even more, from what you were feeling from his thighs. There were no words for his face. You thought Namjoon was handsome, but this man’s face was on a whole other level of beauty, with those rounded full lips that would give Namjoon’s a run for their money. If it were not for his black eyes you would dare say his face was angelic even, with his light-colored hair parted in the middle. But something about the smirk and raised eyebrows let you know that there was nothing angelic about him.
“Damn, Namjoon. You’ve been hiding her this entire time?” He almost growled, shifting his hips, and you felt the hardness in his pants. “If I’d known, I’d have come sooner.”
“And this is Jimin, Y/n,” he started, scoffing at his… friend? “Now close your eyes and let us take care of you.”
He did not wait for an answer from you, and at the same time his lips found yours, you felt Jimin’s lips on your neck and his hands on your waist, and you could only sigh, close your eyes, and give into these new sensations. The two pairs of hands were roaming your body; the contrast of their clothed bodies against yours, almost naked, was heightening the sensation of your powerlessness, and you had to press your thighs together in an attempt to bring some pressure to your center and relieve some of the aching. You could feel their smirks when you did it, and then Jimin’s hand traveled downwards and on the front of your body, his fingers sneaking under the lingerie to feel your wetness.
“Fuck,” his voice was almost strained, “she’s dripping, Namjoon.” His fingers went all over your mound spreading your wetness around, careful to not touch you for too long to tease you.
“Is this right, Y/n?” Namjoon asked against your lips, then tilted his head back to look at you, his hand joining Jimin’s. “I know you get wet for me, but if I had known you would be dripping like this, I would have brought Jimin much sooner.” He stated as his fingers toyed with the straps of your playsuit, slowly lowering them. “And you are wearing this, today of all days… all in white…”
Namjoon’s fingers teased your nipples lightly at first, just caressing them while Jimin slowly lowered the lingerie down your body, giving open-mouthed kisses to your back and lower and he went down on his knees behind you. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back and grabbing Namjoon’s biceps for balance when Jimin lifted your left feet first then the right, letting the playsuit fall to the ground off your body. You felt a pinch to your nipples, and you sighed, and shortly after you felt his tongue circling it, then his mouth sucking on it, tugging lightly with his teeth. You clenched your legs again, only for Jimin to spread them. You felt Jimin’s breath on your backside, and his hands made you arch your back so he could see you better from behind, but you felt nothing else but his warm breath very close to your center, his hands gripping your thighs from the inside to stop you from closing them. When Namjoon used the fatal combination of pinching down on a nipple harder and biting the other and sucking on it, Jimin chuckled.
“Do that again, Namjoon. She liked it, she just clenched down on nothing so hard.” His mouth was so close to you yet doing nothing, and to worsen the situation, he used his hands to help you spread your legs more. “Tilt your ass towards me, Y/n, I want to see you clench like that again.”
You did so without hesitation, arching your back more so he could see you better, and when Namjoon did it again, inverting touch and bite to the other nipple, you clenched again, needing their touch, needing something. And he combined pulling your nipple with his teeth with his other hand entangling in your hair and pulling it down hard, increasing your arch. You heard Jimin chuckle softly again and then his mouth was pressed to your inner thigh, licking upwards as he moaned, probably tasting the wetness that had started dripping. Namjoon was not being gentle anymore, using the amount of pressure and strength he knew you loved, much rougher than when you were making love, your nipples becoming more sensitive and abused under his ministrations. This moment, with his lips around your nipples, his teeth worrying them, while Jimin licked your thighs, was pure and unadulterated passion and desire. You let one of your hands fall to grab Jimin’s hair to try and direct him, but he let one of your thighs go to wrap his fingers around your wrist while he bit down on your thigh. You moaned in pain, but you loved it.
Your other hand moved from Namjoon’s biceps to the front of his shirt to undo the few buttons that were left, and he paused what he was doing to help you. When you went to unbutton his pants, you felt your arm being pinned to your back by the demon between your legs. You looked back and down, seeing Jimin licking his lips again while he got up. He pulled you against his body, murmuring that tonight was about you and not to worry about them. As he said these words, Namjoon’s long fingers undid his own pants, hooking them under his underwear to take them off at the same time. His erection slapped softly against his stomach, his cock long and thick, the bulbous head already a little wet with precum. He stepped out of his pants, his strong thighs flexing, and he came closer to kiss you again, letting you feel his hardness against your belly. He started to pull you towards the bed, turning your bodies so you could fall against the mattress with him on top, but he did not stay long. He got up, looking at Jimin, and raised his eyebrows.
“You look so innocent like this, wide-eyed looking at us about to devour you,” Jimin started, unbuttoning his shirt slowly, putting on a show for you.
The dark shirt Jimin was wearing opened to reveal toned muscles beneath, ones you had already felt against your back. His light purple hair was slightly messy from your attempt to grab it; his lips were turned up into a corner smile observing the way you were watching him. He let his hands caress down his body, feeling his own muscles, his luscious lips open now. One of his hands went to the button of his pants and the other grabbed his crotch, showing you the outline of his erection, and then he took the black garment off, and he was wearing no underwear. His hand went to his erection again, stroking himself up and down slowly, showing you his body and how proud he seemed of it. His cock was just as beautiful as the rest of him, the head a light pink color, and while he was thinner than Namjoon, he was just as long and curved upwards, and it made you wonder if he could hit that spot without much effort.
“We are going to destroy you, and you will take it all. You will be lying there on the bed, ruined, a sinner, and in the end, you will be begging for me to come back again and wreck you.” Jimin’s voice was deeper, his black eyes shining under the lights and the promise. And then he looked at Namjoon. “Have you done it yet?”
You looked confused for a moment, especially when Namjoon answered a no and Jimin chuckled. And then you understood. Jimin snapped his fingers and your arms were suddenly above your head, pressed on the pillow. You tried moving them but to no avail. Oh. Your chest went up and down quickly, your breath faster, but you smiled.
“Oh, this is new. Can you do it too, Joon?” You needed to know. Had he been hiding this from you this whole time? He licked his lips and snapped his fingers, and then your legs were up, an invisible force holding them up and wide open, spread apart for them. You bit your lip and clenched down on nothing, moaning softly, your head thrown back into the pillow. “This is fun.”
You smiled at them and saw them looking at each other smiling as well, but you could not even imagine what was going through their minds. Could they communicate like that? You had so many questions to ask Joon later, but before your mind could wander any further, your body was being dragged to the edge of the bed by Jimin, who was kneeling on the floor in front of it. You had never felt so exposed before and so without control, although you knew all you had to say was that one word and everything would end.
“She tastes delicious, Jimin. You’re going to love it.” Namjoon sat by you on the bed, looking down at the other man, and lowered his head to whisper in your ear, “you want to know another thing I’ve been hiding? We don’t get tired.”
Namjoon bit your earlobe at the same time that Jimin licked you where you needed the most, from bottom to top. You could only moan loudly and arch your back, your fingers closing into tight a fist and your thighs clenching, but you could not move them. You thought he would make you beg for it, considering all the teasing from before, but he wasted no time and started applying pressure to your clit with his soft tongue, short circular movements alternated with longer licks while his fingers kept your lower lips spread open for him. Unable to move, all you could do was take it, the pleasure intensified by your inability to move your legs; there was no escape from Jimin’s tongue on the underside of your clit, its hood up, leaving it exposed and so sensitive to his probing. While Jimin was doing this, Namjoon began playing with your nipples again. They were already hard and a little red from before, more sensitive, so when he started pinching them again the pain seemed to go straight down to your clit, enhancing your pleasure, and he seemed to know this. He became relentless in teasing them, pinching harder, lowering his body beside you to bite at them, tugging on your nipples and pulling them, letting his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin. Jimin’s tongue was also relentless on your clit, and the first time he felt you getting close to your orgasm, he stopped and looked at you.
“Please, please…” you sobbed and moaned; the desperation clear in your voice as Namjoon did not stop.
“Should we see if she can cum only by teasing her nipples?” Jimin’s voice was playful.
“No, please, please, no, please,” you begged.
“Oh, Namjoon, she begs so beautifully. But is it a no or is it a please, do it?” His tongue was between his teeth, his smile wider now, the look on his face pure teasing. You shook your head negatively, a sob caught in your throat, but he continued, “You’re clenching again, Y/n. I think you can do this. But maybe another day,” you let out a sigh in relief, “another day, when we will tease you for hours, edge you until even our breath will make you cum, how about that?”
Jimin wasted no more time and got back to licking you, making out with your pussy, encompassing it entirely with his mouth, and the moment his lips closed around your clit to suck it, you lost it. It took you by surprise; the sensation usually begins with a slight tingle on your belly, and then it spreads to your fingers, but this time your whole body clenched as pleasure overtook you, his tongue continuing to press on your clit while he sucked to prolong your orgasm. You did not know what sounds came out of your mouth, as your ears seemed to be ringing, numb to sounds. You could barely murmur out a weak stop, but he ignored it – which also relieved you, you did not really want to stop–, choosing to insert a finger and then two into you, moving them in and out at first and then pressing them upwards, looking for the spot inside you that made you see stars. You were about to say you were too sensitive for him to continue when he found it, and as you moaned loudly you heard Namjoon say something to him, but you couldn’t understand what it was, but Jimin’s response was to increase the pressure of his fingers and let your clit go. You were confused for a second but you soon understood when you felt one of Namjoon’s hands moving down, his fingers then making quick movements on your clit, knowing it was what you needed to get you there fast again. This time you felt the sensation growing, a tingling on the tips of your fingers, your toes, as it grew and permeated your entire body again. You thought they would relent, and then you remembered what Namjoon had said. They did not get tired.
You lost count after the fifth orgasm, or so you thought it was the fifth; your voice was hoarse from moaning and your clit was so sensitive from all of the overstimulation, and they did not seem like they wanted to stop anytime soon. You could feel the tears that had escaped your eyes wetting your cheeks, and every once in a while, one of them would lick them away while the other continued his assault on your clit, the pleasure relentlessly taking over you again and again. You did not know anymore when one orgasm ended and the other began, the tingling sensation a constant on your entire body. And then, finally, they snapped their fingers again, releasing your body from the invisible restraints.
You could barely move, but they helped shift and turn your body until you were on your hands and knees, Namjoon’s body behind you. You heard the sound of a small foil packet being opened, and then he was pressing inside you, his cock stretching you even though they had used their fingers before. It was always a stretch, Namjoon going in slowly, giving you time to adjust to his size before starting to thrust his hips into you. On his first thrust forward, you opened your mouth on a moan and Jimin took advantage of the opportunity to press his cock into your lips, holding your hair with one of his hands while the other was at the base of his cock, holding and moving it to go over your lips. You licked around his engorged head and then opened your mouth wider, taking him inside and sucking. You could barely keep your body upright, so soon your hands faltered, and you fell to your elbows, the dip in your spine changing the angle slightly and it had Namjoon pressing into that one spot that had you almost screaming. Jimin lowered his body, sitting down with his legs open to fit you between them, inclining his body backward, bending his elbows to have a good view of you, and it made it easier for you to suck him. His view was nice, your body bent forward, your ass being held by Namjoon’s hands while he pounded into you, but your view was not bad at all.
Jimin’s muscly thighs flexed each time he pressed his hips up, fucking into your mouth, his abs clenching, and his face… his face, dark black eyes half-closed, mouth open in a sly smile, licking his full lips still wet with your taste. You maintained eye contact while you sucked him, bobbing your head up and down, sucking hard when his head was about to leave your mouth, and when you went down, you let your tongue lick the underside. It was sloppy, saliva leaving your mouth, making him wetter and easier for your hand to help whatever did not fit your mouth. You were moaning around him, figuring he would like it as much as Namjoon did, and you were rewarded with high pitched moans from Jimin, his head now thrown back. On a hard suck downwards you felt his thighs clench and his release spill on your mouth at the same time Namjoon played with your clit, and you screamed and soon saw nothing else.
You did not know how long you were out, but when you came to your senses again you were lying on your front, covered by your blanket, and Jimin was nowhere in sight. You heard footsteps entering the room just when you raised your head and saw Namjoon with a cold bottle of water and pants on. He smiled tentatively at you, sitting by your side on the bed. He helped you sit, propped up against him, and you took the bottle from his hands, feeling thirsty.
“Hey,” his voice was almost shy, so different from before and from the usual Namjoon. Well, the Namjoon you thought you knew. “Are you ok?”
You nodded, smiling softly at him between sips. You looked around and then looked at him, the question clear in your eyes.
“Hm, Jimin’s gone now. He helped clean you up and left, we… we did not know if you wanted him here for the after. Or if at all. Or… if you still wanted me.”
It was strange, seeing this difference in him. Namjoon was so confident, especially in the bedroom, and after finding out the truth about him, you could not imagine he would ever be this timid.
“I still want you, Joon,” you could barely speak, but you wanted to reassure him, hugging him tightly. He needed you at this moment as much as you needed him. “I just have some questions, but I still love you.”
“I love you too, Y/n. And I’ll answer whatever you want.” He was eager to respond, his relief apparent in his voice.
“The first question is… can we have fun with Jimin again another time?”
398 notes · View notes
bbyreigns · 3 years
Text
Here For You.
jax teller x black!reader
Warnings: fluff, mentions of sex
My alarm rang loudly and I groaned at the idea of waking up and having such a long day ahead of me. It was a sunny day and the sunlight peeked through my blinds next to me. Reaching over, I turned my alarm off and sat up, stretching a bit. Looking to one side of the bed, I realized that once again, I was alone. It's been almost a year since my husband left me and our 1 year old daughter. I hadn't been the same since. I worked my ass off day and night to provide for my child. And I spent as much time with her as I could. I knew my husband bailing on me wasn't going to keep me from being a great mother. Rolling over to my nightstand, I saw my baby sleeping fast asleep on the monitor. 
Now's the time to take a shower while I can. I thought, climbing out of bed. Walking into my bathroom, I turned the shower knob on to hot, seeing the water flow steadily. Walking over to the mirror, I looked at myself, running my hands over my face in exhaustion. As I waited for the water to heat up, I grabbed my small speaker and turned my phone onto my favorite playlist. 
Allowing the water to touch my fingertips, I realized the shower was now hot enough and I stepped in. As I washed my body and let the warm water flow over my face, I thought about getting through yet another day. Quickly finishing up, I turned the water off and grabbed my towel, making my way back into my bedroom. Once I was dressed and lotioned and my teeth were brushed, I walked down the hall to my daughter's bedroom. Opening the door, my daughter smiled at me, her pacifier still in her mouth as she sat in her crib. 
"Good morning, baby," I cooed, as she reached her arms up for me to pick her up. I scooped her up, kissing her soft cheek. "Let's get dressed." I opened her closet, moving her closer to her clothes. 
"What would you like to wear today, munchkin?" I said, pulling a few dresses out of her closet. I let her reach out and choose one. Her little hand landed on a green dress with pink flowers. "Great choice, honey." 
After I changed her diaper and got her out of her PJs and dressed, we headed out of the house. I buckled her into her car seat and we were on our way. My mom normally takes her while I work. About five minutes into the ride, my low pressure light came on and I come feel my car leaning to one side. 
"Shit," I whispered, realizing I have a flat. "Looks like we're going to be late princess." 
I drove to the closest mechanic, Teller-Morrow, putting my car in park. I took my daughter out of her car seat, grabbed her diaper bag from the trunk and sat her on my hip. As I walked to the door, a few men came out. One was blond, crystal blue eyes, walked with a lean. Handsome. I thought. The other was blond too and seemed nervous and jittery. Looking at their jackets, I could tell they were on their way somewhere. I knew all about the Sons of Anarchy, but I also knew that what they do is what's necessary and best for Charming. 
"Hi, um I'm pretty sure I have a flat," I said, pointing to my slanted Honda Civic. 
"Looks like you've got more than that," the handsome one said. 
"Jesus, is it going to take a long time?" I asked. 
"You're going to have to leave it here for at least a day," he replied. I sighed before texting my supervisor that I wouldn't be in today. "I can take you and the little princess home." He smiled, poking my daughter's hand. She grinned shyly and put her head on my shoulder. I nodded and said thank you and leaned against my car. 
"I'm Jax, by the way," he stated. 
"Y/N. Nice to meet you," I replied with a smile. He told me he had a few things to tie up before he took me home so I waited by my car until he was finished. As I waited, I played with my daughter, throwing her up a little and catching her. She giggled, clutching me every time she came back down. 
"Can you give Mommy a kiss?" I cooed, holding her high again. As I brought her back down to eye level, she hummed, making that mmm sound with her lips.
"Mmwah," I said with her to meet her in the middle. "Ooohhh thank you baby. You are so sweet."
Little did I know, Jax had been watching some of our interaction. 
Second Person POV Jax had gone to let the other guys know where he was going. When he returned, he saw you making faces at your daughter as she giggled and throwing her in the air. 
"Who's the hot mom?" Opie asked and tapped him on the shoulder. Looking at you, Jax couldn't help but be attracted. 
"Not sure yet. She is hot though, right?" Jax replied. 
"For sure. You hittin' that?" Opie leaned over to ask. 
"Nah, don't know her all that well," Jax stated, glancing at Ope. 
"Hm. Shit, if you don't, I will," Ope chuckled. Jax smiled and nodded, making his way back to you. 
Your POV "Hey, you ready?" Jax asked. I nodded, grabbing my daughter's car seat out of my car. He walked me over to his truck and I buckled my daughter into her seat, before going to the passenger's side. Jax opened the door for me and I thanked him. As he drove, I told him my address and started to make small conversation. 
"I really appreciate you doing this," I said with a smile. 
"It's no problem. Have you lived in Charming a long time?" He questioned. 
"Almost two years. It's a nice town. Quiet. Crime kept at bay for the most part," I replied, glancing out of the window. 
"Yeah, Charming PD does a good job of that," he stated with hesitation. I chuckled at his statement. I knew Charming PD weren't the ones keeping the crime low. "What?"
"We both know it's not the cops handling the crime here. It's got everything to do with that jacket you have on," I said, looking at him. 
He nodded with a smile, saying "You think you know everything, huh?". 
I leaned over, putting my lips next to his ear. "Not everything, but I know enough about you, Jax Teller." We pulled up to my house and I glanced at my daughter who was fast asleep. 
"Pretty big house for just the two of you," Jax said. 
"Yeah, um I'm divorced. So it's just me and her now," I explained. He nodded and apologized. I grabbed my daughter from her car seat and walked her to the front door, unlocking it and turning to Jax. "Come in. I'm just gonna put her down in her room." 
I slowly walked her up to her room, giving her a kiss on the forehead, before shutting her door and grabbing the baby monitor on the way out. Jax stood by the front door waiting for me. 
"Thanks again for the ride home. Can I get you anything? Coffee? Something to drink?" I offered, leading him into the kitchen. 
"No thanks I'm alright. If you don't mind me asking, why'd you get divorced?" He inquired. 
"Um it's complicated. Everything was perfect l, especially when I found out I was pregnant. We'd been trying for a baby for a really long time. Rob was over the moon when we found out were having a girl. But I'm a laywer and I was working a big case. I wasn't home much right before we found out and in the beginning of my pregnancy. He thought I was cheating on him. Started being really aggressive and it only amplified when I gave birth," I started getting choked up as I spoke. "He didn't think she looked like him. Said that maybe I was sleeping around. Although really I was busting my ass on the biggest case in my career and about to bring in much more money than I'd ever had." 
Jax put his arm around me, pulling my head to his chest. "Anyway, he said he refused to take care of another man's baby. So he left us and left me with a 4 month old newborn baby," I cried softly. Looking up at Jax, I felt bad for crying. "Sorry, I just get a little emotional. I don't miss him or anything. I just wanted my little girl to have a father." 
"It's okay. Everything is going to be fine. You're a great mother and you're beautiful, darlin'. Any one would be lucky to have you," he glanced down at me, making eye contact. I stared into his icy blue eyes, my eyes switching from his eyes back to his lips over and over again. Lightly grabbing the back of my neck, he brought my lips to his, kissing me softly. I slightly pulled away and Jax wiped my tears away with his thumb, before connecting our lips again. We made out, slowly as our lips melted together. 
It had been a long time since I had sex and to be completely honest, I felt really needy. But for some reason, I trusted Jax. With his hand in mine, I led him to my bedroom, kicking my shoes off at the door. He assisted me in removing my pants and blazer, and lightly pushed me into the bed. The protective mother in me made me take a quick glance at the baby monitor, seeing my daughter still fast asleep. Jax kissed me again, beginning to kiss down my jawline and neck. He was extremely gentle with me, asking me if what he was doing was okay. Jax paid extra attention to making me feel good and that I finished. Multiple times. He made sure he didn't hurt me and I was grateful for that. I woke up two hours later with my head in Jax's chest. He was looking at me, kissing my forehead when I woke. 
"Hey," he said softly, kissing my lips. But for some reason, I was in pure panic. Looking at the baby monitor, I saw my daughter awake but playing with the rattles in her crib. I grabbed the sheet, wrapping it around my body quickly. "Everything alright?"
"I promise I don't normally do this. I'm sorry. I think you should go," I responded. I just had sex with someone I met today. I'm so not the hook up type. "If you're looking for a fuck buddy, I promise I'm not that."He looked at me confused, grabbing my arm and pulling me down to him. 
"That's not my intention, beautiful. I like you. I'd like to get to know you better," he said, running his fingers down my back. 
"Pretty sure we're past the getting to know each other part. Again, I think you should go, Jax," I said, trying to get up. 
"Alright," he responded, starting to get dressed. I washed my face in the bathroom, trying not to think about what I'd done. When he finished dressing, he walked behind me, placing his hands around my waist. He used his hand to gently free my neck as he placed light kisses on it, getting closer to my ear with each press of his lips. "But next time you’re lookin’ for some fun and preferably, wanna go out sometime, you know where to find me." 
I looked at him in the mirror as he smiled at me, biting his lip. Damn, that Teller charm. He left my bedroom on that note and I heard the front door close behind him. I sighed, pondering why I was so into this man I'd only met five hours ago. I put my robe on and checked the baby monitor once again, seeing her still playing. A little piece of green paper was next to it, with a number and a name on it. I rolled my eyes, thinking of that handsome biker who gave me butterflies. Making my way to my daughter's room, I picked her up, giving her a kiss on the forehead. But that Jax Teller never left my mind and I wasn't sure how to feel about that. 
219 notes · View notes
taetaespeaches · 3 years
Text
“Is that drawer still available?”
namjoon x reader (or oc) genre: fluff; angst word count: 3.8K
a/n: Hi lovelies! This is what takes place after Joon and Daisy have their fight (sort of fight?) in “The strings are attached already.” We start with Joon’s perspective of things before moving back into Daisy’s mind. I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :)) 
Oh, also, this features a bit of Yoongi, coming in clutch with some subtle-ish advice. 
p.s. this also fulfills a prompt request by @bulletproof-eternally​ (hi love) from ages ago: “We could be an epic novel of forbidden lovers. Like Romeo and Juliet, but without the ending.” 
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THE beat sounding from Yoongi’s monitor was hardly even registering in Namjoon’s mind with you filling every corner of it, taking over each one of his thoughts.
Staring at the screen mindlessly, he didn’t recognize Yoongi’s voice calling for his attention until at least the fifth time the older man spoke, “Namjoon.” Eyes snapping to his work partner, Yoongi shrugged. “What do you think?”
Running his hand over his face, Namjoon sighed. “Play it again.” Without asking the questions that were present in his mind, Yoongi simply restarted the instrumental.
As the beat played on, Yoongi interjected thoughts such as, “this is where you could do your verse,” and “I’m thinking a pre-chorus by Jin and Tae here.” But at receiving no response, Yoongi paused the music and turned to Namjoon. “What the hell is going on with you today?”
“Huh?” Namjoon asked in surprise. “Nothing, I just- I’m gonna get a coffee.” Yoongi huffed, sitting back in his chair as he stared at the monitor, the unfinished beat with an impending deadline putting him on edge. “Do you want-” Namjoon started to offer as he began to stand up, but slamming his knee of Yoongi’s desk sent him right back in the chair. “Fuck!”
Yoongi looked at his younger member in concern, not sure what to do for the man. “You ok?”
“I’m fine,” Namjoon said dismissively and shortly.
“Yeah, sure you are,” Yoongi retorted disbelievingly. Placing a hand to the younger man’s shoulder to keep him seated, Yoongi stood and walked toward the exit. “I’ll get the coffee,” he said just before slipping through the door.
Namjoon needed to get his head on straight. Replace the relationship problems from his nonexistent relationship with concerns of work. That’s what he needed to do.
But when Yoongi returned with the coffee, and Namjoon proceeded to spill the hot liquid over his own hand, he realized removing you from his thoughts would be an impossible task. He was distracted by you and the look on your face as you tried to hold back tears. Even if they were of your own doing, they hurt him to see.
“Ok, what the hell is wrong with you today?” Yoongi asked, beyond annoyed by his friend’s lack of focus.
“Nothing, I just need to reel my thoughts in,” Namjoon told him, trying to avoid a conversation about you with his band member who hardly knew you were a concern to be had.
“Maybe it would help to talk about it,” Yoongi suggested, feigning disinterest as he took a sip of his coffee. When Namjoon scoffed, Yoongi simply shrugged. “We’re not getting any work done anyway so,” the man said, cutting himself off as he awaited Namjoon’s next words.
“What are you meant to do when you’re seeing someone and want to make things more exclusive and official but they’re resisting?” Namjoon asked, embarrassment spreading across his cheeks in a light pink tint.
However, Namjoon didn’t realize how close the question would hit Yoongi, the older man clearing his throat as he sat up, setting his coffee down. “Uh, why do you ask?” The two guys sat in silence for a moment, Namjoon giving Yoongi a look as if to say, you know why. “So I met the reason last week,” Yoongi realized, Namjoon nodding. “It’s safe to assume you two aren’t just friends then?” Yoongi asked dumbly, Namjoon letting out a single laugh.
“Uh, yeah,” Namjoon breathed out. “Haven’t been since the first night.”
“Right,” Yoongi nodded awkwardly, acting as though he didn’t already know you and Namjoon were fucking around. “So you want to be more and she doesn’t?”
“Yup,” Namjoon nodded, staring in front of him at the beat displayed on the screen. “Maybe I deserve it.”
“What?” Yoongi asked, eyebrows pulled together in question at the ridiculous statement. “What are you on about?”
“I just think- Maybe she’s too good for me,” Namjoon said, rather pathetically in Yoongi’s opinion. However, the look on his face showed the older man that Namjoon was in serious doubt about his own worth.
“That’s ridiculous, you’re great,” Yoongi told the man bluntly, Namjoon looking toward his friend but avoiding his gaze. “Look, I don’t know her all that well yet, but it was obvious to every single person in the dorm last week that she likes you as much as you like her.”
“Well, I mean, that’s how it feels sometimes but then why won’t she be with me?” Namjoon asked in frustration. “She’s so confusing.”
“She is with you,” Yoongi pointed out to Namjoon with a sense of understanding. “It’s just the label that’s scaring her.”
“Scaring her?” Namjoon asked, not having totally thought of that possible conclusion himself. He knew you were holding yourself back, but he assumed it had to do him and his worthiness.
“She’s probably scared of committing for whatever reason,” Yoongi shrugged. “And it’s probably not related to you. If it is it’s probably because she doesn’t feel deserving or something, I don’t know.”
Pulling his eyebrows together in curiosity, Namjoon met his older member’s eyes. “How do you know this?”
“Experience,” Yoongi said simply before grabbing the mouse and clicking something on the screen.
Nodding slowly, Namjoon realized just how much his friend had been keeping from him. “How long have you been seeing whoever is on the other end of that phone you’re always on?” He asked with an edge of playfulness in his tone.
Trying to hold back the curve of his lips, Yoongi smiled as he continued facing the screen. “It’s new.” Namjoon smirked, happy for his member having found someone, even if he was holding out on introducing her. “But I almost fucked it up. Because she’s too good. And I thought I was undeserving.” Yoongi didn’t elaborate anymore on the subject, but Namjoon understood what he was saying.
“Well, shit,” Namjoon breathed out in realization that there was probably an entire thought process going on in his potential lover’s head that he knew nothing about. “I should probably talk to her, huh?”
Nodding, Yoongi took a glance at his younger friend. “Just ask her about it. I can almost guarantee it has nothing to do with you not being good enough,” he gave the tiniest of reassuring smiles. “It’s probably the opposite.”
Sighing deeply, Namjoon thought of you and the internal conflict that must be going on inside your head at the moment. That is until Yoongi interrupted his thoughts, pulling Namjoon’s attention back to the work that needed to be done.
“Or maybe it is you and you should just forget about this whole thing and focus on this fucking song that’s due today,” he teased in a joking tone, Namjoon letting out a light chuckle.
“Yeah, I’m sorry,” he apologized bashfully. “Restart the track, I’m here now.”
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When Namjoon left his apartment that morning, you were still there, failing to hold back tears as rain threatened to fall outside. He left you with a decision: stay and be with him, or leave, possibly for good. When he returned that afternoon, the rain was pouring, drenching his hair and clothes as the weight of your decision sat heavy in his mind.
The trek from the doors of the apartment building to the elevator had his heart racing more than usual, the fear of what he’d find, or not find, within his home suffocating the man. How would he accept the conclusion to this thing with you if you weren’t there?
Over the course of your fling, he’d come to know your heart as a hearth. The center of his home. He’d felt its warmth, the comfort and security you provided. But he also knew the bitter cold that chilled him to the bone when you locked him out. He wasn’t sure anyone else’s warmth would be able to thaw his numb existence if you walked out of his life.
Yet, reaching his apartment door, he still had hope. Because no matter how many times you’d tried to keep him at a distance, you always pulled him even closer than before. He trusted you. You’d given him a million reasons to expect disappointment, and he still believed in you.
Unlocking the door and pushing it open, all he could hear was the drum of his heart pounding against his chest. Scanning the living space, his heart dropped just slightly at no trace of you. But the hope remained. You could still be in the bedroom. Or the bathroom. He felt you in there still. It didn’t feel like an abandoned home.
Calling out your name, he strode toward the bedroom, peeking inside the open door to see… emptiness. The room was filled with his belongings, as full of meaning and personality as ever, but it felt so barren. With the bathroom door down the hall open as well, his heart stopped for a moment. You were gone.
Entering the bedroom, he scanned the space, the chill of the outdoors already filling the typically warm area. Or perhaps it was the absence of you. The top drawer of his dresser, the one he offered to you, was left ajar, drawing him closer to check its contents.
If there could just be one piece of you in there, just a single item, he’d have that hope to hold onto for just a bit longer. He approached the furniture much slower than he did the bedroom, his confidence significantly faltering the longer he stood in the apartment without you there.
With his index finger, he tugged the drawer open just a bit more as he peered over the edge to look inside. A sharp exhale left him as tears instantly pricked his eyes, a lump of emotion forming in his throat. It was empty.
Placing his palm flat against the outside of the drawer, he prepared to slam it shut when the dirty clothes hamper to the side of the dresser caught his eyes. Appearing purposefully placed, sitting on top of his clothing, was your lost shirt. As if you mindlessly placed it there, unknowingly designating the domestic space as a shared one.
Slowly, he reached for the garment, lifting it out of the hamper just as the echo of the front door opening filled the otherwise silent apartment. His legs were moving him toward the bedroom door before his mind could even comprehend the situation.
He was standing in the door frame before his head and heart caught up with him. There you were, the drenched t-shirt he offered you that morning hanging off your frame, your hand clenched over the strap of a tote bag, your eyes wide as you stared at him in surprise, your chest heaving as if you ran all the way there. The sight of you simultaneously knocking the air from his lungs and filling them with life.
Lifting the tote you carried, gesturing to the contents, you sighed. “Is that drawer still available?”
Heart racing, you watched as Namjoon marched toward you, your eyes filling with tears because it was him. And he was yours. Fuck, you were terrified, but he was worth it. When his arms clasped around your waist, pulling you tightly against his frame, your arms easily wrapped around the back of his neck as you exhaled in relief.
“God, I’m so sorry,” you mumbled against his face as you pressed repeated kisses to his cheek. “I’m so so sorry.”
“Don’t ever scare me like that again,” he complained lightheartedly, pulling away just enough to bring his lips to yours, pecking you softly in a quick succession.
“You’re home early,” you explained between kisses. “I meant to be here when you got back.” The man’s lips curved into a grin, his stunning dimples greeting you.
You did mean to be there. You meant to have that fucking drawer filled with your belongings. You meant to be sitting in his room when he returned, smiling at him, telling him you wanted him and you were sorry that the decision wasn’t this simple from the start but it was simple now and you were choosing him.
To be honest, the conversation with Jungkook a week ago had been weighing on your mind. He’s happy with you, Jungkook had told you. Namjoon was happy with you. And you were happy with him. It was that simple.  
Resting his forehead against your own, his rapid breathing began evening out, your fingers running comfortingly along his neck. “I’m sorry for keeping you in the dark,” you apologized sincerely, a tear sliding down your face. “For giving you so many mixed signals.”
“No, no,” he quickly negated, dropping the shirt to your feet as his hands came to hold your face, his thumb wiping away the tear. “I’m sorry for putting pressure on you,” he counter-apologized, you shaking your head sadly.
“Joon, don’t do that. Don’t you dare apologize,” you cried. “You’ve been so amazing, you just- you are amazing. Like so amazing that you terrify me,” you admitted, Namjoon pulling away from you so his eyes could scan your features, his thumb catching another tear as it escaped your bottom lash line.
“I terrify you? Babe, how is that possible? You scare the living hell out of me,” he chuckled, you letting out a light laugh with him as you glanced downward.
“I gained feelings for you so easily, and-” you looked up to meet his intense gaze. “You’re so incredible, and this kind of thing,” you gestured between you both, “doesn’t always work out,” you explained, Namjoon’s stare softening in slow realization. “You’re so much to lose.”
“Babe,” he whispered empathetically, your words paralleling the talk he had with Yoongi. You weren’t holding back because Namjoon wasn’t good enough, but rather because you felt he was so good. And the thought of losing something so good was too much to bear.
“I didn’t plan on feeling this way toward you, and when it happened so quickly, I just got scared,” you sobbed, your bottom lip jutting out in a pout as tears fell onto your cheeks. “If I lost you, I don’t know if I’d recover,” you told him, followed by a sniffle.
When tears formed in Namjoon’s own eyes, your heart swelled in affection and you wanted to protect him. “I just have had this persistent belief stuck in my brain that it’s better to not have something so great at all than to have it and lose it,” you explained shaking your head. “But that’s so stupid, because you’re the best and I want you, I’ve wanted you. I’m still scared but I fucking want you, Joon.”
The man didn’t say anything, instead choosing to kiss you hard, the action full of passion and understanding, his lips working perfectly against your own. Before, you wondered if you and Namjoon had met in another lifetime. In that moment, however, it felt as though you’d been waiting for this in every lifetime, or possibly fighting it, never fully getting it. Getting him. But in this moment, this lifetime, you finally got it right.
Pulling away from the kiss, Namjoon’s hands held your face as his eyes scanned your features. Letting out a breath, he wrapped his arms around your head in a hug, your face finding solace against his neck, his skin still wet but characteristically warm as always. “When I got home and you weren’t here, I could see my whole life continuing on without you and everything was,” he sighed, “cold.”
“Joonie,” you whispered, your face scrunching up in emotion.
“You make me happy,” he assured you. And there were those words again that made this whole thing so simple. “Being vulnerable around you- I’m scared too,” he admitted. “And maybe the fear of losing all of this will always be there, because we are a lot to lose. But we’re so much more to gain.”
The words sunk in slow but penetrated deep within you, his sentiment being the first time you ever thought about fear and love going hand in hand. Of course it was scary. Life is unpredictable. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t live while you can, especially when something so wonderful presents itself. And with that thought in mind, you had no doubt that you were exactly where you wanted to be.
“Do you still want me to be your girlfriend?” You asked through a small smile, Namjoon loosening the hug to look at you, his lips curving up, his dimples appearing as perfect divots. “Because if so, I would really like for you to be my boyfriend.”
“Then it looks like you’re my girlfriend now,” he grinned happily, kissing your forehead gently.
“Say it again,” you whispered.
“What? You’re my girlfriend?” His eyebrows raised with the teasing question.
“Yeah,” you giggled, kissing the man’s lips tenderly. “Again.”
“You’re my girlfriend,” he repeated before deepening the kiss.
Losing yourselves in the kiss, his lips on yours, your fingers threaded into his hair as you desperately tugged on the locks, Namjoon smirking against your mouth just as you lightly bit his plump bottom lip. His hands moved to hold your hips, pulling you closer to him, causing you to step forward, effectively slipping on the clothing that the man had previously dropped at your feet, your forehead hitting Namjoon’s cheekbone with a light force.
“Oh my god, are you ok?” You asked, inspecting his face, Namjoon chuckling in amusement as he squeezed your hips in his grasp.
“Are you ok?” He countered, you giggling as you nodded.
“Come here, babe,” you cooed, angling his face so you could leave a few sweet kisses to his cheek. “Is that-?” You asked, looking to the floor, spotting the source of the near fall.
Bending to pick up the shirt, you let out a small gasp in surprise. “Guess where it was,” Namjoon playfully started, you pulling your eyebrows together in question. “The clothes hamper.”
“No way,” you giggled, realizing you must have put it in there with unknowing purpose. “Well, I prefer this shirt anyway,” you teased, looking down to the t-shirt Namjoon had given you to wear.
“It looks a little wet,” he said suggestively, looking down at your frame in a way that made you want to strip everything off that very second.
Shrugging, you cocked your head at him, your fingers toying with the damp strands at the nape of his neck. “Maybe you should take it off me then,” you suggested with a smirk, Namjoon immediately tugging on the material. “Yours is a little wet too, babe,” you pointed out playfully as you ran your hand down his chest.
“Well,” he looked down at his own shirt for a moment. “Would you look at that.” Laughing at his remark, you kissed him softly before smiling against his mouth.
“Hey, before we go any further with this whole taking these off,” you tugged on the fabric over his pectoral, “can we talk about something real quick?” You asked, knowing you were completely killing the mood but needing to be on the same page.
“What’s up? You ok?” He asked, a nervousness seeping into his tone and features, though he tried to appear calm.
“No, yeah, everything is fine, it’s just,” you tilted your head to the side in thought. “Can we keep this whole boyfriend girlfriend thing between us for now?” You asked, hoping the question didn’t come across in any way other than how you meant it. “I just want to take our time getting used to the label and the new terms and be able to adjust to everything that comes with this before we invite other people in.”
“Other people as in,” he started, “my members?”
“I just want to be really certain and comfortable and properly established before they know,” you said guiltily, the man smiling in amusement to your nerves.
“That’s fine, babe, I get it,” he nodded, kissing your cheek comfortingly. “Properly established,” he teased you, causing you to groan as you poked his chest in slight embarrassment.
“Stop teasing me,” you giggled. “The guys just mean a lot to you and honestly they already mean a lot to me so I just want to know exactly what we are and feel good about where we’re at before us includes all of us,” you explained unnecessarily, though it felt very necessary to you. “Does that make sense?”
“Of course it makes sense,” he assured you with a fond smile. “You’re really cute, you know that?”
Grinning at him, you nodded, jokingly confirming that you did indeed know that. Namjoon laughed before kissing your lips quickly, you slightly chasing him, causing the man to flash you a smirk. “This could be fun,” he commented, you raising your eyebrows at him.
“Yeah?” You asked, Namjoon nodding, causing you to hum in agreement. “We could be an epic novel of forbidden lovers,” you said seductively, dragging your finger along his collarbone. “Like Romeo and Juliet, but without the ending,” you added, Namjoon chuckling at you as he pulled you closer once again, nuzzling his face against your neck. “We’re not really forbidden either but you get the vibe,” you continued, Namjoon’s breathy laugh tickling your skin.
“I get the vibe,” he confirmed humorously, you giggling as he kissed the spot on your neck a few times, you biting your bottom lip in response. “Although, Romeo and Juliet is a tragedy,” he pointed out, you groaning in annoyance at him.
“I said without the ending, you said you get the vibe, Dimples,” you complained, Namjoon laughing further.
“Sorry, sorry, I get the vibe,” he playfully told you, trailing kisses along your jaw.
“I don’t think you do get the vibe,” you teased, though a small moan cut you off.
“I get the vibe, babe,” he assured just before attaching his lips to yours once again, you immediately deepening the action as you started pushing him backward toward his bedroom.
With him so close, your door wide open to his presence, a warmth spread across your body at the feeling and the realization that he was yours and you were his, and in the kind of way that you both could feel secure in being each other’s. You were still scared, but you were happy.
You never planned on meeting Namjoon, and you definitely weren’t planning to fall for the man. But standing in his apartment, in his embrace, you found yourself feeling as though you were home. As unexpectedly as Namjoon entered your life, he never felt foreign. In fact, he’d felt familiar since the first night you spent with him. Just now, you were finally allowing yourself to make yourself at home, take your coat and shoes off, well, and the rest of your clothes, and even leave them in his dirty clothes hamper. Because you were finally home.
And you’d finally fill that fucking drawer.
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what-the--curtains · 3 years
Text
Not a Piece of Art
Part 2/5 - The Dinner Party
(Javier Peña x f!reader)
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Summary: You’re invited to the targets house for dinner, will they see through your act? Or can you keep your hatred hidden for long enough to get the information you need?
Authors note: Thank you for all the lovely comments and likes and reblogs💕❤️! I’ve been feeling kinda bleh recently so I apologize for it taking so long and I’m also sorry if it’s crap but I’m pretty happy with the story line (also there’s gonna be a follow up to this series for sure). Anyways hope y’all are keeping well and thank you for reading!!
Warnings: THIS STORY WILL BE 18+ starting next chapter (minors DNI) . For now it’s just swearing and allusions to abusive relationships
Word count: 5.7k
Tagged: @trash-dino-5000 @diogodxlot @agingerindenial
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You watch the moving trucks hired by the DEA to facilitate your luxurious, but imaginary lifestyle roll up the driveway one after the other. Each truck opened to reveal piece after piece of expensive furniture better suited to the silver screen than your real life adding to the dysphoria you'd been feeling over the past few days. You were now living and enjoying someone else's life, a fact that left an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach. Though the anxiety you were feeling was likely due to the very real threat of being murdered, and not the lavish home decor you were now in possession of. If there was one thing to be thankful for it was your close proximity to the water, you’d been landlocked for too long. Peace washes over you as you watch the water break against the cliff face. You turn towards the target's house gazing up to the balcony on the third floor. The doors are swung open and a woman in white stands with her arms outstretched on the railing, standing like a queen overseeing her kingdom. You were being watched. You lift your hand up to block out the sun, hoping to get a better look at her, but she's gone by the time you do.
Noticing the overwhelmed look plastered on your face as the trucks arrived Javier decided he would take on directing the movers. Only calling for your help when furniture needed to be placed, as interior design was admittedly not in his wheelhouse.
“You know where that goes?” Javi asks the movers, lighting up a cigarette and placing it between his lips. The movers nod as they lug the enormous mattress inside. He turns scanning the landscape to locate your whereabouts, you'd been all over the place this morning. Whether you were playing into the spacey artist trope or the pressure was finally getting to you he wasn’t really sure. Either way he wanted to make this transition as easy as possible for you, and considering you weren't a field agent it was also his responsibility to keep you safe. He spots you near the walkway that leads down to the ocean, a gentle breeze blows in from the beachfront causing the linen dress wrapped around you to part just above your thigh. There's a relaxed smile etched on your face, resulting in a calm that Javi had never witnessed emanating from you before.
An arm snakes around your waist and you lean into it for a moment before remembering who it belonged to causing your body to instinctively retract. You push back off his chest and watch as Peña shakes his head in quiet frustration before turning back towards the moving trucks. You chew your lip, you knew you had to do better at acting the part you’d been ordered to play. If you didn’t this mission would be over before it even started. Memorizing your alias was easy enough as was adopting the british accent, but acting in love with Peña. That was where it all fell apart, but if there was one thing you knew for sure it was that you did your best work under pressure. You swallow hard as the last few trucks slip away down the driveway. The notion of being left alone with Peña for the first time was an anxiety not even the ocean could sooth. With a deep breath you will your legs to move towards your new home which is currently looking more like a cell. You walk by Peña who snuffs out his cigarette in the dirt before following you inside.
“Why would two people ever need a house this big?” he asks, closing the door behind you, his voice bouncing off the marble walls.
“So they never have to see each other.” you offer, running your hand along the granite countertops.
“That felt targeted,” he says, watching your hands movement intently.
“It wasn’t, at least not intentionally. You notice how this whole back wall is glass? Weird design choice” you remark, trying to open up a civil dialogue with him.
“Probably built it so they can keep tabs on the neighbours” he offers coming up behind you, standing a little too close for comfort.
“Why build a house across from yours if you're trying to be undetected?” you ask, turning around nearly colliding with his chest, huffing at the inconvenience before maneuvering around him.
“If you were a federal agent and a big empty house was available for a stake out would you take it or would you go for the rocky beach or bug infested forest? Keep your enemies close, they expect the feds to show up here, so they make it easy to monitor” he explains, in a surprisingly uncondescending way.
“Hadn’t thought about that” you admit.
“Don’t teach you everything in those fancy buildings with ivory towers” he chuckles, as he sits down on one of the couches.
“Never claimed that they did” you retort “did they bring any food in?” you ask, moving towards the fridge.
“Not sure, figured the kitchen was your domain, can you bring me a beer” Javi says, the subtle misogyny fueling the rage simmering inside you.
“I’m sorry what exactly did your last servant die of?” You snap back.
“What? We’re supposed to keep up appearances” he responds calmly from the couch, feet crossed on the coffee table that cost more than your yearly rent.
“And what exactly is my appearance supposed to be? The domesticated housewife who brings you beer, cooks you dinner and sucks you off?” you respond, rage finally boiling over.
“Well I hadn't asked for that last one yet but...”
“Unbelievable! You can cook for yourself Peña. I'm not your wife and im definitely not your fucking mother”
“You certainly nag like her. Seriously a beer, it's not asking much” he demands.
“You know...” you say opening the fridge and pulling out a beer walking it over to him “I don't know if you’ve heard...” you continue, nudging his feet off the table with your calves as you place the beer down “of these amazing things...” you say, kneeling down, parting his legs and rising up between them, making eyes at him as you slowly run your hands up his thighs. “Called legs!” you state slapping your palms down on his thighs smiling as the growing smirk on his face quickly disappears “You should try using them sometime” you finish standing back up, grabbing the beer from the table and heading back into the kitchen to cook yourself, and only yourself, dinner. You'd managed to stay out of each other's hair for the rest of the evening, but another blowout ensued when it came to figuring out your sleeping situation.
“C'mon you don't have to be such a...” Javi exclaims calmly
“Such a what Peña?” you ask watching him bite his tongue “No please finish that sentence. I’d love to hear what thought provoking and truly innovative ideas you have about me.” You retort
“Just get in the bed” he pleads, lifting up the sheets and motioning his hand towards it.
“With you? I'd rather be shot” you state.
“Keep acting like this and your wish may just get granted sweetheart” he says through gritted teeth, the petulant show you were putting on wearing thin.
“Newsflash Peña! They can’t see us in here, so I think I'll take my chances on the couch” you assumed it was far enough away from the windows to keep you from prying eyes.
“Your fucking funeral” he shouts down the hall, watching you storm off with an armful of sleepwear you'd brought from home. The sleepwear was not flattering nor did it fit into the rich aesthetic you were currently upholding, but at this point, you didn't care. You'd chosen the oversized band shirt and basketball shorts because they hid your body away from prying eyes. Not that Peña would be looking, you hardly qualified as his type. You flop down on the couch rolling your eyes at the beer bottles he’d left there, likely for you to clean up. Irritated you fall asleep, cursing the couch for being inexplicably the most uncomfortable thing you'd ever had the misfortune of sitting on.
Your woken as the doorbell sounds throughout the house startling you so badly that you fall off the couch with a loud thud. “Shit!” you curse realizing it was likely the target. As quick as you can, you strip off your pyjamas and throw on the robe you had snatched in a hurry last night, only just realizing it was practically sheer. You yawn as you open the door to a beautiful woman who you immediately recognize as the target's wife, Helena. Presumably the same woman who you had seen on the balcony yesterday. She looked every bit a billionaire's wife with her hair neatly styled, 6 inch heels and perfect makeup while you, well you currently looked, and smelt, like you’d slept in a sewer.
“Hi im Helena, we saw you move in yesterday, we live next door.”
“We?” you ask squinting into the early morning light as another yawn escapes your lips
“Me and my husband” She says looking past you towards the couch where you had slept. Shit. Peña was not going to let you live that one down. Speaking of the devil, he appears from the bedroom in an open robe, and very thin linen pants, a look that made you realize why so many women were easily charmed by him.
“Cara mia, who's at the door?” he asks, eyes darting to the obviously slept in couch before settling on the beautiful woman standing before him. A woman who'd have his full attention if it wasn't for the transparent robe clumsily wrapped around your body.
“Our new neighbor” you say, refraining from using a cutesy nickname afraid you'd choke on it.
“Forgive my wife, she hasn’t been sleeping well” he says, coming over and wrapping himself around you, kissing the top of your head, before resting his chin on it.
“I find I sleep best when next to my husband” she responds offering Javi a megawatt smile which he returns.
“Maybe if your husband doesn't snore like an elephant” you respond sleepily with a soft laugh. You were surprised how well the british accent rolled off your tongue despite the early hour.
“Mine does as well, shakes the whole house! The things we put up with when we are truly in love are amazing” shes says, reigniting your anxiety “We want you to come for dinner, we've hired a chef” she continues.
“We’d love to, always good to know the neighbours, we like to make sure we're keeping good company” Javi reponds.
“Excellent, lets say, 7:30, be on time, my husband doesn't like to be kept waiting.” The second the door shuts you wiggle out from his grasp and make your way over to the kitchen pouring yourself, and only yourself, some coffee, still tired from the piss poor sleep you'd gotten last night. At least this time it wasn’t because you had to listen to someone having rigourous sex through the walls.
Javier follows close behind snatching the cup from your hands and taking a sip, knowing full well it wasn’t meant for him. He watches your eyes bulge slightly and your jaw tightens before you storm off into the bedroom to change out of the see through robe, much to his dismay.
“We need to go over the plan for tonight,” he says from the kitchen.
“Alright what is it?” you ask emerging in one of the many luxurious outfits provided to you.
“We’ll scout it out, find the room where they keep the paintings nd take the samples you need.”
“Ya” you say “and how exactly am I supposed to sneak in test tubes filled with liquid that traces drugs. ” you ask
“Bring a purse? I don't know. You're the genius you figure it out” he shrugs.
“I could wear a long skirt and strap them to my legs?”
“No they'll know you're hiding something,” he says, shooting down your idea.
“Purse it is then” you respond. “If they come back positive then what?”
“We can figure that out later, but i'll drop hints that the money I've made has been done in less than legal ways, and mention your outstanding knack for counterfeiting. Oh and wear something short tonight” he says “More to see means less to hide” he offers when he sees you glaring at him. “ and no scowling at me while we're in there, unless you really want to blow it” he laughs, your hatred for him almost comical at this point.
“What am I supposed to do when you're being insufferable then” you dig, with a wide fake smile.
“Save them up for later, besides it won't be me in there with you, it'll be my character, who you don’t hate.”
7:00pm
You change into a burgundy dress with an open back that falls well above your mid thigh, its length hardly covering you. You make a note not to bend over throughout the night, as you sling on the high heels that cost more than all your shoes combined. You grab the swabs and plastic bags needed to keep them sterile and stuff them into your purse before slipping on your wedding ring, and exiting into the kitchen.
“Alright, how do I look?” you ask, reopening the purse and re organizing the material inside it. When you finally look up you’re taken aback. Peña's usual attire of tight jeans and button up t shirt’s had been replaced by a stunning velvet pastel coloured jacket worn over top, a partially unbuttoned silk dress shirt and black dress pants. He cleaned up well, very well.
Your prolonged look doesn't go unnoticed by Javi, nor does the way your eyes quickly dart back down to your purse when he meets your gaze. He refrains from making a snarky comment knowing it would only piss you off, and that was the last thing he wanted to do before infiltrating a highly dangerous situation.
“Perfect, hermosa” he says, he wasn’t lying about it either. He knew you weren’t really listening to what he was saying, but god if you didn't look perfect tonight. Pretending to be in love with you would be easy enough for him, he hoped you’d be able to maintain the act as well. He watches as you move gracefully around him in heels that were working exceptionally well at emphasizing your... assets. He averts his eyes when you reach up for a bottle of wine knowing that more than you’d want him to see would be out.
“You know I can speak Spanish, right?” you say, a small smile creeping on your lips before quickly disappearing back into the cold facade you were determined to keep up against him.
“Well, I do now” he laughs, slightly embarrassed he got caught out complimenting you sincerely. He slides on his wedding band and escorts you out the door.
“God how do people walk in these for more than 15 mintues” you mutter, your feet already killing you. You almost regretted pushing Peñas arm away when he’d offered it to you earlier. Approaching the house you feel his hand wrap around your waist and you lean into him in an attempt to take some pressure off your feet. He rings the doorbell, lowering his hand as he hears the heels approaching from down the hall. Lifting up the hem of your dress he begins rubbing small circles over your thigh with his thumb. Any other time and you'd have broken his hand without a second though, but it fell well within the contract you’d had him sign detailing exactly where and when he was allowed to touch you.
“Welcome” Helena says as she opens the door in an equally revealing dress. She leads you through the enormous entrance way and into the main foyer, gazing up you see balconies on each level overlooking the large ballroom area. Your amazement at the house was cut short as you turned to see Peña who was currently only paying attention to Helena's fine architecture. If your eye rolls wouldn't give your true feeling for eachother away, his ogling certainly might. You elbow him harshly in ribs causing his hand to inadvertently dig deeper into your skin. His grip releases as Helena's husband enters into the room grabbing her and kissing her deeply for just long enough that both you and Javier feel uncomfortable.
“Welcome” he booms after separating from Helena, grasping Javis hand in his. You can see the veins in his arm bulge, as he clamps down on Peñas hand in a bizarre play for dominance.
“Here” you say offering him the wine, causing him to release his grip “Your home is as stunning as your wife” you smile as he looks down at the bottle reading its label.
“This one’s from a good year! Neither of our wives were even born then, lucky for us” he laughs, winking at you “We’ll have it with dinner.” he continues, pulling Javi into his side and walking him towards the bar.
Helena smiles at you and raises her eyebrows, rolling her eyes at her husband's behaviour. “Come now, alcohol will get us through the night” she states, leading you down the hallway. You knew her suspicions were high, and it wasn't lost on you that she’d likely shared her feelings with her husband, but she was being remarkably kind, which only added to your concern.
“Drink? What’s your poison, Carino?” Carlos demands of you. He was larger than life in both stature and personality, charming but in a terrifying way.
“I do believe he's talking to you love” you joke, smiling up at Javi earning a laugh from Helena.
“Whiskey, neat.” he says, you couldn't tell if Carlos was amused or upset by your disobedience, but the way Peña was currently pulling you discreetly out of Carlos’ reach made you think it was the latter.
“I usually don't ask twice, but for someone so beautiful and so clever, I'll make the exception. Though just his once” Javis grip around you relaxes and you flash Carlos a smile.
“Gin and tonic, if you don't mind”
“Any preference” he asks.
“Dealers choice”, you say, offering him back the control which seems to cut the tension and it's not long before he’s once again laughing with Javi.
“We're glad to have neighbours again '' Carlos says “especially ones who seem so agreeable.” His approval doesn’t relax you. Approval wasn’t trust and you’re well aware that this was just as much an interrogation as it was a dinner party. Carlos takes a seat in one of the upholstered armchairs gesturing for Javi to join him. Helena nods her head towards the couch and you follow her lead. Your eyes are quickly pulled off her when Peña yanks you down onto his lap.
“Darling!” you exclaim thanking the lord you didn't use his real name by mistake. “I could have spilled this very expensive drink all over this very expensive chair, I'm so sorry! I'd say he's not usually like this but...”
“I understand his need to have a beautiful woman in his arms as often as possible, it's why I'm on my fourth wife!” he boasts.
“I'm hoping i'll stick.” Helenea says, holding her drink up as she gazes lovingly over to Carlos, though something behind her eyes told another story. Perhaps you weren't the only one harbouring a secret hatred. “I'm hoping you’ll both stick as well. Neighbours can be problematic, nosy even, our last ones were before they...moved” Helena says from the couch
“Hard to imagine someone tiring from living in the house. It's beautiful, did you build it?” you ask
“Paid for it, but Helena designed it the whole thing, she's very gifted.” Carlos brags.
“I'd have to agree with that,” Javi says, smiling at her which she returns, a flirtation playing on both their faces. Javis hands may be on you but his eyes were on her and if you were picking up on it Carlos certainly had as well. You jump slightly when the server enters the room to inform the group that dinner was ready.
Javi pulls out a chair for you and you sit down placing your hand on his as he takes his seat next to you. The meal was the best you ever had, five delicious courses each one more decadent than the last.
“You don’t take her out to many five star restaurants? It seems as if she's never eaten such a meal!” Carlos excalims. Evidently you were doing a piss poor job at hiding your delight.
“I'm still getting used to the lifestyle if i’m honest. Though I imagine a meal such as this is still rare, even at the most expensive restaurants” you say before Javi can respond for you, the recovery impressing him slightly.
“You should have seen what she was eating before I met her, back when she was a starving artist” Javi says, as you bring a hand up to rub along the velvet jacket covering his broad shoulders.
“The billionaire and the starving artist, now I must know. How did you come to find each other?” Helena asks.
“My art dealer went to New York and brought back one of her paintings, it came with a photo and after seeing it I knew I had to have her, if she’d take me”
“And how did an old man like him convince a sweet young thing like you to marry him?” Carlos asks.
“No convincing needed, not when he sent thousands of my favourite flowers to my studio before showing up at the door himself. Any man willing to put that much time and money towards meeting me deserves a date. At least in my books and he’s continued to prove himself to me ever since.” You gaze up at him lovingly, so convincing that for a moment even he forgets you hate his guts.
“What are they? Her favorite flowers?” Helena probes, earning a grunt from Carlos presumably displeased with his wifes intrusiveness.
“Sunflowers. They're hard to find in New York, especially in the winter, I had to ship them from California.” Your gaze of faux adoration turns quickly to genuine surprise. How had he known what your favourite flowers were? It wasn't outlined in your character profile and you'd certainly never told him.
“I’ve seen the piece, its beautiful, your wifes very talented,”
“You should see her school portfolio, copies of works that were almost exact replicas of the originals. She possesses the talent of a hundred artists before her”
“You flatter me. Copying is a technique used to learn, but it's no measure of true artistry or creativity” you laugh. “When did you see my work, were you in New York?”
“Oh no I'm an art dealer myself, but I have people go to places for me. Your work was passed over my desk a few weeks ago.” Carlos explains.
“Perhaps I could paint you something then I would finally have a truly unbiased critic” You watch as Carlos slowly nods his head, contemplating your offer.
‘You’ll have to see our art collection, we have pieces here from all over the world” Helena says,
“How long have you been in the business?’ you ask, taking Carlos as a man who liked to show off
“longer than you've been alive” he says winking at you.
“Well I can only imagine what pieces you must have , you've proven to have exquisite taste, in all areas of life.” you smile eyes briefly darting to Helena.
“Helena show her the gallery would you, I wish to speak with my friend here in private”
“Will you be joining us later?” Helena asks, causing him to grunts out a yes before pulling Javi into another room to talk about god knows what. She leads you up to the second floor, each step you take causing a sharp pain to shoot down your foot’s arch.
“You get used to the heels, small price to pay for the lifestyle. Walking around in them in the house for a while helps.” she explains.
“Thank you” you say. “Somedays I dont think I'll ever really acclimatize to the lifestyle.” She leads you into a large room, greek style pillars run through the middle while art from around the world lines the walls. If the pieces were real this room was worth millions.
“How does your family feel about you living here? It must be hard them being so far away in England”
“I uhm...I... don’t have any.” You can feel her eyes boring into you assessing the answer you just gave her. “They passed, when I was 19” you continue turning to meet her gaze.
“I'm so sorry. To lose them so young must have been devastating, but I don't need to tell you that, do I” she says, shaking her head. You nod swallowing hard gazing back to the paintings. “Lucky he found you I suppose, and such a handsome man at that. Many billionaires are.... not.”
“Lucky for us both then” you say, moving along the wall “these painting are beautiful, I envy you being surrounded by such formidable pieces, and only a walk away”
“Yes'' she says, as if she doesn't care. She's watching you intently, trying to suss out where your loyalties lied, your lack of descriptive fondness for your husband suddenly seemed like a poor choice on your part. Before she can ask another question you hear Carlos yell out for her, the noise startling you both, so much so that her hand clamps down on your wrist.
“Duty calls” she says, composing herself and relaxing her grip on you.
“Should I come with you?” you ask, playing into the deer in headlights trope which seemed to have an effect on Helena.
“No, he asked for just me. I don't like to disobey him, he's not a kind man when not listened to.”
“Are you safe here” you ask.
“As long as I don’t cause trouble I should be.” she affirms.
“Well, you're welcome at ours, at any time. If anything happens, even if it doesn't you can stay with us. Heavens knows we have the room.” you say sincerely, the concern coming from you, not your character. Helana nods offering you a soft smile squeezing your hand before leaving the room.
“See how obedient she is, how compliant, she's perfect, don’t you think!” Carlos says
“Hard to argue with that,” Javi responds, giving her a once over.
“And beautiful yes, c'mon you are married not dead” he prompts when Javi doesn't respond immediately
“Very much so” he says, smiling at Helena before turning to Carlos who was intent on showing off his wife in the most demeaning way possible.
“Was there something you needed love?” Helena asked. She was used to her husbands showing her off to other men, but she was growing tired of it. She was involved in her husband's work, primarily in the organization making sure everything ran smoothly, she knew if it didn't she would inevitably be to blame. She valued her life, so she learnt fast, adapted like a pro. Four years later and her husband hadn’t offed her yet. She was a mastermind in a career she had been inadvertently forced into, but a mastermind nonetheless. To her husband she was nothing more than a trophy, but better to be that than a punching bag.
“A word in private” he says, gesturing to her with a come hither motion.
“Your wifes in the art room, up the stair, down the hall to the left, take the drink with you, we won't be a moment” He says, his eyes telling Javi to vacate the room. He lets out a grumble as he closes the door behind him. He shakes his head, swirling the whiskey as he walks towards the gallery. He’d fumbled tonight by not making it clear that he only had eyes for his wife, a hard task considering Helena, who he realized too late was likely meant to see if his gaze could be easily swayed. Which it had. All thoughts about any other woman cease to exist when he walks into the gallery and sees you bent over swabbing a painting. Something about watching you in your element had always been mesmerizing to him. It’s why he was always dropping off files for you, the task could easily be outsourced, but he enjoyed watching you maneuver with ease around the various machines.
“You should be more careful querida,” he says, chuckling as you jump back.
“Watch the door, would you? I've got two more to do” he leans back against the frame, one eye on the door, one eye on you watching as you meticulously swab the remaining paintings. “All good, you don’t think they keep cameras in here?” you ask, closing up your purse.
“No. Cameras are easy to hack.” he says nonchalantly, as he comes over to you stopping at your side looking up at the painting, suddenly understanding people's fascination with art. You grab the drink from his hand and take a sip placing it back down on the empty pedestal propping yourself up along with it when you hear footsteps approaching.
“Come here” you demand, and he does, eyes suddenly darker than before. He stops a few inches in front of you. “Closer” you beckon, wrapping your legs around him and pulling him into you. You drape your arms around his shoulder extending your neck allowing his mouth to graze lightly over the skin just in time for Helena and Carlos to witness it. You push him off you in pretend shock.
“Please, don’t stop on our account” Carlos laughs
“I'm sorry, god these pieces must be worth thousands and here I am sitting on one” you say hoping the act wasn’t too transparent.
“Don’t apologize, a work of art belongs on a pedestal” Carlos says, the complementing causing Javis jaw to noticeably clench. He was a better actor than you gave him credit for, maybe they would buy this relationship after all.
“We should probably be going, once she starts it's hard to get her to stop,” Javi says.
“So that’s how she trapped you” the husband responds, the entire exchange causing you to cringe internally. You hop down off the stool as Javi finishes the whiskey offering the glass to Helena who takes it before leading you towards the front door.
“We must do this again soon,” she says settling into Carlos’ arm
“Perhaps at ours next time?” You offer
“A generous offer, but we prefer to entertain.” He says
“Then I look forward to seeing you soon, especially if another meal like that is in store” As you exit the mansion Javi makes sure his hand is visibly running over your body, but you slap it away the second you can.
“Ouch” he says, shaking out the hand, the rings on your fingers leaving a particular sting on his skin.
“Suck it up” you respond, having had enough of him for the night.
“Cut the shit, your attitude problem is going to get us killed” he whispers through gritted teeth.
“I don’t have an attitude problem. I just have a problem with you” You say, turning to face him and prodding a finger into his chest “ and don’t act like you ogling his wife was helping our case either. Ya I slipped up tonight, but so did you, so shoulder some of the blame you’re throwing my way.”
“Jealousy’s a nice colour on you” he laughs, knowing how riled up it would get you.
“Ha!” you fake laugh “ because it's jealousy and not the fact that your inability to keep it in your pants is going to get me killed.” You exclaim as you enter the kitchen grabbing down a glass and chugging some water before going into the art room where you were storing the testing kits.
You? Jealous? Of what exactly. What did he think he had to offer that would make you want or need to be the subject of his attention. Attention he gave to anything that walked or batted its eyelashes at him. Jesus he was insufferable, you hated that he had this notion that your anger was based on jealousy and not multiple interactions where he'd failed to impress you. Even if you had come off as jealous it was all a part of the act. He had been acting jealous throughout the night, did he think you weren't competent enough to do the same? You had three degrees for fucks sake, you deserve some credit. “Fucking asshole” you mutter, the manifestation of the words helping you to calm down enough to dip the q tips in the liquid, sure enough, they came back positive the paintings had been near drugs, you’d tell Peña about that later. You see the light on in the bedroom as you exit the “art room” and you head towards it determined to get one last punch in before going to bed.
Javier had just settled into the enormous bed he had the luxury of having all to himself, moments away from flicking the light switch when he notices your figure in the door frame.
“Penny for your thoughts?” he asks
“I think he's abusive, the husband you were getting along with so nicely” you spit out, the venom intended to question his character in a hurtful way, but it doesn't seem to phase him.
“It's the job to get friendly with the monsters, doesn't mean I like them” he reasons
“I told her she could come here if anything happened, so we’ll have to hide this stuff a bit better” you remark, turning your failed attempt to get one last dig in, into a valid reason for starting up a conversation.
“Guess you'll have to stop sleeping on the couch then” he smirks. Check mate. Your eyes bore into the bed you had just talked yourself into sharing with Javier Peña.
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Safe Haven | Andrew DeLuca
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Requested by anon: Can you do a fic where you’re in a abusive relationship and you go to your best friend andrew deluca for help? lots of angst and fluff pls. 💘
Word count: 1,7k
Warning: mentions of abusive relationship, physical injuried, heartbreak, blood, swearing, drinking
Note: not my gif! 
Also, this is before all the shit went down between Andrew and Alex! Enjoy x
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‘All you can do is bitch around. It’s annoying as hell, so why don’t you stop being a little bitch and get me another beer!’ Jax, your boyfriend yelled at you. It was becoming a routine. You working your ass of to pay rent and him just laying on the couch all day and drinking. But it hadn’t always been like that, though.
You had come home from another late shift at the pub you worked to see him hanging in the living room with a few mates of his. You knew the majority of the guys he hung out with, but not all of them. One specific guys got your attention, because he had been at the pub a few days prior. He was a complete dick to you, so you refused to serve him drinks for the rest of the night. Your boss agreed with you, so they had kicked him out. Little did you that he knew Jax. He twisted the story and told him you were all over him, so Jax snapped and yelled at you. It started with just squeezing your arm really tightly. Soon after that came slapping you and now it had gone completely out of control. There was something about him that completely changed. He liked the power he had over you and started to manipulate you.
‘Oh fuck off Jax! Get it yourself. I’m done with your bullshit,’ you said as you got up from the couch. Wrong move. Once you stepped in the kitchen, he went crazy. 
At first he pushed you against the table. You hit the corner with your ribs and you fell to the ground. You tried to get up, but he kicked you right where you’d hit the table. You cried out in pain as you felt something crack. It was getting harder to breath and you knew you had broken at least one of your ribs. Jax stormed towards you and lifted you off the ground and into the nearest wall. Your body was shaking in fear and pain, but he didn’t care. Tears were flowing down your cheeks and you closed your eyes, hoping this would be over soon. He shoved you against the wall with his whole body and pushed his arm against your throat. You clawed at his arms and in his face, but he wouldn’t budge. He yelled in your face and you felt yourself getting light headed. Moving your hands to your left, you felt one of the empty beer bottles and smacked it as hard as you could against his head. The glass flew everywhere and you felt one of the pieces cut your cheek. He stumbled back and fell to the floor. You stood there in shock trying to catch your breath. You checked his pulse and thanked God he was still alive. 
Figuring you shouldn’t be home when he would wake up, you grabbed your purse, your phone and your keys and drove off. You were going to the hospital where you were sure you would find your best friend, Andrew. You didn’t call at first, because you knew he would be there. The man basically lived in that hospital. When you arrived, you tried to clean yourself up a little bit. In the little mirror you had in your purse, you saw your reflexion. It didn’t look like you. 
Your face was dull and grey. The bags under your eyes had almost become permanent. It looked like your hair was exploded and a bird had formed a nest. You couldn’t see your body, but you could feel there was so much wrong with it. You tried your best to hide the bags under your eyes with some make-up and wiped away the blood on your cheek. You practiced your best fake smile in the mirror and carefully got out of the car. You couldn’t stand up completely straight because of your ribs, but you tried your best to hide it.
When you got inside the hospital you went up to one of the nurses behind the desk.
‘Hi, is Andrew DeLuca present?’ you asked her. She smiled at you and typed something on her computer.
‘Is he a patient?’ she asked, frowning at something on her screen. You shook your head and you winced as a shot of pain came from your ribs.
‘No, he’s a doctor. A surgeon,’ you replied. You waited for her answer, but before she could answer you heard someone call you. You carefully turned around and saw Arizona walking towards you. You’d known her since the day Andrew moved in with her.
‘Arizona, how are you?’ you asked her as she engulfed you in a hug. She held you a little too tight, because another wave of pain hit you and you cried out.
‘Oh my god, Y/N, are you okay?’ she quickly asked. You held the desk you were still standing next to and wrapped your other arm around your ribs.
‘Yeah, I’m fine. Ran into a table today. My ribs just hurt a little,’ you lied. She didn’t seem to believe you, but continued talking to you.
‘Wanna get a coffee?’ she asked. You smiled.
‘Sure! I just need visit Andrew,’ you frowned as a wave of dizziness hit you and you stumbled back. Your head was starting to pound. By slamming into the wall, you must’ve hurt your head too. ‘Just need to visit Andrew first,’ you slurred.
‘Okay, Y/N, I’m going to page someone for you okay. I need you to sit down for a minute. You’re not okay and you’re bleeding. Stay still, you’re okay,’ she hurried. You could see her reaching for her pager, but then your vision stared to get blurry and your limbs gave out. You fell to the floor and she yelled at one of the nurses to page Andrew.
‘What’s going on here?’ you heard a man ask. You recognized the voice, but couldn’t see who it was.
‘Y/N, Andrew’s best friend,’ you heard Arizona speak.
‘Oh my god, what happened?’ he quickly checked your pulse and shone a light in your eyes. It was Alex, you could tell. A warm liquid dripped down your nose.
‘We need to get help now! Stretcher!’ you heard Alex yell. Soon enough you were lifted onto the bed and got raced down the hall.
‘Okay, Y/N I need you to stay awake okay. Can you do that for me?,’ Arizona held your hand tightly as you made your way to the ER. You tried to nod your head, but suddenly your vision turned completely black and you slipped into unconciousness.
-
‘I swear to god I’ll mess him up! How could he have done that to her?!’ Andrew yelled. ‘Why didn’t she tell me?’ His voice suddenly cracked.
‘A lot of people in these kind of relationships don’t tell people, Andrew. You know how she is. Maybe she just thought it would blow over. I’m sure she wanted to tell you,’ Arizona replied.
You wanted to open your eyes, but you were too scared. You knew you hurt Andrew by not telling him, but Arizona was right. You really hoped it would just blow over.
‘I know you’re awake, idiot. I can see it on the monitor,’ you heard Andrew say. You sighed and slowly opened your eyes. Andrew was sitting next to you, Arizona stood at the end of your bed and Alex was on the other side of you.
‘We’ll give you two some space,’ Alex said. He squeezed your hand and Arizona softly smiled at you before they left. When the door closed an uncomfortable silence arose. Andrew was breathing quickly and you tried your best to come up with an explanation.
‘I wanted to tell you. That’s why I came here. I wanted to tell you sooner, I really did, but I didn’t want you to get involved. I knew you wouldn’t just let it go and Arizona was right; I thought it would blow over. I’m sorry,’ you said, fidgeting with your fingers. His head snapped up and you were scared he would yell at you, but he did the complete opposite. He stood up and sat on the bed. He took you hands in his and looked in your eyes.
‘I don’t ever want you apologizing for that asshole again, you hear me. Nothing he ever did was your fault. How long has this been going on, pumpkin?’ he asked. He always called you that. Ever since you were little. At first you hated it, but now you adored it.
‘Since a few days after your birthday..’ you mumbled. His eyes widened in shock.
‘My birthday?! Pumpkin, that was seven months ago..’ he trailed off. You could feel the burning sensation in the back of your eyes and your bottom lip quivered. ‘Please tell me you called the cops..’
You couldn’t keep it in anymore, so you let the tears flow freely down your cheeks while you sobbed in your hands. You were close to having a panic attack, but Andrew noticed and he held you close to his chest.
‘You’re okay pumpkin.. I got you. You don’t have to be afraid anymore. I’m here now. He’s gone,’ he sushed you softly and rocked you back and forth. After ten minutes you calmed down and he massaged your head a little. That always made you sleepy and Andrew knew that. You had a history of always choosing the wrong guys, so it was often the case that you stood on Andrew’s porch with tears streaming down your face. He knew how to calm you down within minutes.
‘Where is he now?’ he softly asked, not wanting to upset you again.
‘At home,’ you sniffed, ‘I don’t know if he’s awake yet though. I smacked him with a beer bottle.’
You felt Andrew chuckle next to you and he pulled back from your embrace.
‘That’s my girl.’ He kissed the top of your head.
‘Thank you, Andrew, for everything. I love you,’ you whispered. He chuckled again and took a deep breath.
‘I love you too, pumpkin.’ 
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elizabeethan · 3 years
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Walk With Me (I Think We’ll Find A Way)- Chapter 7/8
Killian Jones travels across realms to find Emma and Henry in New York after receiving an anonymous message about a new curse. When he finally tracks her down, he makes a bold move and greets her at her front door, but before he can even attempt to convince her to come back to Storybrooke with him, he’s met with a surprise that will change his life.
Season 3B AU
Prologue, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6
Read on Ao3
It’s here friends :) One chapter to go!!
The most beautiful header on the planet was made by @xhookswenchx, in case you were wondering
Tagging: @courtorderedcake @kmomof4 @stahlop @klynn-stormz @laschatzi @emelizabeth88 @lfh1226-linda @kday426 @profdanglaisstuff @elisethewritingbeast @timeless-love-story @captain-emmajones @gingerpolyglot @ebcaver @ilovemesomekillianjones @teamhook @superchocovian @itsfabianadocarmo @tiganasummertree @gingerchangeling @jrob64 @onceratheart18 @xhookswenchx @winterbaby89​ @swampmedusa​ @ultraluckycatnd @dancingnancyy @love-with-you-i-have-everything @shireness-says​ @snowbellewells​ @hollyethecurious​ @ouatpost​
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“Because I commanded you not to.”
The words tore a hole through Emma’s chest. Her foolish son somehow found his way to the woods and was standing off to the side with the Dark One’s dagger, holding it in front of himself and facing it towards Gold.
“Henry,” Neal starts, and she wants to scream at him to run, get out of here! but she can’t. Her brain has stopped working and her lips won't move. She feels Killian squeezing her arm but she can’t turn away from her child putting himself between her and the fucking Dark One.
“Get out of here, Henry,” Gold says.
“We’re not going anywhere, Rumple.”
Belle materializes behind Henry and Emma wants to explode. Where the hell is Corrine, if the two of them are here?!
“Belle, what are you doing?”
“You know why I’m here, Rumple. I’m not letting you steal this town’s memories just because you think it would bring me back to you.”
“No, no. That's not what I'm doing. I’m doing this for my son.”
She shakes her head and steps in front of Henry, who’s still wielding the dagger threateningly. He refuses to turn around towards Emma, which means she’s unable to reach out and grab for him. She’s worried that if she moves from this spot, Neal just might kill her.
“I left you, in the Enchanted Forest. I didn’t remember doing it, but I did it. And now you're here, doing the exact thing that I left you for doing!”
“Belle,” Neal tries, but she shoots him a threatening look.
“What you’re doing is selfish and dangerous. Neal, Emma’s clearly made her choice, and you need to accept that. If you truly love her like you say you do, you’d accept that.”
“I’m doing this for her; for us!”
“You’re endangering your son and her daughter. That’s not love, Neal. I should’ve seen a long time ago that wanting to control and manipulate someone isn’t the same as loving someone.”
“You’ve got it all wrong, Belle!” Gold tries.
“I can’t believe I was wrong about you all this time, Rumple. Your heart really is rotten, isn’t it?” He doesn't have a chance to answer. “Henry, the dagger, if you please,” she says, taking it from him as Emma breathes a sigh of relief. “Rumple, I want you to transport Neal to a cell in the sheriff’s station, and then you’re going to take us to the town line. We need to be alone for what comes next.”
They disappear in a cloud of red smoke. Emma’s hesitant to believe that this is all over, but the three of them are gone and Henry is standing safe and dagger-less a few feet away from her. “Henry,” she says, hating the worry laced through her tone.
“Mom,” he calls with a smile as he runs for her, throwing himself into her waiting arms.
“What the hell were you thinking?! You could’ve been seriously hurt! Where’s your sister?”
“With grandma—”
“Henry,” Regina interrupts. Emma sighs, wanting nothing more than to continue to hug her son but accepting the fact that her life isn’t that simple. He turns towards her voice and his face is alight once again.
“Mom!” he calls, running towards her for an emotional reunion.
Rather than watch the two of them together, she turns towards Killian and smiles. He looks down to her and takes her hand in his, squeezing gently.
“Well, Swan, I do believe—”
“We’ve gotta go,” David calls as he tucks his phone into his back pocket. “Robin, can you make sure Neal is where he’s supposed to be? Emma, you’ve gotta come with me. Mary Margaret just went to the hospital and had to bring Corrine with her.”
“The baby?” she asks, pulling Killian along with her toward her father’s truck.
“He or she is on their way.”
~~~~
Henry rides to the hospital with Regina in Gold’s car. Emma’s honestly a bit surprised that Regina is even bothering coming to the hospital, until she pulls up to the doors, drops Henry off, and pulls away again. Typical.
“Your mom didn’t want to come in?” Emma asks him, and he shrugs.
“Something about family bonding or whatever. It’s okay.”
They walk into the lobby and see Corrine sitting happily with Ruby, Tink on the other side of the coffee table and rolling a small ball towards her as she squeals with laughter. She hears Ruby gasp who’s that? before Corrine whips around and starts running towards her parents and brother as fast as her fat little legs can carry her.
“Hello, my love,” Killian says as he scoops her up, making a grunt as if his body is protesting. What a dad.
“Hi,” she says once she’s up. “Ball.” She holds up the small green ball in Killian’s face, making him back away with a laugh.
“You’re playing ball with Ruby? And…” he turns, cocking his head, “Tink.”
“Hi, Hook.”
“Curse is broken,” Ruby says by way of explanation. “Turns out you two weren’t the only ones getting it on after Neverland.”
“Ah,” he says with a blush, and Emma’s smiling until she hears Henry speak up.
“What does that mean?”
Ruby shoots them all a wolfish grin.
Prince Oliver Leopold is born mere hours after they arrived at the hospital; a healthy, happy boy who somewhat resembles his niece and nephew but has his mother’s bright green eyes.
Emma holds her baby brother and swoons at his plump lips and swollen eyes and rosy cheeks and before she knows it, she has baby fever, dammit. It’s worse when Killian takes the baby from her at David’s insistence and starts cooing. Captain Hook is cooing at a newborn.
Corrine won’t stop saying baby. It’s so adorable. She wants to hold her new uncle (Emma won’t ever get used to that), but refuses any help and would definitely forget to support his head, so a tantrum ensues, naturally. Killian hands the baby back to his mother and takes Corrine out to the hall, because apparently he’s already become an expert parent and handles tantrums flawlessly.
When she leaves the room a few minutes later to check on things, she finds them in the waiting room, Corrine on Killian’s lap with her thumb shoved in her mouth while he holds his phone in front of her. Emma rolls her eyes.
“We should probably try something aside from handing her a phone whenever she freaks out,” she reasons to him with a smile.
“Probably, but this always works so well. Plus, it’s rather catchy.”
When she gets closer, she sees that he’s playing a One Direction music video. Corrine is so fully engrossed that she’s barely dancing, just staring into the screen and bopping her free fist up and down slightly. “You're whipped,” she says to him with a snort as he smiles softly.
“Not since I was a lad.” Shit, she thinks, her face dropping. Poor choice of words.
“I’m sorry,” she says hesitantly. “I didn’t think before I said that, I’m sorry.”
“It’s alright, love,” he says with the same smile.
“Yuh you, yuh you momma,” Corrine says with a cheeky grin shot Emma’s way.
“I love you, too,” she returns.
“Yuh you, duddy.”
He leans down to her and kisses her cheek tenderly, chuckling lightly. “I love you, too, darling.”
She tries to say darling but it doesn’t come out quite right as she struggles with her Ls. It’s cute either way, and she’s still the smartest baby around.
“I think this one is overdue for a nap. Care to tag along?” she asks as Corrine reaches up for her and she scoops her up. They’ve barely eaten or slept today, so she’s surprised Corrine is even still functioning.
“Sure.” Killian stands, locking his phone and tucking it into the back pocket of his jeans like a real twenty first century man.
~~~~
Henry asks to go to the sheriff’s station on their way back to Granny’s. Emma isn’t sure what he’s going to say to his father, but she assumes he’s about to get an earful from a rightfully angry thirteen-year-old.
Henry gained his memories back, but his old, cursed ones remained. This means that, while he finally remembers who he really is, he also remembers the story Emma gave him about his father. The reason he was abandoned is clear in his head, along with the betrayal that comes with almost having his memories wiped again and his sister removed from his life at the hands of the same man.
Safe to say, Henry is pissed.
Killian offers to go into the station with him and he accepts, as long as Killian promises not to listen in. Emma’s heart is racing the entire time they’re gone, but Corrine’s soft snores and gentle kicks to the seat in front of her keep her mind somewhat at ease for the ten minutes that they’re inside.
When they emerge from the building, she notes that they're both looking down as they walk to the car with somber looks on their faces. She wants to ask what they talked about, but she knows Henry would rather not talk about it, so when they get into the car, she drives towards the inn silently.
Henry decides to take a nap as well, so Emma puts Corrine in her crib and shoots him a gentle smile before grabbing the monitor and leaving the room to cross the hall towards Killian’s door.
“Hi,” he says as she enters, glancing up from the book he was reading on his bed.
“Hey.”
“Alright?” she shrugs, contemplatively standing before him before crossing the room and taking a seat on the other side of the bed. He closes his book and crosses his ankles before shifting so that he can face her.
“Weird day.”
“I’ll say,” he chuckles. “Would you like to lie down, Swan?”
She shrugs again. “I would, but I'm scared to go to sleep. We still haven’t seen Belle, so we don't know what happened to Gold.”
“Aye,” he agrees with a sigh. “But I think I trust her to make the right decision in that regard.”
“She’s taken him back countless times before, though.”
“It’s a complicated relationship, love. She said something about having left him when they were in the Enchanted Forest, and she’s obviously still angry.”
“Yeah.” She sighs deeply, sinking a bit further into the mattress as he places his arm on a pillow behind her back.
“Lie down, love. You're exhausted; I’ll stay up and make sure nothing goes awry.”
She sticks her lips out in a pout of contemplation, but the heat of his arm behind her neck is tempting along with the memory of his body shaped around hers during the night. “You’ll stay here the entire time? Unless Corrine wakes up?”
“Promise.” She nods at him, scooting herself down so that she’s lying with her head on his chest and her arm slung across his waist. She takes a moment before she hitches her ankle up and over his own, breathing heavily as she feels her body begin to relax. “Swan?” he says softly.
“Hmm?”
“Can you tell me what Baelfire did to you? What were your parents talking about?”
She tenses in his arms, squeezing her fist around his shirt until her knuckles are white. “He, uh, he left me. He betrayed me. Before we were together, he stole some watches and hid them, and then I went to go get them because he had wanted posters floating around. He went to fence the watches and when I met him afterwards, the police picked me up. He had given me a watch as a gift, and that was all the evidence they needed. Turns out he was the one who called the cops.”
“Bloody hell.” His hand runs along her spine with a comforting pressure as she relives one of her worst moments.
“Turns out August told him I was destined to be the Savior and he had to leave me, but the decision to call the cops was all him. So I went to jail for eleven months and that’s where I had Henry.”
“I’m sorry, Swan. That’s awful.” His voice is soft as it rumbles through the soft afternoon light in the room
“I’ve had a lot of time to get past it,” she shrugs
He nods against her hair and she revels in the gentle squeeze he gives her, the compression against her chest soothing her nerves.
“Swan,” he says again, and she lets out a breathy chuckle.
“Yeah?”
“What does whipped mean, in that context?”
She wants to groan, still disgusted with herself for even saying it, but she answers anyway. “It means she has you wrapped around her tiny little finger. I’m pretty sure she could convince you to do anything for her without so much as blinking.”
He laughs. “You’re probably right.”
They’re quiet for a few minutes, and she thinks she might fall asleep, but something stops her and makes her speak.
“She loves you so much,” she says after a few moments.
“Aye, I love her as well.”
“She needs you in her life, you know.”
He intakes a breath and she thinks she may feel the ghost of his lips pressing into her hair. “I need her, too,” he says softly.
She nods her head against his chest and takes in the scent of leather and sea and rum. He may have traded in his leather slacks for jeans, but he still smells the same, and she’s relieved. “That’s why… that’s why we’re staying here.”
She feels his body freeze as his arm tightens around her and his breath hitches in his throat. “Aye?”
“Mhmm. After everything, I just… I want to be close to my family. I almost lost them again today, even though a part of me still doesn't believe that Neal would do that, but… still.”
“I have trouble believing it myself.”
“Yeah. But Corrine likes it here. Henry obviously does too, and as much as it pains me to say, his mother is here. And... you're here.”
He rolls them over so that she’s on her side and he’s facing her before he takes his hand and runs it along her cheek gently. “I would've gone with her. With you.”
“I would've let you. But I'd rather stay put.”
He hums out a soft laugh, one that says I can’t believe this is happening, then touches his index finger along her brow and down the side of her face before he reaches his hand behind her head and pulls the two of them together in a soft, warm kiss.
She kisses him back instantaneously, swiping her tongue out against his soft lips as a sigh escapes her mouth. She feels so relaxed in his arms, and the feeling of him gently massaging her lips with his own and his fingers stroking against her scalp with gentle pressure is lulling her back into the sense of calm that she’s been missing. She thinks she could get really turned on if she lets herself, but for now, the chaste, gentle kisses relax her into a state of bliss.
She pulls away from the unexpected kiss after a few moments and sighs through her nose, pressing their foreheads together and biting her bottom lip. “I’m glad you have your heart back,” she says after a moment. “It probably wouldn't have been very fun kissing a heartless Killian.”
“I think I still would have had fun kissing you even without a heart.”
She hums out a laugh. “Yeah, but this is much better. Are you okay? After the whole heart thing?”
“Aye, I’ve been through dire straits before, nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“Right,” she laughs before pressing her body close to his and snuggling her head into his chest. “Can you tell me what happened?”
He clears his throat. “Neal must've knocked me out. Or it was the Crocodile, I'm not sure. But I woke up in the cabin surrounded by potions and spells and other nefarious things and knew something was wrong.”
“That’s where they were making the memory potion.”
“Aye,” he confirms. “Neal told me his plan, then he sent me back to the loft for dinner without my heart so that he could control me. He wanted to see me suffer and lose everything I hold dear. I believe the Dark One must've enchanted his hand somehow and that’s how he was able to control me.”
“What a bastard. I can't wrap my head about it.” He hums softly in agreement. “What was it like? Not having it, I mean.”
He’s still and quiet as he takes in a breath, then answers, “it’s like I was dead. I was so numb and empty, I couldn’t feel anything but pain and fear. But when you put it back, love, I’ve never felt better.”
“I’m sorry,” she whispers. Picturing the way he must have felt causes Emma near-physical pain “That sounds awful.”
He changes the subject away from his suffering easily. “May I ask you something else?” she nods against him. “When did you know? That it wasn’t me?”
She shrugs, the painful memories of last night flooding back into her mind. “Before you even got there I knew something was wrong. Henry said you left him alone at Gold’s and I knew you wouldn’t do that. And during dinner, Corrine refused to even look at you because she’s a smart baby and she even knew something wasn’t right. But it was really clear after dinner when you said you were leaving.” She nearly chokes on the words as they leave her lips.
“You have to know how hard I tried to not say it.”
She nods, thinking back to the tears in his eyes and the tight grip he had on her wrist. “I do know, I saw it. You were fighting him.”
“Aye, I was,” he whispers.
“You were doing it for your family.”
His grip on her tightens still and he presses another kiss to the crown of her head before he says, “that I was, love.”
~~~~
Despite no longer living in a magical forest over which he reigns as king, Emma’s father chooses to have a small ceremony to celebrate the birth of his son. As strange as it is to be 30 years older than her brother, and for his niece and nephew to be older than him, Emma happily attends the small gathering hosted at Granny’s once everyone has finally woken up from their naps. Their sleep schedules are going to be completely messed up for the rest of the week, but that’s something she’ll just have to deal with.
When Corrine, Henry, Killian, and Emma finally find their way down to the diner, the party is in full swing. Emma doesn’t miss Killian playfully swiping a donut from Ruby’s tray, giving a little piece to Corrine and finishing the rest himself. She could scold him for feeding her sweets before dinner, but seeing them together and seeing her back to her normal playful self with him makes her heart swell.
She catches Belle at the counter and hops into a stool beside her. “Thanks for your help today.”
“Oh, of course.”
“What, uh,” she starts again, contemplating whether or not it’s logical to start this conversation. “What happened to Gold?”
She purses her lips and looks down. “I sent him over the town line. He won't be back.”
“I’m sorry.” No matter how much she can’t stand Gold, she couldn’t imagine being in Belle’s position; loving someone so evil and having to make such a hard choice.
“Don’t be. I did leave him, you know, in the Enchanted Forest. He started working with Neal and… I was just unhappy with the changes I was seeing with him. He was starting to show his true self. So I left, and he seemed to just snap. I knew they were going to do something drastic when I found out that Neal spoke with your parents, so that’s when I stole the memory potion and sent that message to Killian.”
Emma draws her brows close together as she spins in the stool to face Belle. “Wait, you sent the message?”
“Yeah, you didn’t know?”
Emma shakes her head; the information is making more and more sense the more she learns. “Thank you. Seriously, thank you. You probably saved everyone in Storybrooke. You definitely saved my family.”
She smiles up at Emma. “It was the right thing to do,” she says, before she becomes distracted by whomever has just entered the diner. When Emma turns, she sees Robin’s friend Will waving at her and making his way towards them. She excuses herself when he kisses Belle’s temple softly and wiggles his eyebrows at Emma.
When she gets to the booth that Henry’s sitting at, she takes a seat enthusiastically and bumps his shoulder with his, making a comment about his new uncle to which he barely responds.
“I’m sorry, kid. I know this sucks,” she says after a moment of pointless small talk.
“Yeah.”
“You spent two years thinking your life was one thing and now it’s something completely different.”
He nods. He’s silent for a few moments and she sits with him, knowing that he may need time to ponder through his thoughts. “Why did he do it?” he finally asks.
She sighs and puts an arm around him. “I don't really know, Henry. Your dad… something happened to him and he just couldn’t handle not having his family with him.”
“We weren’t ever a family, though, not really. I mean, sure, we hung out, but it wasn’t anything like what you and I have, or even what me and Regina have.” She nods. “It was only a few months that I knew him. And he left you in jail.”
“I know. I’m sorry that you had to see your dad like that.” He shrugs. “You know I wouldn’t have let anything happen to you, right?”
With a nod, he says, “I know. That’s not what I'm worried about.”
“Can I ask you something?” He nods. “What made you come to the woods? What happened with you and Belle that made you do that?”
He shrugs again. “I don't know, really. We were messing around at Granny’s and I was talking about how mad I was, and that I wanted to just take the dagger and give both of them a piece of my mind. Then Belle said ‘if only we had the dagger,’ and I told her we did have it. And she said we had to go and put an end to this. You guys probably should have just brought it with you.”
Emma nods in response, laughing lightly at his logic. She was expecting some type of grand revelation between the two of them, but the reality was much more simply: Belle knew that Neal and Gold were up to no good, and she decided that she had the power to put a stop to it. “You’re right, we should have. Luckily, we had you to save our butts.”
“My dad…” he starts, ignoring her lightheartedness. “I just can't believe he would do something like this.”
She makes a bold move and says, “is that what you told him? When you went to the sheriff’s station?”
Henry chuckles sadly and rolls his eyes. “You mean Killian didn’t tell you?”
She bumps his shoulder again and responds, “I don’t think he would even if I begged. He respects you too much.”
He nods back at her, still looking down at his glass of water and plate of cake. “I guess I told him that. I told him I was done with him. I said he could’ve had a chance but he ruined it by doing this.” Emma nods softly. As much as it hurts to hear her son say these things about his father, a part of her must admit that she’s relieved to hear that he’s made this decision. She isn’t exactly psyched at the concept of giving Neal visitation rights after this. “I told him he’s a selfish dick for trying to keep my mom away from the guy she loves.”
She freezes at that, and not because her kid is using the unsavory language that he probably learned from her. Henry has always been a smart, perceptive kid, but has he always been this perceptive? To the point where he knows she loves Killian before she does? “Henry...” she tries to speak but can’t.
“It’s okay mom. Maybe two years ago I would’ve wanted you to be with my dad, but… I don’t know. Hook has only been here for a few weeks and he’s been more of a dad to me than Neal ever has.”
~~~~
Corrine is put to bed by her father several hours later after a tantrum over not being able to put her hand in a bowl of hot soup. She wanted to grab the floating crackers as Tink dropped them into the dish, and each time Killian stopped her hand she screamed no at him. At one point, it started to get out of hand and Emma called, “Corrine Alice Swan, you get your hand away from that bowl, right now,” as if the child could understand full sentences. She understood the tone, though, and boy, did she respond with a vengeance.
Killian took her upstairs to her crib once she started screaming so loudly that Emma’s sure the entire town heard. Now that she can’t hear the blood curdling screech anymore, she’s about 98% certain that Killian is in the bedroom playing a One Direction music video, but that’s alright. The two of them dancing along together is quite possibly the cutest thing she’s ever seen, so she thinks she’ll let it slide as she ascends the stairs and opens the door slowly.
What she’s met with is not a pair of One Direction fans, but rather, a swaying Killian holding a tearful but relatively calm Corrine as he hums lowly in her ear and rubs up and down along her back. Emma swoons, again overtaken by the image of dad-Killian in all his glory.
He’s only known his daughter for about five weeks, but in that time they’ve become so close. Each day, Corrine learns more and more as she explores her world, and Killian is always trying to help her along by teaching her new words and phrases. He’s a natural with her, especially at this age, and the more of it Emma sees, the more she wants.
“It’s time for sleep, my darling. Mummy and daddy will be here when you wake,” he whispers softly into her hair, and when Emma looks again, she sees Corrine’s thumb hanging out of her mouth and her face squished into his shoulder. He turns around and catches Emma’s eye, blushing fiercely as he bends to place the baby in her crib. Once she’s settled, he rubs a finger along her sweet face to remove one final tear and backs away before making his way towards the door and following Emma out.
Emma doesn’t miss the promise he makes his sleeping child to be here when she wakes up; he’s still reeling from almost losing her, and it breaks her heart.
“She didn’t need the phone, huh?” she jokes as they make their way down the stairs.
He laughs lightly in response and says, “I believe she was too tired for that. It’ll be difficult to get her back on schedule, I’d say.”
When they get back into the diner, Killian disperses into the crowd and Emma sees Henry talking to Regina. She’s happy that he’s rebuilding his relationship with her, she really is, but she’s also having trouble getting past their history. Try as she might, she can’t unsee that small child waiting on her doorstep begging for help defeating his Evil Queen mother.
Regina stands from the booth when Emma makes herself visible and walks over to her, clearing her throat and brushing down her blouse before she speaks. “Emma, I was thinking it might be good for Henry to spend the night at my house tonight. He’s open to it, but said we had to check with you,” she says bitterly.
Emma raises her brows, glancing back at Henry, who gives her a smile. “He is?”
“Yes,” she responds sharply, as if Emma has offended her. “He has his own room, why should he stay here?”
Emma lets out an exasperated huff but nods her head. As much as her delivery absolutely sucked, Regina has a point. Perhaps she should start thinking of a permanent living arrangement herself. “Okay, if he wants to, then that’s fine.”
Regina looks chuffed as she says, “good,” with the soft hint of a smile before heading back to the booth to collect Henry.
With both kids gone or asleep, Emma suddenly finds herself free of her motherly duties for at least the next few hours, and so decides to follow Killian to the patio with two tumblrs of rum, neat.
“So, Gold’s gone,” she says once she’s sitting next to him, and he tips his glass to her in thanks.
“Aye, I ran into Belle earlier. Relieved?”
She nods, taking a sip from her glass. “Yeah. I’m still… I don’t know. I’m pissed.” He nods back at her. “He knew that we… were together on the ship, so he’s known this whole time. He knew it in the Enchanted Forest, and he knew it when he came back here. He could have just let it go and accepted that it was over between us, but he didn’t. And he messed up because of that.”
“Aye. It’s quite frustrating, isn’t it?” She nods in agreement and rolls her eyes as she stares into her glass. “Do you think he knew about Corrine all this time?”
“That she’s ours?” He nods. “No, I think he genuinely blocked the possibility that we have a kid out of his mind. I think when he found out from you and Henry at the pier, that’s what clicked his plan into place for him. He realized that he would’ve lost without this memory potion.”
“Makes sense,” he starts, sitting up in his seat slightly. “I mean, it doesn’t. But it does.”
“Yeah.” They clink their glasses together as they both finish the contents, feeling the warmth rushing through their veins as it combats the cool bite of the late-autumn air. “I have a question,” she states.
“Go on.”
“Can you tell me what Henry said to Neal?”
He purses his lips, glancing up at her and shaking his head. “I don't want to violate his trust, love, but I can tell you that he’s a very smart lad.” She nods. “And I can also tell you,” he starts again, slowly and hesitantly reaching his hand towards her’s, “that Bae is not exactly safe to be around, and I’d feel much more comfortable if you and Henry stayed far away from him.”
“Did he threaten Henry?” She feels her palms starting to sweat.
“Not Henry, love. The lad stepped away from the bars and Neal said some things about you that I’d rather not repeat. That I wish your son hadn’t heard. I stepped a bit too close— in anger, I’ll admit— and he lunged for me, as well.”
She nods her head again, looking down at the table grievously at the news. Before everything, before Neverland and before the curse, she thought she may have been able to have a good co-parenting relationship with Neal, or that they may have even been able to become friends again. But now, he’s gone and ruined everything because he thought he could have more than he even deserved.
“Thanks for going with him.”
“Of course I would, love.”
“And thanks for… for coming after us, in New York. If you hadn’t…”
He shakes his head to silence her and says, “It was the right thing to do.”
They sit in comfortable silence for a few more moments before she says, “can I ask you something else?”
“What is it, darling?” She smiles at the fond nickname.
“How did you do it? How did you get to us?”
He looks down with a small, shy smile and says, “Well, the curse was coming, so I ditched my crew and took the Jolly Roger as fast and as far as I could to outrun it.”
“You outran a curse?” she asks with a doubtful smile.
“I’m a hell of a captain,” he returns in a flirty tone, to which she responds with a soft laugh. “Once I was outside the curse’s purview, I knew that the walls were down. Transport between realms was possible again; all I needed was a magic bean.”
“Those are not easy to come by.”
He looks down again and takes a breath. “They are if you have something of value to… trade.” His words are clearly calculated as they leave his mouth.
She hums again and asks, “and what was that?”
He smiles, eyes still looking at the ground, until he looks up and raises his brows at her, smiling as if he wasn’t about to admit to her that he sold his heart and home to find her and save her family. “Why the Jolly Roger, of course.”
She’s frozen. Her brows pinch together as they often do when he says something heartfelt and profound, although this time feels different. It feels like more. “You traded your ship for me?”
He doesn’t hesitate, answering her with a firm nod. “Aye.”
It happens so fast; she’s kissing him and his hand is lacing through her hair and hers through his. Her heart feels about ten times bigger than it should be at the feeling of his lips on hers after such an emotional confession, and she doesn't know if she’ll survive much more of his thoughtful words and selfless actions. When she finally pulls from him slightly, it’s as if he’s taking stock of what’s happening between them; as if he can’t quite believe that they’re here despite having been here before.
“I—” she starts, although she isn’t quite sure what she wants to say. She smiles as he does, the feel of his thumb running along her jaw and chin and his nose nuzzling lightly against her’s stirring the butterflies in her stomach and the heat much lower. “I want you,” she finally whispers. “All of you. Every part of you and everything that comes with it… I want it all, with you.”
It’s as close to a profession of love as she’s ever come before. She’s perhaps closer to telling him that she loves him now than when she actually said the words to Neal over a decade ago. She thinks she should be afraid— of his answer or of what may change between them, she isn’t sure— but she isn’t.
“I want everything with you, too, Emma. Always.” His use of her name rather than any number of nicknames he has to choose from, and the meaning of his statement, isn’t lost on her.
He kisses her again, like he can’t stay away from her any longer and absolutely needs to have her lips on his. While the last kiss was soft and slow, this one is more passionate and heated as he presses closer to her and laces his hand tighter into her hair. He pulls her gently towards him and she hears his chair scraping against the ground as he scoots forward. Once he’s got her where he wants her, he deepens the kiss, curling his tongue against her bottom lip until she opens up to him. It doesn't take much, the feel of him pressing close to her driving her mad with want.
She’s just about lost her mind when she starts to shift in her seat, planning to move forward and hoist herself up and onto his lap so that she can get closer to him and hopefully sate the heat erupting through her down to her core, until she hears someone behind him clear their throat.
Shit.
“I think it’s about time you and I have a little talk about your intentions with my daughter.” Emma squeezes her hands around the collar of his jacket as her eyes fly open. Thank god she hadn’t actually mounted him…
Killian clears his throat in an attempt to calm himself down before answering Emma’s father, although he still looks completely wrecked and refuses to turn around. “That’s a little old-fashioned even by my standards, and I still pay with doubloons.”
“Yeah, well, I’m leaving,” he says firmly, although she can hear a smile in his voice. “I was coming to give you a hug, but I’m not sure I want one anymore,” he jokes.
She laughs breathlessly as she stands up, moving to her father and giving him a tight hug. “How’s mom feeling?”
“Good, just tired. I’m happy that everyone threw this together, but I feel guilty being away from them, so I'm gonna go back to the hospital.”
“Give her a hug for me?”
“‘Course,” he says, kissing her cheek sweetly, then making a disgusted face and laughing.
Her breathing is still rapid and her heart is still racing as she sits back down next to Killian, so she takes in a big gulp of air and wishes she had more rum.
“Awkward,” she says with a small laugh.
He laughs. And he keeps laughing, and eventually he rests his head against his arm on the table and continues on laughing until no sound is coming out and he’s just a mess of shaking shoulders and teary eyes. At some point, she started laughing too, and anyone who exits Granny’s at this point would probably have the two of them committed.
“We can’t catch a break, love,” he remarks through more chuckles, and she laughs harder still.
Then she has a thought and acts on it so quickly that she can hardly even keep track of it. “Take me upstairs,” she says boldly, desiring not to be interrupted again when all she wants is to feel him on her.
He raises a dramatic brow and cocks his head at her in question, or perhaps seeking confirmation, and asks, “aye?”
She nods, biting her bottom lip in a way that she thinks may be more flirty than she intended before she leans in again and kisses him softly. “Take me upstairs,” she repeats against his mouth.
He stands so quickly that the table shakes and the glasses nearly fall over, and she laughs again. He holds out a hand to her, his smile bright and beaming, and when she takes it, she knows that things between them are shifting and that her life is changing.
She can’t wait.
~~~~
~~~~
Read Chapter 8
A/N: there’s one chapter left!! The next one is..... pure smut. Like, there’s a little plot in there but... it’s smut. So. Stay tuned if you’re into that?
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Her Majesty || Chapter 14
                      No Weddings and Two Funerals.
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                                          Two Weeks Later.
                                                   Funeral
“What’s happened?” Matthew immediately questions with furrowed brows as I shuffle out of Anna’s room. Everyone stares at me with bewildered eyes, unaware of what has transpired. I bite down on my tongue and compose myself for a minute, clearing my throat as I take a breath. It is nobody’s business what happens behind closed doors between her and me. As far as anyone’s concerned, she had issues with the security plan this morning. “She needs a minute, come back in five,” I glance towards the ladies who are holding Anastasia’s dress and dress coat. “Trust me, you’re going to want to give her a minute.” I half-smile, trying not to sound like a prick, but I don’t think they want to get yelled at in the same manner I did. Anna is not in any state to deal with anyone or anything at this exact moment. She needs a few minutes to calm down, breathe and compose herself, perhaps a few minutes to throw things and get her emotions out. I couldn’t imagine being in her position and having to deal with what today will hold. I understand today is a day that nobody wants to go through, nobody wants to say goodbye to a parent one last time. As much as I understand her need to let it all out and take it out on me, it doesn’t make it easy on myself when I have a short fuse with one-hundred different things I need to do for the day. Without sounding selfish, adding a spiralling Anna to my list of issues is not what I need right now when the palace safety is my top priority.
“Oliver, guard the door and don’t lose the Princess,” Matthew instructs while I storm off.
I march down the hallway and stop at one of the doors before I open it with ease and without much thought. I am on a mission, I know what I am in search of. A lady’s maid turns to glance at me as she is cleaning the room. I provide her with a meagre smile before I exercise to the tea cart that is set up in the room, “Nevermind me,” I comment, taking a glass and pouring myself a bottle of whatever unlabeled whiskey is in the decanter.
“Sir, that was for the guest.” Her voice is low and timid.
I nod my head, “Trust me, I need it more, excuse me,” I mutter, taking the glass with me and stepping out of the room.
Matthew stares at me and shakes his head, “It’s nine in the fucking morning, Harry, you’re still on the job.”
I heavily sigh and hand him the glass, “Take a drink, you’re going to need it.”
Matthew glares at me for a moment before taking the glass, “You’re going to be the fucking death of me, Harry,” Matthew mutters under his breath, taking a swift drink of the stiff whiskey, “What happened in there?”
“Mate, I have no clue, I was told to fuck off and got my ass chewed out, I have no clue what I did,” I respond, bustling down the stairs.
As I reach the middle of the stairs, I observe a woman with lavish, moon gleam-gold hair pulled in an old school style, loose bun, black glasses covering her eyes, and three rows of pearls hanging around her neck, complimenting the all-black dress she has on at the bottom. I raise a brow for a moment while I watch as she clasps her black glove covered hands on the handle of one of the suitcases surrounding her. “What does one have to do to get some help around here,” The unknown woman questions, striking a nerve as she glances over at me.
“And who the fuck are you?” I bitterly question the moment I reach the bottom of the stairs. I am not in the mood to deal with anyone who isn’t meant to be in the Palace nor am I in the mood to deal with anyone who believes they are entitled. I do not deal with entitlement.
“Huh, someone’s in a bad mood. Do you not know who I am?”
“No... How did you even get in? Where’s security when you need ‘em?” I groan, irritated that the security team has let some random woman into the Palace on a day such as today. Matthew really needs to work on our team, they too are starting to piss me off. Perhaps my first order as reigning King should be to reevaluate the security team and find new members. It appears Matthew, Oliver and I are the only ones who are suitable for the damn job.
The woman chuckles and places her sunglasses on her head, revealing her eyes, “Darling, don’t worry, I know who you are, Harry.”
“Well, this is not breakfast at Tiffany’s, so Ms Hepburn, the door.” I gesture towards the door she presumably entered from. I still have no clue on who she is, but she looks very similar to Audrey Hepburn but doesn’t have the soft voice and grace of Audrey, this woman is more daring, bold and outspoken.
She’s the class of woman that could plausibly rip someone to shreds with a mere feather and look absolutely innocent, charming and sweet as she does it— she’d show no remorse.
“I am the princess of Denmark, I believe it is still polite to curtsey.” The woman smiles, gesturing for me to bow and show respect.
“And I am—” I begin but I am promptly cut off.
“Delighted to have you,” Matthew speaks for me. “Aren’t you, Harry?”
I was not about to tell her I am delighted to have her; I was going to hold rank and be an asshole but I must not. “Harry, this is Madeleine Noelle Veil of Denmark.”
“The name sounds familiar…” I trail off, “Oh, god, you’re Madeleine,” I sigh, realising who the woman who stands in front of me is.
Madeleine nods her head, “Ah, we do have signs of life in that forehead,” Madeleine remarks. “Charmed, I’m sure,” Madeleine adds to her insult, somewhat mocking me further. I can tell this woman is going to keep me on my toes until her departure, and I already hope that it is promptly.
“Madeleine is one of Anastasia dearest friends,” Matthew informs me, “Madeleine, Anna is upstairs.”
“Harry, will you be a dear and carry my bags?” Madeleine asks.
“I’d be delighted, Madeleine,” I respond, faking a smile as I realise I have no choice but to be gracious to this woman.
Madeleine hums, “You may address me as Princess Madeleine Noelle Veil of Denmark.”
“Well, Princess Madeleine Noelle Veil, I am sorry to inform you, I can only carry one bag, you may carry the other,” I delicately roll one of her suitcases towards her while I pick up the other.
She stops the suitcase with her hand, “You forgot the ‘of Denmark’,”
“Sorry, Princess Madeleine Noelle Veil of Denmark,” I correct myself, “You May carry this suitcase up the stairs,” I felicitously smile.
I carry the suitcase up the stairs and Matthew brings the other, doing his best not to huff and puff about the weight of the suitcases— it’s as though the woman has packed for weeks— I sure do hope she isn’t staying here for weeks, I might lose it.
I place the suitcase at Anastasia’s bedroom door, “I am sure there will be a guest room for you soon and your bags will be placed in there.”
“Thank you, Harry.”
“You May call me Mr Styles,” I respond, “Good luck in there,” I gesture towards the door that is the only thing between a raging Anastasia and her long lost friend.
Madeleine stares at me with a smile, “I don’t need luck, Mr Styles,” she winks and takes a leap of faith by opening Anna’s bedroom door and striding in.
♛♛♛
I have spent the morning operating around the Palace, doing my best to keep everything in line and making sure that the security team knows precisely how to handle each hour of the day— there is no room for mistakes. Matthew has been taking care of the Queen’s service, doing his best to make sure order is in place with her as well. Today is not like all the other events that I have had to manage or work— this is wholly different from a royal ball or a tea held by the Queen— this is something significant where I have to also worry about the citizens. Today, we are not dealing with a few hundred, no. We are dealing with over two thousand attending the funeral, millions watching it on television and thousands in the streets. There is no room for error.
The funeral cortege is being prepared outside the Palace, they are doing it old school today— as the King would have wanted. Instead of the procession being led by the hearse, with the family and following behind in, the family is walking behind the coffin. I am not surprised by the means of transportation and the old ways, the King always appreciated doing things traditionally. The cortege will start shortly outside the Palace where tens of thousands of flowers have been laid; I have never seen so many flowers before in my life, it’s a sea of blossoms out there and I am in awe at how the public is mourning the death. I am not sure what I had expected, but it wasn’t this. I didn’t anticipate the impact to be this extreme. Anastasia does not know this, but the public has been lining up outside since four this morning.
When I woke up to start monitoring the systems, I was amazed to observe people already lighting candles and paying their respects, ever so peacefully.
I shift the heavy curtain towards the window, stepping away from the overwhelming crowd that is out the front, I turn on my heel and see Oliver standing in front of me waiting for instructions on what to do. I stare at him for a moment and cock my head to the side before taking a sip of my coffee.
Oliver raises a brow and clears his throat, “Why are you staring?”
I don’t respond, instead, I continue to glance at him, attempting to pinpoint what it is that doesn’t seem right about him, “You don’t look right.”
“Excuse me, sir?”
“Your attire, what’s missing?” I question, eyeing every inch of his suit, “Oliver, do you have your gun?”
Oliver nods his head, “Yes, sir.”
“Fix your tie,” I instruct, “If I see your tie loose again I will do what Matthew did to me and tie your hands behind your back for an hour and make you walk up and down the halls,” I threaten Oliver, “I don’t care if your tie is loose when we are just walking the Palace, but for events, it needs to be well done.”
Oliver nods his head, his hands swift to adjusting his tie, “I trust you know what to do today? Do you have any questions?”
“Whose service am I on? I was never told.”
“We will be watching everyone, this is a time to always keep our eyes open and to observe the crowd and surroundings.” I begin to explain to Oliver that today isn’t about being on a specific service, as a whole, we are to look after everybody. “If we are forced into a protocol, you take Anastasia, Matthew takes the Queen, and I take Madeleine.” I remind Oliver of the protocol Matthew and the Queen has put into place.
I am not too thrilled about not being on Anastasia’s service if something happens but this is the plan the Queen has asked for. I have no choice but to comply for now. As Oliver nods his head, my phone rings in my pocket.
I reach my hand into my pants pocket and slide my finger across the screen. “Harry Styles,” I answer the call from one of the Palace numbers…
“We are aware who we are calling, Harry,” Madeleine’s voice echoes through the phone and I sense my body tense up at the vibration of her voice. It isn’t that I hate her by any means, it’s more so her tone and sass that irks my nerves. It is evident she is going to be a pest, it makes me wonder how she and Anastasia are such close friends, they seem as though they are polar opposites.
“What do I owe the pleasure, Madeleine?”
“Full name, Mr. Styles.” … “I’ll let it slide, I don’t have time for this. Anastasia is requesting you, we have ten minutes until we need to be out that door and, to be honest, I don’t think I will be able to get her out the door. I have gotten this far, you need to come up here.”
I heavily sigh and roll my eyes at her comment, “I will be right up,” I hang up the phone. “You, stay down here and start rounding everyone up. By the time I get back down here, everybody needs to be in a line,” I instruct Oliver before making my way to the staircase and relaying the message through my radio that all security personal need to be lined up and by the doors, pronto.
I hurry up the stairs and make my way down the lengthy hallway, passing staff and other security members, doing my best to keep a steady pace without running.
I reach the doors of the bedroom and Madeleine is already standing outside of them with her arms crossed. I raise a brow, expecting some sort of snarky comment.
“She is requesting you, she was fine until she wasn’t,” Madeleine softly informs me.
“You had one job,” I respond, stepping past her.
I walk into Anna’s room and close the door behind me. I take a breath and there Anna stands in front of her jewellery, her hands pressed the edge of the glass vault and her hair cascading down her back in the most elegant curls that have taken hours to perfect. “Anastasia,” her name falls from my lips softly and she turns to gaze at me.
She looks beautiful, as always. And as beautiful as she looks, I can see the sadness in her eyes and the quiver of her lip that breaks my heart. “I’m sorry for—“ Anastasia begins and I swiftly cut her off, placing a delicate kiss to her lips.
I know she is sorry, I know she didn’t mean to go off on me earlier, she doesn’t need to apologize for how she felt when she was overwhelmed, today is a day that nobody wants to ever go through. Nobody wants to have to lay one of their parents to rest. “I know,” I assure her, my hand brushing her hair away from her face before I kiss her cheek lightly.
“Will you…” Anastasia trails off, trying to catch her breath and not cry, “Will you—“ she can barely find words to escape her lips. She closes her eyes for a moment and holds back tears that she has presumably been holding back since she was forced to get dressed earlier.
“Take a deep breath, we have time,” I assure Anna, unsure of how to comfort her right in this instance, I don’t want to smother her or cause her to get angry again.
Anastasia takes a few deep breaths and opens her eyes, “I need a necklace,” Anastasia’s voice is unsteady like the shaking of her hands. I nod my head and she turns to face her glass box, I step closer and press my hand the small of her back, drawing small circles in a loving way as we both look down at the necklaces to choose from.
“Which one do you like?”
Anastasia shrugs her shoulders, an indication she wants me to choose for her. I take a moment to take in each beautiful piece that lies in front of me. My eyes cast themselves on a triple strand necklace that has rows of graduated stones, suspended between two diamond triangles. I know she hates wearing pearls so three rows of diamonds should be perfect.
I delicately pick up the necklace with my hand, holding my breath as I bring it closer— holding royal heirlooms makes me nervous. I step behind Anastasia and gingerly place the necklace over her head and to rest charmingly around her neck. I carefully clasp the necklace together before tapping Anna’s back to let her know the necklace is secure.
She turns around to face me, her hand reaching to touch the diamonds before she takes a deep breath and grants me a small smile of gratitude. I step away from Anastasia and make my way to where her coat is hanging, I take the heavy coat off the coat hanger and walk back towards Anastasia. She glances at me and then at the coat before looking at me again. I assist her with sliding the coat up her arms and bringing it around her front before I pull her hair out from under the coat, “We have time, darling,” I again reassure her, well aware of her eyes that are threatening to fall with tears yet again. I’m not sure how she’s keeping herself together, I’d be a mess if I was her. I’m even more unsure of how they expect her to speak to the public that has been lining outside the Palace for hours and is currently waiting for her.
“I uh… I..” Anastasia begins but shakes her head.
“Sit down,” I instruct, guiding her to sit on the edge of the bed. “Is it the people outside?” I question, wanting to attempt to ease the situation, but I can’t if I don’t know where to start.
“I don’t want to… I can’t… I can’t talk to them,” Anastasia breathes out. “But I have to… They’re waiting.”
I grow quiet for a moment, thinking of what I can do to help her out and calm her down. It’s not fair that on the day of her fathers funeral she is making speeches or addressing the public, she can barely find the words to speak to me, I don’t think she should be forced to speak as the future Queen. “I’ll sort it out, you won’t be speaking to them.”
“How?”
“Just let me handle it… Do you want a few minutes alone?”
Anastasia shakes her head, “You’re not going to be near me today, I want a few minutes with you.” Anastasia responds, finally speaking a full sentence.
I silently sit down beside Anastasia and allow our soft breaths to fill the silence. I am not sure what I can do or say to make her feel better, at this point, I don’t think anything will make her feel better besides just being here for her, nothing I say will change things. I can’t bring back her father and I can’t say for certain just how the events transpired or who killed the King, specifically, but I can support Anastasia, even if it means to sit in silence beside her.
♛♛♛
After giving Anastasia some time to sit in silence with me, I managed to get her out of her room and down the stairs to where we stand, right now, in front of the doors to the outside world.
“Harry,” Anastasia breaks the silence and I hum, waiting for her to speak, “Will you walk with me?” Anastasia asks while everybody is getting ready to step outside the doors and greet the public.
“Where to?” I ask, “We are about to exit.”
Anastasia shakes her head, “I mean… the cortege, will you walk with me?”
“We are walking behind you,” I inform Anastasia, gesturing towards the team who are currently being put in line by Matthew and prepped one last time.
“No… I want you to walk with me, not behind me, please.” Anastasia softly informs me, looking down, almost as if she is nervous to ask such a simple request.
It takes me a moment to understand what it is she is asking… She doesn’t want me to walk behind her as the security guard, she wants me to walk beside her as her husband. Before I can respond, Anastasia’s attention is taken by her mother who hands Anna gloves for her hands, just as Matthew taps my shoulder, an indication that I need to step back because the doors are about to open. I shake my head at Matthew and I step beside Anna as she requested.
The Queen looks at me and gives me a small smile of approval before shaking her head, “I don’t think this is such a good idea.”
“The cortege? Me neither.” Anastasia mutters.
“You two can’t be on display, at least not yet, we haven’t announced it and it isn’t propper right now.”
“Now we want to discuss proper etiquette?” Anastasia sneers, “Nobody will know, he will walk beside me, if it makes you feel better, we won’t even hold hands.”
“Harry, the Queen is right, the media coverage will be focused on her,” Matthew softly inputs his opinion, “But, your majesty, if I may, I don’t think it would be such bad attention for Harry to walk with her. We can divert the stories later and say it was just protocol…”
Matthew takes me by surprise when he advocates that he approves of Anastasia and I to walk.
I had assumed he would be displeased and expect me to get in line like the other security personal.
The Queen helps Anastasia with her gloves and runs her hand over Anastasia’s wedding finger, “Where is your ring?”
“Harry has my rings,” Anastasia softly informs her mother. “God forbid anyone sees them,” Anastasia mutters unhappily, “The staff were noticing my necklace.”
“Walk beside her, try not to show signs of a relationship… but if you do.. oh well,” The Queen sighs before shrugging, “You’ve already played the monarchy, you may as well play the people,” she whispers before winking at the two of us.
I’m not quite sure when the Queen will give us the permission to have our relationship public, at least to the staff, but something tells me she’s getting closer and closer to her breaking point.
“Hm, maybe you’re not such a bad guy after all,” Madeleine takes my attention for a brief moment.
I glare at her, “Meaning?”
Madeleine smirks and ignores my comment before the doors open and for a brief moment, everything stops.
Anastasia POV
I take a deep breath as Harry takes my necklace off of me and moves towards placing it back in its glass case to put back in safekeeping. I lean against the wall, my eyes dropping to the hem of my black dress— a dress I’ll never want to wear or look at again— a dress I intend to donate to charity so I never have to wear it again. I don’t want to ever relive the moments of what today bought.
“Harry?” I gaze over towards him. Harry hums, closing the glass case and reaching for my coat that he was holding for me as we entered the palace. “Can you tell me there’s an explanation for everything?”
Harry places my coat on a hanger and hangs it up on the wrack the ladies in waiting will roll out when they come up here, “What do you mean?” Harry softly asks.
“Can you tell me that there’s some sort of secret plan devised? That my Dad isn’t really dead, you and Matthew were in on a plan where he had to fake his death? Perhaps even that he was wounded but he escaped the hospital and you guys had to cover it all up? Something? Anything?” I softly request, believing that he has some sort of explanation for my father’s death that he hasn’t told me yet. At this point, I’ll take anything, even if it means my father is off in another country tucked away.
Harry stares at me for a few moments, shrugging his suit jacket off and loosening his tie, “Anna, darling,” Harry begins but he pauses, sitting himself down in a chair against the window, his hands running through his hair before he peers up at me. “I’d love nothing more than to tell you this was a grand plan Matthew and I came up with to save your father from the corruption and the monarch, but that isn’t the case.” … “Darling, I will find who did this.” Harry informs me.
It was wishful thinking to hope that there was a mysterious plan I wasn’t aware of and that my father was living somewhere undercover. “We need to get ready for dinner.” I switch the subject, not desiring to dive further into the feelings and emotions that have been swirling my thoughts since the moment I received the call.
“We?” Harry questions, “I’ve been up since three-thirty, Matthew has relieved me. I’m going to sleep.”
“It’s a private dinner, I’d like for you to attend.”
“Mmm, okay,” Harry nods, leaning back in the chair, “I just need a few minutes.” Harry sighs, closing his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest. I know that sigh and by the way his arms are crossed over his chest, he has no desire to get back up. He desires to sleep and stay asleep until he can gain the energy to crawl to bed and stay there.
“The security system is flawed, no offence.” I break the quietness between us, my thoughts failing to cease my predicaments and emotions.
“Where is this going, Anna?” Harry immediately challenges, not too pleased with my commentary nor the fact he can’t get a few minutes of peace.
If I can’t have peace, neither can he.
As selfish as it sounds, I don’t want the quietness, I don’t want to rest here with my thoughts and emotions while he sleeps harmoniously. I’m not entirely sure what I want, but I know it isn’t silence.
“How can the king be brutally murdered if he’s meant to have security? You and Matthew were one of the last people to see him.”
“Are you trying to say I had something to do with it?”
“No… I’m saying, he’s meant to have the highest of security… where were they?”
Harry opens his eyes and lets out a breath, “I don’t want to have this conversation.” I don’t blame him, I’m sure this is a troublesome conversation for him as well. It sounds like security failed him.
“And I really didn’t want to attend my fathers funeral, but here I am.” I gesture to the space between us.
I know the events are far from Harry’s fault. Deep down, I know he did his job the way he was meant to, as did Matthew, but that doesn’t make things any easier. Coming to terms with what has transpired is proving to be more arduous than I ever imagined.
“Everyone was told to stand down, Anastasia.” Harry breathes out.
Stand down? I don’t understand how everyone was told to stand down. The whole purpose of a security team is to ensure the safety of the King. “What?” The word falls from my lips coldly.
“All security personnel were scattered between your mother and you. Your father decided that he’d rather be compromised than for you or your mother to be in danger, you and your mother were and still are at high risk…”
“So, why did you go to visit him? You killed off one of the men and somehow my father still dies.” My words are harsh, but I can’t make sense of the decisions that took place before my Father passed.
“We did our job. We kept the King safe and we kept you and your mother safe, the man who was making threats, he was one of the ones on the boat. We had reason to believe he was the mastermind and most threatening, we were wrong… there’s someone else out there.”
“Why did nobody stay with him?” I ask again, unable to comprehend that with such a high-security team, my father still managed to be horribly murdered.
“As I said, everyone was disbanded. I attempted to stay, he refused and I knew I needed to get back to you. We did everything we could and respected your father’s decisions with forcing us to care for you and your mother. I’m sorry, Anna, I am. But I promise I’m going to find who did this.”
“How? How are you going to do that?” I demand, unsure of how he can execute such a promise. He is part of my security team not a member of the investigating team, he is not a private investigator.
“Don’t worry about how… can we please drop this conversation?”
“Fine, are you going to abolish the monarchy?” I press.
“No, I’m going to take a nap, are you going to join me?” Harry proposes, standing to his feet and making his way to the bed, falling on it and growing comfortable, not minding that he’s still in his suit or his shoes.
I go to speak but I’m halted at the vibration of a knock at the door, “You have to be fucking kidding me,” Harry mutters, “Do I need to go to my apartment to fucking sleep?” Harry huffs.
“You have your own room at the palace, why don’t you try that?” I sneeringly respond and Harry glares at me before I open the door imperceptibly, just enough for the lady’s maid to perceive me but not Harry.
“Do you need my assistance with getting ready for dinner, Princess?”
I shake my head, “No, thank you. Once I take this dress off, I’d like you to dispose of it. Donate it, sell it, burn it, I don’t care. I don't want to ever see it again.”
The lady nods, “As you wish. Would you like Eleanor to come back up?”
“In an hour.” I nod my head, deciding my main lady in waiting can assist me. It isn’t that I necessitate the guidance, I just considerably like the company of Eleanor. “I’d like for you to tell Estelle, my assistant, that she can go ahead and send all the signed letters I have done…” I dismiss the lady and watch her exercise off before I close the door and turn around.
“What letters?” Harry instantly asks.
“The ones I responded to this morning when I couldn’t sleep and didn’t want to deal with the funeral.”
“Have you received any letters?”
“Not that I have read,” I shake my head, “Nothing that I know of like the letters you were getting that you tried to keep from me.”
Harry hums and adjusts his arm under his pillow, leaving me with my thoughts while he falls asleep.
Harrys POV
I remain at the dinner table, feeling out of place and unwelcomed as the Queen has me sitting beside Anna and other staff members placing food on my plate. I do not feel as though they should be placing food on my plate or making sure my drink is filled at all times, I am still one of them. I do not desire nor need special treatment for any reasons. To cover up the fact I am attending dinner, Anna’s mother made it known to the staff that the dinner is private and open to Matthew and me as a thank you for all we have done today.
Today has been a day that nobody will forget, the amount of flowers I have perceived and carried on behalf of Anna is outrageous, not to mention the extensive walk we had to make instead of taking a carriage. The day has been a rollercoaster that nobody has wanted to be on, emotions have been all over the place, and Anna has been all over the place. I am surprised we have gotten through dinner without her sobbing. It has been an obstinate line between being a husband and security, a line that I am weary of having to draw and hide. It broke my heart to have to watch her mourn the loss of her father and not be able to comfort her. I could not wrap my arms around her and hold her, I couldn’t take away her pain or do anything beside stand behind her and keep her safe— the best I could do was caress my hand to the small of her back every now and again and manage to subtly whisper an ‘I love you.’
I was bitter that due to circumstances, I couldn’t be there for Anastasia when she needed it, I couldn’t offer any sort of comfort to her or her mother, I couldn’t contribute anything but their safety. I will never forget the glimpse in her eyes when she turned to glance at me for a brief moment, completely heartbroken and somber. It was in that moment where she looked entirely defeated and empty… There was no sort of light in her eyes, nothing but emptiness that can’t be explained.
I pull myself from my thoughts and attempt to focus on the small conversation taking place. Anna’s mother is chatting about some of the minor renovations occurring in the residence Anna and I will be moving into. As far as I know, Anna’s mother insisted on having the living quarters updated for the two of us. I’m not sure what the updates entail, but as long as it’s more than just a room and a bathroom, I’ll be fine. I’ll be even happier when I don’t have to hide things or when I can keep clothes visibly in her room.
I take a breath and grimace slightly at the stabbing pain beginning in my shoulder. It has been coming and going and progressively getting longer and a bit more painful as time goes on. I clear my throat and ignore it, giving Anna’s mother a soft and faked smile as she seems to pay me some attention. I hope she didn’t notice my issue with abrupt discomfort.
“Looks like dinner just got interesting,” Matthew mutters and I side-eye Matthew. I follow his gaze and witness Henry walking in with a security member behind him, accompanied by Oliver.
“He’s here for you, Mr Styles,” Oliver announces, catching me off guard.
I nod my head, dismissing them both before glancing towards my mother-in-law, “Excuse me,” I politely stand up and adjust my jacket before I step to Henry and Oliver.
“Harry, we need to talk.” Henry is swift to demand my attention.
“I’m busy right now, so whatever shit you have done, can wait,” I mutter under my breath, attempting to keep our conversation private. Henry is never the bearer of great news, he is continuously screwing up my plans or causing havoc that I have to fix. I don’t have the energy to fix anything right now.
“I’ve been invited to dinner but I need to talk to you, it is important.”
“Sit down and eat dinner, but I swear if you touch Anastasia or look at her the wrong way, I will escort you outside and—” I begin and Henry cuts me off.
“I am not here to start problems, I want to talk to you,” Henry assures me, for the first time since I have met him appearing sincere. I nod my head and we step back towards the table and I take my position beside Anastasia for a moment.
I benevolently caress my hand to Anastasia’s leg and discreetly move to whisper in her ear, “I will be back, give me a moment,” I discreetly kiss her cheek while no staff is around before politely excusing myself from the table again, gesturing for Henry to follow me.
Henry is expeditious to follow my lead, trailing me like a lost puppy. The moment we get away from the table, Henry begins to speak, “You need to listen to me, Parliament is in on things, including Pippa.”
“Henry, you’re being ridiculous,” I shake my head with a hefty sigh.
“You need to hear me out, the prime minister is a part of it.”
“Henry, shut the fuck up for a second,” I murmur, not wanting this discussion to go any further while in the dining hall.
These sort of conversations, no matter how ludicrous, do not need to happen when there are guests around, especially a mere few hours after we have put the King to rest. I walk out of the dining hall and I signal to Henry to hush as the minute I see his mouth open, “Not now, wait,” I instruct, closing the golden handle and walking down the hallway to the closest bathroom.
I shove the door open and gesture for him to enter before I close the door behind us. “Don’t open your mouth,” I instruct again, my hand reaching for the faucet and turning the water on.
I watch the chilled water run and splash the sink before I glance at Henry, “First of all, you have three minutes once I am done talking, second of all, you never reveal information at a table or when people are in the room, are you wanting to end up like your mother?”
“It’s not like Anastasia is going to rat me out to anyone.”
“No, but that isn’t the point, there is a time and a place, the dinner table isn’t a place.” I remind Henry of minor etiquette that he should already comprehend. I shouldn’t have to remind him of the circumstances of today either. No discussion around Anna is deemed appropriate unless it is anything that can make her smile. Government and royal issues is not a topic of conversation that needs to be discussed today around Anna.
“Look, just listen to me… I think there are more people involved in things than we think, George is one of the men in on things, he has to be.”
“In on what?” I request.
“The King’s death.” Henry bluntly responds.
“And you’re not in on it? You literally tried to marry Anastasia and got mad at the race track, then you spooked her horse and got Anna hurt…. I won’t even mention the fact your mother turned out to be pure evil and was ready to kill someone in the palace before she somehow ended up dead… You and your mother could have conspired everything and you could just be finishing off the plan.`` I remind Henry of the past events that have occurred due to his negligent family who seem to be unethical and evil.
“Fair,” Henry shrugs his shoulders, “But not true, I am not in on it. I was forced into the relationship with Anna, I was forced to throw the fit and make headlines, just like I was forced to get the horse back— that was all my mother, she insisted on making sure I got a higher title and…” Henry trails off, not finishing his sentence before looking down in defeat.
For a moment, I feel bad for him, he seems confined in this circus ring without an escape.
“And she needed money, correct?”
“How did you know?” Henry challenges, staring at me with a heavy sigh leaving his lips. He really is defeated.
“I am good at my job, Henry… Before you and your mother killed the king… actually… the night you guys tried to get us all killed in Greece, the king told me a few things, as did someone else. Your family aren’t as wealthy as they seem. They were blackmailing the King, apparently they saved the Queen’s life at some point, I didn’t get the full story but I got the gist of it.”
“I didn’t kill the king, I had nothing to do with it. I was told that even if I didn’t marry Anna that once the king died I would become King, I would claim a title and my family’s wealth would change. I swear I didn’t kill the King…. I was forced into my mother’s plans. Now listen, Pippa and a few others did, I don’t know why, but it had to be them, look into it, please.”
“I will look into it but I think that is the most absurd thing I have heard all day.”
“Well, it might sound absurd but it’s true, I have had enough time to think about things while hiding from you.” Henry crosses his arms over his chest, narrowing his eyes on me as he makes it a point to make it known he has been hiding from me.
I lift my shoulders into a shrug and let out a small chuckle, “Why hide from me? Not like I will kill you,” I sarcastically and innocently respond.
“You had me followed, I am surprised you didn’t kill me. You did pull a gun on me that one day.”
“Eh,” I shrug, “Crossed my mind a few times but I figured you were not a threat until further notice. Now, what else do you know about your mother and her death, what was her deal with Louis? Why frame him?”
“I don’t know, I assume the corrupt parliament members got her too. I think Louis was just caught in the crossfire and was the easy target. Mum took his kindness for weakness and it somewhat worked.” Henry responds.
“I liked it better when you were quiet in the cottage outside of London. Why must you complicate things?” I heavily sigh, irritated that Henry couldn’t just stay quiet. “What do you know about your mother’s death?” I immediately request, unsure of how much he knows.
“Besides you moved her body... not much.”
“How do you know that?” I examine, well aware that the media didn’t publish that her body had been moved, they announced where she was found.
“Same way I know about the man Matthew killed who had threatened Anna. I followed leads and hoped you wouldn’t kill me.”
“Starting to wonder whether I should, you know too much information.” I can only assume he has followed me closely, I thought I had seen him a few times but brushed it off. I have had bigger fish to fry than to worry about this little sardine.
“I am not against you. You need to listen to me, Pippa is in on a lot of things, how do you think she knew about the death so quickly?”
“Protocol, she told me,” I answer.
“I think you should consider why she is perfectly okay with you being King and why she doesn’t want Anna as Queen, that’s all I am saying before I end up like my mother and have my body moved by you.”
“I am not going to kill you… yet,” I roll my eyes, “Stay quiet and don’t double-cross me.” I instruct, unsure of how to handle the situation. I’m not sure what I’m going to do about anything anymore. “So you think parliament got to your mother before anyone else could?”
Henry nods his head in agreement, “Yes.”
“What about your father?” I ask, still unsure with how Henry’s father plays a role in any of this, as far as I know, he’s the one that’s more on the mafia side of things. He calls the shots. He was the one who the King was on the phone to when I was in my morphine-induced sleep. I am not too sure if I believe Henry’s thoughts.
Henry again looks down at his shoes before looking back up at me, “Harry, I think he’s apart of it, too,” Henry confesses, “This started from them saving the Queen and it has spiralled into this mess for money and power, he’s very powerful with the connections he has.”
“Could he have killed your mother?”
Henry shrugs his shoulders with uncertainty, “Possibly, not sure what that motive would be… My father was a part of the Greece trip but Anastasia wasn’t meant to be harmed, I found all this out after…”
“So your father is a part of shit, another culprit I can add to my list… But you just told me parliament is a part of it, which one is it?”
“Parliament is in it and I think my Father was in charge of collecting money, assets and the threats. I don’t know, Harry. I’m on your side. I don’t want to be on their side anymore. I don’t want to be their puppets.”
“Mhm,” I hum, “I’m going to go back to dinner, you need to keep your mouth shut and stay under the radar until I figure shit out.”
Henry nods his head and I turn the water off, stepping out of the bathroom before leading back towards where dinner is still being held.
♛♛♛
The security chambers are cold and relatively quiet, the palace is the same way, there’s not much movement occurring and everyone seems to be accounted for. Anna is in her room, the Queen is in her living quarters, Madeline is with Prince Louis in the guest suite and Matthew is roaming the palace, doing another sweep of the floors.
“Oliver, you did good today,” I give him a faint smile as he relaxes down in the chair and presses his fingers to his temple. “A headache is a sign of a day done well,” I chuckle and I pet his back gently while walking past him to reach my sign out sheet.
Oliver sighs and lifts his head to look at me, “Thanks, I think it is lack of sleep.”
“Get used to it, pal,” I respond, signing my name across the line and flicking my wrist to check the time that reads one-fifteen in the morning.
“Lack of sleep or headaches?”
“Both,” I respond, “Aspirin will be your best friend, there will be nights your body will feel like it has been slammed against a brick wall, it isn’t an easy job, as you have seen already, but you’re doing really good.”
“This is the nicest you have been to me.” Oliver cracks a weary smile.
“Mhm, it’s the lack of sleep getting to me,” I grin.
“Most of the other guys are assholes, but not in a good way.” Oliver comments and I nod my head.
I have noticed the others tend to be assholes to Oliver, I’ve overheard a few comments here and there. I haven’t said anything mainly because I believe Oliver needs to stand up for himself, but I’m also waiting for the right moment to stand up and fire back on Oliver’s behalf. The others are merely jealous of the opportunity Oliver possesses.
“They’re assholes because they want your job and despise you, they don’t get to escort the members around, they’re more as back up. Get used to people not liking you, it comes with the job. Half of them can’t stand me and I did nothing, it is just that we are higher ranked, we were chosen and they weren’t.” … “Come on rookie, it’s past your bedtime, sign your signout sheet and we can head on out, Ryan has the surveillance covered,” I gesture towards Ryan who is actively watching the monitors.
Oliver and I force ourselves around the Palace, doing our best to quietly make our way towards the bedrooms. Oliver has temporarily been granted permission to stay at the Palace in a room until we can work something out for him, I was thinking of letting him stay at my apartment that I used when I first started, but I don’t see why he can’t be granted a more permanent decision on being able to stay living on the Palace grounds, there is enough room and it makes it a little bit easier to know Matthew and I are not the only ones constantly on the property, having backup and someone trained the way we need them to be is beneficial. I will have to work something out with Matthew and Anna’s mother for Oliver. Oliver is a good worker, he may be a bit younger than I am, but he has a good head on his shoulder. That isn’t to be biased either because he saved Anna in Greece, he is genuinely a hard worker.
Without a warning, a piercing scream distracts me from my thoughts and causes my eyes to widen. I look at Oliver before my instincts kick in and I begin to run down the hallway, my shoes hammering the red carpet, “I have screams coming from the east rooms, the third floor, I need the Queen and Princess’ locations, lock them down,” I instruct over my radio for all security details to hear.
“Ryan, any details?” Oliver requests on his end, keeping up with my pace while we continue to hurry towards the screams.
I reach a corner staircase the staff use and I am stopped when I recognise Madeleine, standing with her hands cupped over her mouth, her eyes wide and glossy with tears. Deep down, I don’t want to look at her discovery, for I have no clue what she could be staring at. Whatever it may be, it cannot be grand. My heart beats wildly and I take a breath before I take the plunge and glance over to observe what has prompted her to scream.
Oh, no.
I turn away for a brief moment before I shake my head, “Lock the Queen and Princess down, they’re not to leave their rooms or be left unattended, no staff are to leave the palace nor are they to move locations,” I speak into my radio before I grab my phone that is ringing with Matthew’s caller ID. “I need you up here, now… I uhh… I have a dead body.”  
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lee-minhc · 4 years
Text
CEO’s Son, Mr.Seo
walking into work the day after your promotion should feel good,it should give you a slight sense of power, almost.but that isn't how i’m feeling.being promoted to be the ceo’s son’s assistant,isn’t what i had in mind when i was offered the promotion.for lack of better words, i am terrified.not of mr.seo perse, but of his actions,his personality,and to be completely honest, his sex drive.i’ve heard stories of that man railing his last assistant during office hours!the man is completely unprofessional and a complete horn dog.the question i have,is.will i enjoy working with this man,and will anything come of it.only time will tell.
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“hey Y/N, be a good girl and go copy these employee reports for me”mr.seo says casually as he slides some papers across the desk to me.i glare at him as i snatch the papers from the desk and stand up.”don’t act like you don’t love it,Y/N”he adds on as i leave the room.
i scoff as i close the door and make my way to the copy machine,happy to see chaeryong in the same room.”chae!”i call out with a smile and a small wave.
“how is it”she asks with a small giggle as she turns her attention to me at the copier.I groan out and throw my head back aggressively,chaeryong clearly understanding my wordless answer as she laughs at me.
“he won’t stop calling me by pet names”i say as i click through the settings.chaeryong chuckles and shakes her head before picking up her cup of coffee.
“good luck honey”she says as she walks put of the room.i shake my head and turn my attention back to the machine in front of me.
“you know, i can make you make those sounds in different ways than annoyance”i hear mr.seo say from behind me.i flinch slightly at his voice and growl under my breath.
“I’ll pass,thank you”i retort as i turn toward him and press the stack of papers to his chest and begin walking back to our shared office.i drop into my desk chair and slip off my heels as i continue the file i had been sent that morning.
i hear the door open and roll my eyes,ignoring his greeting and focusing on my work.
three months later,mr.seo had not changed a bit,but had become for touchy.he will come up behind me at my side of the desk and run his fingers through my hair if its down,he will place his hand on the small of my back as we walk to his meetings,and once even pulled my hair back before i ate my food.
“how is the file coming along”i hear in my ear as hands softly grab my waist.I squirm away from his hands and shake my head.
”do not touch me mr.seo”I warn as i continue working.
“just call me changbin,baby.its not that hard to do.i’ve told you for like 2 months now”he groans out in annoyance.
“it is not professional,mr.seo.besides.i’d like to keep you on the work side of life.being on first name basis with you will-”i cut myself off.”i’m sorry,i was rambling”i add on as i lower my gaze to my key board.
“it was cute,don’t worry about it”he says as he stands up straight.
“to answer your question mr.seo, its coming along just fine”i answer flatly.
4 months later,mr.seo has somehow successful gotten me to talk to him regularly about my life.”how did that date go last friday?”he asks as he tugs off his suit jacket.
“hm?oh,that.turns out he just wanted to fuck-oh my god!i’m so sorry mr.seo”i cut myself off and slap my hand over my mouth.
“damn,baby girl has a bite”mr.seo laughs out.i blush and sit down shyly.”well now that you've broken that ice,feel free to cuss around me all you want,i don’t mind”he says,his voice filled with amusement.
within the hour,we are both walking down the hall to the first meeting of the day.”by the way, you’re hot when you cuss”he whispers as he pushed the door open.
“so did you two end up fucking”he asks from his chair.i choke on my water and stare at him with wide eyes.
”n-no!”i stutter out with a bright blush.i turn away from him and try to stop blushing.
“oh.still a virgin huh”he says with a chuckle.i blush even harder.
‘n-no,sir”i whisper sheepishly.
“you aren’t?!”he shouts and i shake my head in response.
“interesting”he mutters.
by the time we finish our work, it is almost 11 o’clock at night.”how about we get to know each other a little?”changbin offers as he pulls out a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
i agree and soon we are on the couch in the office,sipping whiskey while we talk about anything and everything.somehow,i find myself on his lap.i look into his eyes and smirk as he starts to lean in.
“you think i will let you win that easily?”i whisper as i stand up and grab my things.”have a good rest of your night, mr.seo.i will see you tomorrow”I say softly as i open the door and walk out.
the next morning,i find a post it on my monitor that reads, “that wasn’t very nice, baby girl”.i chuckle and shake my head,not thinking much of it till i hear the door open.”good morning baby girl”mr.seo says.
“have a rough night?”i tease with a smirk as i start up my computer.
“i’d take it easy if i were you”he tuts as he sits in his chair,glaring at me from across the desk.
“awe.did mr.seo get rejected last night”i say with a fake frown as i lean back in my chair.”poor mr.seo doesn't know what to do with himself when he gets rejected,huh”i say softly.”you're just so used to getting every woman you talk to,that you couldn't handle my actions, could you”i add on as i see his eyes darken.
“you cant even defend yourself!you aren’t so big and bad as you talk yourself up to be”i laugh out as i cross my arms over my chest.he huffs out and turns to his computer at that and stays silent most of the day.
after lunch,i sit at my computer and reach for my jacket, only to find it gone.”oh”i mutter sadly.i hear the door open and with out thinking,say “changbin?can you please turn on the heater for a bit?”
“finally”he says as he walks over to the heater panel and turns it on.
“what do you mean finally?if you wanted it on, you could have turn it on without me asking”i say confused.
“no its not that.you just finally called me changbin”he says with a smile.
“o-oh.sorry”i say shyly as i move my focus to my work.i hear him chuckle at me before focusing on his work too.
i grab my bag and push in my chair and turn to the door.”are you coming to the end of year party?”changbin asks.i turn back to him and think for a second.
“yeah,i am.why”i say with a small smile.”will you be my date?”he says while wiggling his eyebrows.
i laugh softly,”i don’t think you would let me go alone anyway.i don’t really have a choice”i say playfully.changbin smiles back at me and nods his head.”goodnight changbin.don’t work too late”i say lightly before leaving the office.
i hear a knock at my door and smile happily as i rush over and open it.”hi!im almost ready, you can come in”i say brightly as i put in an earring.
“i like your place.its cozy”changbin says as he looks around.
”thank you,i designed it myself!”i say proudly as i put in my other earring and quickly brush my hair.
“okay!i’m ready”i say as i turn back to him.he smiles at me and walks up to me.
“you’re beautiful”he says softly as he grabs my hand.my cheeks flare up and i look down.”thank you changbin.you look very handsome”i say shyly.
changbin smiles and guides me down to the car.once we arrive,chaeryong finds me immediately and pulls me away.”spill!!”she says excitedly as she bounces up and down.
“its nothing!we are going together as coworkers”i explain.”not with the way he is eyeing you”chae says with a playful smile.
“oh shut up!”i say with a laugh.”this is nothing.i’m sure”i explain.we talk for a while before splitting up and going to talk with our other coworkers.i eventually meet back up with changbin and we continue to talk to everyone.
“changbin,you have gotten tremendous amounts of work done this year compared to the last two.what changed?”the CEO asks with a smile.
“ Y/N keeps me focused on work more than another assistant you've given me,she has also helped me get most of the files done and corrected”changbin praises as he grabs my waist.
i feel a tingling between my legs but try my best to ignore it.”please,mr.seo it was mostly you”i say shyly.the two continue to talk and when they finally end their conversation, i drag changbin to our office and lock the door.
“whats wrong?”he asks concerned as he grabs my hands.i blush furiously and slowly look up at him.”i have a bit of a problem”i mutter
changbin places his finger under my chin and makes me look up at him.”what is wrong”he asks softly.”im horny”i whisper.”what?i could not hear that”he says as he furrows his eyebrows.
“you made me horny!”i say as i squeeze my eyes shut.”and what do you want me to do about it,you rejected that months ago”he says with a smirk.
“well i’m going back on my words, please changbin”i whimper as i wrap my arms around his neck.”i need you”i whisper as i mouth at his neck softly.i feel him shutter at my actions and then feel his hands on my hips.
“what do you need,baby girl?use your words”he says softly.”need you to fuck me”i say as i start to grind against his thigh.changbin pulls me off his body and backs up to the couch,he drops down onto it and pulls me onto his thigh.
“i won’t fuck you,but.ride my thigh.show me how bad you want me,baby”he whispers into my ear.i whimper as i shift my hips forward on his thigh,instantly falling against his chest as gasps leave my lips.”please”i whisper out as i move faster,chasing my release.
“feel good baby?”he whispers into my neck as he sucks and nibbles at the skin.i whine out and nod as i feel my stomach tighten.”fuck,daddy please let me cum”i beg as i grip onto changbin’s biceps.”do you think you deserve it?”he asks.
“you drug me away from my fathers party to ask me to fuck, i think baby girl dosen’t deserve to cum”he tuts as he grips my hips and lifts my hips up.”no!daddy please”i beg as tears fill my eyes.
“i will be a good girl please let me cum”i plead as i feel my high slip further and further away.changbin drops me back onto his thigh and helps me set a fast rhythm.i finally cum with a loud whine of changbin’s name.
“next time you better be a good girl or i won’t let you cum at all”he warns.”you wouldn’t do that to me”i huff out breathlessly as i smile up at him.he smiles down at me and shakes his head.
“your place or mine?we are not done”i say with a smirk as i shakily sit up.
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jaehyunspeachparty · 4 years
Text
daddy jaehyun
ii.v. (a,m)
You wake up, look at the clock in shock and couldn’t realize what happened. You have not woken up by yourself for a long time. It was 7 o'clock in the morning and you hear nothing. Nothing at all. You got up and look after your children, but they were all still asleep. You go back to the bedroom and lie down on the upper body of your husband, who was sleeping peacefully. "Jaehyun", you whisper softly and stroke his hair. He moved briefly and you only hear a short grunt. "Jaehyun, the kids are still sleeping." Your hands moved away from his hair and walked to his bare torso. "We should take advantage of that." You are still whispering, but your lips were so close to his neck that you could see how he got goose bumps. Jaehyun finally responded, but his eyes were still closed. He smirked and put his hands on your hips. "Jaehyun, I want you." You moan lustfully and reach for his length. At that moment, he opened his eyes and looked at you in surprise. You take his hand and lead it under your panties. "Feel how wet I am." You rub his hand between your folds and turn your eyes inwards. You start moaning and even if you exaggerate a bit, you knew that Jaehyun got horny because of it. He did not say anything and just watch you, how you satisfy yourself with his hand. You start with your other hand to massage your breasts and moan even more intense. "Shit." Jaehyun groaned and sat up. "Undress yourself." His tone was suddenly very serious, and his eyes were very focused. And you knew one thing, if he commands something in that state, then it's best to follow. You let go of his hand and completely expose your body. Meanwhile, Jaehyun also took of his clothes completely. While you came back to him, he massaged his length. "How do you want me?" You sit on your knees right in front of him and look at him submissively. You liked the game and it made your sex life so much more intense. Jaehyun was in bed very dominat and showed you where to go. "Turn around" he attacked you and you follow his instructions. You stood half in bed with your knees waiting for more. Then you suddenly feel his hand on your shoulder, which presses you down firmly. "So you want me?" His voice was suddenly deep, and you continue to feel the pressure on your back, which made you hardly to move. "Yes, Jaehyun, give it to me." You held tight to the edge of the bed and from one second to the other you can feel how his dick was inside you. It didn’t take long for him to pull his best part completely out of you and pushed fast back. You stifle your scram in the bed sheets and you feel how he was firmly grabbed your ass. Doggystyle was the best position for you both. For Jaehyun you were tighter, and he was able to reach your G-spot so much better. You feel his dick thrust into your perfect point and stimulate you closer to your orgasm. "I'm close." You moan and raise yourself a bit. Jaehyun took your hair and pulled it hard. It hurt, but you liked it, because Jaehyun really got going harder and faster if he did this. You could almost reach the stars and your orgasm was so close. But there you hear your baby crying through the baby monitor. Jaehyun stopped for a moment, but you did not want that. "He can stay alone for a moment. Keep going." You turn back to Jaehyun and look at him angrily. You did not want to take that feeling away now. But then you hear Miga crying in the corridor. She crawled out of her bed and was on the way to you. "Fuck." Jaehyun pulled his dick out of you and got dressed again. You also get dressed and see how your daughter came into the bedroom. "Mommy, Daddy ... I'm hungry." She rubbed her eyes and her hair was completely messed up. You sigh, because you had no choice anyway. Jaehyun went into the kitchen with Miga and you went to Sunoh.
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You hear later Jaehyun and Miga arguing. It was an issue that became more and more of a problem since Sunho was born. When Jaehyun went to work every time, Miga started crying and / or screaming. Since Sunoh was still restless, you lift him over your shoulder and go to the two. Jaehyun was about to put on his shoes, but Miga had one in her hands. "Miga, finally give me my shoe." Jaehyun sighed annoyed and held out his hand. But the little girl shook her head. "NO," she screamed and made a pout. You decide that Jaehyun has to handle this fight alone, because after all, he is lately really often at work because he wants to work on his solo album. A consequence is that his daughter misses him, and he had to deal with it. You go to the kitchen to make yourself something to eat. Jaehyun's iPhone was next to the coffee machine and you wanted to bring it to him, but then it lights up. “I'm already downstairs, we can still get something to have breakfast.” The message was from Suji and your heartbeat stopped for a second. In the moment you were so angry that you ran straight to him, still with your baby on your shoulder. Meanwhile, Jaehyun already had his shoe back, but Miga was still angry. "You forgot your phone in the kitchen. Oh and Suji wrote to you." Jaehyun looked at you wide-eyed and Miga suddenly became quiet. He reads her message and put his iPhone in his jacket pocket. He sighed but said nothing. But that just made you even more angry. "Don’t you want to say anything about having breakfast with your ex-girlfriend while your daughter doesn’t want to give you your shoe because she misses you so much?" It was hard for you to breathe because you were full of anger. Your little son also noticed your stress level and started to cry. "It's not like that, it's all business." Jaehyun looked desperately at you, but you just don’t understand it. "What is there business? Suji is devious and fake." You stroke your son's back that at least he is calm. Jaehyun's iPhone continued to vibrate, and he sighed. "Suji just wants to help me, you should stop being jealous. Just be happy for me, that I can fulfill my lifelong dream." He took his bag and opened the door. In the meantime, Miga started to cry again and the children's scream echoed down the hall. "I really have to go now." Jaehyun's phone kept vibrating and you just stare after him. He closed the door and let you stand with the children in the anteroom. As tears rolled down your face, Sunoh and Miga cried too. But you had to be strong now, you could not show your children that you were so weak. You allow Miga to watch some videos on your tablet and you rock Sunho a little in your arms until he calms down as well. When you have had a few minutes for you, you try to breathe deeply. You didn’t have many friends here because you moved to Seoul just because of Jaehyun. But there was one person you always felt good about. You knew you should not call him, because Jaehyun didn’t want it. Much has happened between all of you, but at the end - he was a friend. You pick his number and know in the moment that it was a mistake. But you needed someone to talk to. "Hello?" You hear the all-too-familiar voice and were relieved that he had picked up immediately. "Doyoung, can you come over for a minute?"
to be continued...
Daddy Jaehyun Masterlist
397 notes · View notes
nomnomsik · 5 years
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Three Squeezes - (m)
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Summary: Yoongi is notorious for his grumpy and emotionless behavior as director of an upcoming company. Yet, it’s a mystery to everyone how manager Hoseok always seems to soften him up. The truth is that the two are actually engaged. Unknown to this fact, you happen to take an interest in Hoseok... and he does too. 
Sope x reader, poly!au, Director!Yoongi x Manager!Hoseok x FemWorker!OC
Word Count: 8K 
A/N: A very special birthday present for @kimseokmomjins !! She not only wanted this fic to be done but she gave me lots of inspiration and ideas for it! I teased her so much with it. I hope you love it~
Trigger warning: Smut everywhere, bisexual sope, threesome, unprotected sex, profanity, polyamorous relationship, angst, sexuality dysphoria. 
“I’m leaving early.”
“Okay! I’ll see you later~”
There were only two voices in the surrounding air, two that vastly contrasted each other. Monotone and the other full of life and color. The door to the small apartment shut closed, the light early morning music playing out of the radio that sat on the kitchen counter. Hoseok took a seat onto the soft cushions of his papasan chair, sighing as he listened to the slight hum of the kettle that sat on the stove. He let his eyes close, relaxing to the swaying and soft music.
As Hoseok’s ears picked up the rattle and high squeak of the kettle, he stood up, stretching his arms up to the ceiling as he walked into the kitchen. He picked up the boiling kettle, flipping off the heat as he pulled up a teapot. His eyes flickered over the clock that struck every sound, joining with the radio.
Sometimes you can’t help who you fall in love with.
It was something he repeated and meant a lot to him. The metal can rattled as Hoseok poured tea leaves into a tea bag before sealing it up and placing it into the teapot. Within minutes, Hoseok had poured hot tea out from the sprout of the teapot, his hands coming out to grip both sides of the cup for a relaxing warmth.
By 7:40, Hoseok was out of the apartment. He was fully dressed, a white dress shirt decorated with vertical blue stripes and a pair of black dress pants matched with dress shoes. Hoseok preferred taking public transportation, enjoying the city despite being in it for a few years. As he stepped off the platform of the subway, he climbed up the dirty and greasy stairs, rounding the corner until he spotted his regular coffee shop.
“Two iced lattes please~” He sung, swiping his card as he was handed his freshly made drinks. He stuck two straws in before rushing out of the shop and down the street. As he opened the door to his office building, he smiled at the secretary before taking the elevator up to his floor.
“You’re late, Jung.” You scolded.
“Aww angel, can’t you let it go just this once? I got you some coffee!” He pouted, holding the delicious drink tauntingly in his grasp.
You looked at the tempting drink in hand reluctantly agreeing.
“Fine.”
He stretched his arms in triumph.
“You can’t resist coffee, angel~”
“Mmwhatever…” You spoke, sipping the cold and caffeinated drink. Hoseok placed his bag on his office chair before making his way over to the director’s office. Hoseok brought the back of his knuckle to the solid wood, knocking several times until he heard a grunt of approval. Hoseok cautiously opened the door, poking his head at first before letting out a big smile.
“Hi~”
He was responded back with the sound of the keys pressed rapidly by the man who worked diligently. Hoseok set the iced drink onto the table but gasped and pulled it away, walking over to the other side of the room. The man looked at Hoseok with confusion as his drink was just robbed of him. Hoseok bent down, squatting as he searched the bottom cabinets before sprinting back over to the director’s desk.
“I forgot a coaster~ Sorry about that!” He grinned, the coaster absorbing the condensation off the plastic. A light pink tint adored the director’s face as he desperately tried to focus on his computer screen.
“Thank you…” He whispered.
“Of course! No problem, Yoongi.” Hoseok smiled back, patting his lover’s head affectionately before giving him a small nudge on the cheek. Yoongi was taken aback as Hoseok pushed him further into his chair, bringing his own lips down to meet his. The two shared a passionate kiss as Hoseok maneuvered his head so Yoongi’s lips fit perfectly in. Hoseok’s hands wandered as his body leaned further into the chair, caressing the strands of hair at the back of Yoongi’s head.
Yoongi’s breath was labored as Hoseok pulled away, only to go back in, giving him no time to actually catch his breath. Hoseok sucked the bottom of Yoongi’s lip, seeking approval to go deeper. However, as he tried to push further in, he only received a slight push on his chest.
“H-hoseok, stop...We have a meeting soon.” Yoongi whined, separating their lips a few distances away.
Hoseok just hummed before colliding his lips back down. “Dun wanna~ You’re so cute like this. Who would’ve thought the grumpy director is just a shy boy?” He giggled.
“Hoseok… w-wait wait! Wait!-” Yoongi cried out, covering his mouth with both hands as Hoseok pushed and moved his hips. Hoseok observed the way Yoongi squeezed his eyes shut, his cheeks pink as he groaned. Hoseok’s happy and sunshine’s demeanor dropped as a smirk grew on his lips. He brought his hand down, running his hand over Yoongi’s clothed hard-on. Yoongi squirmed, whimpering as he pushed Hoseok’s hands away.
“I’m taking you right now,” Hoseok ordered stepping off the office chair as he started to undo his belt.
“W-what? Now? We… We can’t do it right now. We have no time.” Yoongi stammered, unable to keep eye contact as his lover amusingly stared down at him.
“What, do you not want me to pin you down on this desk and fuck you until this whole goddamn building hears you?”
“H-hoseok!” Yoongi shrieked, his face heating up. “You’re such a different person when it comes to this.” He muttered, fixing his hair and shirt.
Yoongi sent Hoseok an intimidating stare before he spun his chair around. “No, we don’t have time for your shenanigans, Hoseok.”
Hoseok crossed his arms, scowling as he begrudgingly refastened his belt.
“Fine, maybe later tonight then.”
Yoongi suppressed a blush, looking away.
“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Get out of my office… Oh and thanks for the coffee.”
“Of course!” Hoseok beamed. “You know how much I hate that stuff.”
He’s going to kill me from embarrassment one day.
»—————————–✄
“That took unexpectedly long, Mr. Jung.” You stood, arms folded as he entered his cubicle.
“Yeah, stuff like that happen sometimes, y/n. After all, I have very deep talks with the director.” He smiled, pulling out his cabinet drawer.
“Everyone knows you’re his favorite. I don’t know why since you show up late almost every day.” You joked, flipping through a packet of papers.
“Ouch, y/n. Don’t you know words hurt?” He jokingly cried, holding his hand on top of his heart as if he had been stabbed. “I am late every day. But I get coffee for you so... “
“Fair enough, I guess.” You shrugged.
Hoseok stood up again, shoving a bunch of papers in between his laptop. “I have to go to a meeting now. I’ll see you later.”
“Right. Bye, good luck and don’t get fired~” You nonchalantly waved, your eyes solely on the words in front of your screen. You watched as Hoseok walked down the hall until he was no longer in sight. As soon as he disappeared, you turned around, some of the other members of staff huddling around you. A bunch of voices spilled out all at once.
“Omg, y/n!”
“I’m so jealous, what the heck.
“Did you guys notice how he didn’t even deny it?”
“Jesus, did you see those veins on his neck and hands? Fuck me up-”
A loud clap echoed as you silenced the group, folding your hands on top of your lap. They all looked obediently at you, listening to you as if you were about to speak the prophecy.
“Now, everyone. Let’s go back to our work, okay? As much as I’d love to talk about his veins and neck, we have a report to finish.” You instructed. “Maybe afterward, then we can.” Some of the girls nodded in agreement, scurrying back to their desks.  
“Like where can I get a Hoseok in my life? I swear, even his ass looks fine.” A female staffer mumbled and admitted without shame, her eyes shut as she was going through some painful realization in her life. You laughed from your desk, making big red circles with the marker in your hand. But, you looked up from your work, confessing.
“Okay, but can we talk about how director Min is the most irritable person ever who’s ridiculously rude for no reason and yet…!” You paused, taking the time to think. “And yet, Hoseok somehow gets along with him. Imagine that? The two most contrasting personalities ever and they get along. I don’t think I can believe that.”
“Maybe Hoseok just gets along with everyone and director Min doesn’t want to be rude to nice people?” Someone proposed.
You shrugged, some people nodding their head in agreement.
“Ahh, who cares anyway. Director Min is like that to everyone. Can we just talk about how cute Hoseok and y/n look together though?! They’re the angel couple I swear!” A girl squealed, her papers shaking in excitement. A hum of acknowledgment filled the room like a heat of embarrassment filled your face.
“Guys… It’s very flattering but…” You trailed off.
“Y/n, you better get some of that.”
You sighed. “Guys…Hoseok’s too nice to just use them like that...”
In the end, you couldn’t help but wonder how the meeting was going.
»—————————–✄
Hoseok and Yoongi sat next to each other during the meeting, watching as the CEO had personally come to pay a visit to one of his branches. As the meeting continued, the two fiddled with each other’s hand under the table. Yoongi's right hand interlocked with Hoseok’s left hand and they both kept a poker face and stared at the monitor.
Yoongi squeezed Hoseok's hand three times, as his eyes stared dead straight. A small smile crawled on Hoseok's face as he also returned three squeezes back. Yoongi released his hand making the ‘ok' hand sign. Hoseok's eyes looked down under the table as he slipped a finger inside the circle.
Yoongi almost exposed himself, feeling the need to slap his lover for such a crude and inappropriate joke at the meeting table. Hoseok laughed silently, lifting his head back up as Yoongi began writing notes down next to him. The ending wasn’t as long as they had expected to be, and as they stood up, Hoseok gave Yoongi a big grin.
As the two of them left the meeting room, they walked back to Yoongi’s office. Yoongi played with Hoseok’s fingers as he let out a bright gummy smile. Hoseok ruffled the top of Yoongi’s head, quietly closing the door to his office.
“When are we getting our rings?” Yoongi asked, pulling out his chair before taking a seat. Hoseok wandered around the room, looking out the clear windows.
“Oh, I heard yours is taking a bit longer, but mine should be arriving today!” Hoseok chirped, his cheeks glowing pink. Yoongi hummed, opening his laptop back up.
“Don’t wear yours until I get mine.”
“W-what?” Hoseok stammered, turning around to face him.
“I said, don’t wear yours until I get mine. I don’t want people to see you have one and I don’t.” Yoongi repeated. Hoseok walked over to Yoongi, his hand coming up to grip his jaw.
“Would you get jealous if I did?” Hoseok questioned, turning Yoongi’s face until he stared straight at him.
“...No…” He muttered, his eyes darting to the side. “Ugh… this is why you should’ve consulted me first. It would’ve been so much easier to actually get the ring to fit.”
“That’s not how proposals work!” Hoseok whined, exaggerating his hands as he waved them up and down. Hoseok walked over to the closed curtains, pulling them back to reveal a line of cubicles in the main workroom with Hoseok’s cubicle the closest one to the window.
“I guess I’ll get going now.” Hoseok let go of the curtains as they covered back the main office.
“Mm.” Yoongi hummed back...
»—————————–✄
You didn’t mean to intrude when you were simply walking down the hallway. But it couldn’t be helped as the meeting doors open and out came Hoseok with Yoongi to his right. Hoseok stood a bit taller than the director, but as you squinted and looked closer, you blinked in disbelief. The director had a smile on his face, his expression completely lit up like a star.
You watched for a few more seconds looking at how the director toyed around with Hoseok’s hands and laughed along with him until they were out of view. You gasped in shock and ran back to your cubicle, sitting down as if you had seen nothing. You had never seen the director with such a bright smile on his face.
Hoseok came back to his cubicle, giving you a bright smile before sitting down. The curtains to the director’s room were pulled back, revealing Yoongi’s diligent figure as he typed away on his computer. You couldn’t help but stare at Hoseok. He was truly gorgeous. It didn’t surprise you that everyone was infatuated with his bright personality. Maybe you did want him for yourself…
“Hey Hoseok, I got you some coffee.” You grinned as you handed him the iced mocha. He smiled, thanking you and taking a sip. The two of you conversed unknown to the gaze of Yoongi who watched the entire interaction. A smile graced his lips as he watched Hoseok’s smitten attitude with you. Without a doubt, he had a thing for you.
But, Yoongi couldn’t help the dark feeling that grew inside and the lurch of his stomach as he saw the two of you together. Hoseok would always stay loyal, but would he be happy with him? He looked no different from the way he had talked to him, a genuine smile on his face and his expression bright and bubbly.
It was nighttime when Yoongi packed his things and locked the door to his office. As he walked down the hallway to the elevators, he noticed a light illuminating in the dark office workroom. He curiously walked over, ready to turn off the light when he saw your sleeping figure.
Your eyes were shut closed and your breathing was smooth and even. Yoongi checked his watch again as he stared at the time. It was too late. What the heck were you even doing this late at night? Why didn’t you just go home?
He went through the stacks of papers that were on the desk, his eyes widening at the amount of work you had accomplished. He laid his briefcase on the ground as he dug through the stack to find important data summaries and charts. The papers ranged from analytics to future predictions, and important companies and contacts.
As he looked back at your sleeping figure, he couldn’t help the way his heart sped up. As he stared at you, he couldn't help the realization. Not only were you productive and hardworking, when were you this pretty? He swore he never felt this way towards someone, especially a woman before. This feeling was foreign, different and scared him so much.
Yoongi hastily took off his suit jacket, faltering when he was about to put it over your shivering figure.
Whatever, screw it!
Yoongi laid the jacket over you and walked to the staff room, waiting for the single-serve brewer to process the drink. In less than three minutes, a hot cup of coffee was made. Yoongi walked back to the office workroom, placing the cup far away from the pile of papers and away from your arms in fear you were definitely going to spill it everywhere.
He grabbed a marker, scribbling on a spare piece of paper and placing it under your hands. Sighing, he picked his briefcase up and walked over back to the elevator.
As he drove back to his shared apartment, his thoughts were mixed and clouded, uncertainty the main factor. No matter how much he tried to repress the memory of what he saw that afternoon, he couldn’t. Hoseok, notorious for despising coffee with all his soul, accepted your caffeinated drink without hesitation. If that wasn’t a clear sign he was completely infatuated, his entire life was a lie.
Yoongi had taken an interest in you, but nothing more, right? You were a worker of his and he was perfectly content with his relationship with Hoseok. Not that Hoseok wasn’t, but he wasn’t sure anymore. There were lots of self-doubts that he bottled up.
When you eventually did wake up 30 minutes later, you rubbed your eyes, your nose picking up the scent of coffee. You looked confusedly around you, pulling the jacket off your shoulder and in front of your eyes. This was not your suit jacket. You weren’t rich enough to own one of these. As you brought the jacket up to your nose, you could make up the scent of a familiar cologne. Wasn’t this the scent of Hoseok’s cologne?
As you stretched, a paper fell out from the desk and you picked it up. You brought it up to the light, squinting.
“Go home y/n. I don’t pay you for overtime...”
You blinked, trying to read the even smaller text below that.
“Also, I made you coffee.”
“What in the-” 
Needless to say, this note was definitely written by director Min. You can identify his chicken-scratch any day. But as you dwelled on that fact, you felt your face heat up. Your boss had walked in on you sleeping, completely passed out on the desk and most likely drooling. 
“Ugh, fuck my life!” You screamed into the empty office.
“Why’d he even make me coffee… Doesn’t he know it’s 2 am…”
»—————————–✄
The air only grew thicker every time you met eyes with director Min through the window of his office. It was more awkward as you embarrassingly returned his suit jacket back to him. Before, you would’ve thought you could easily stand up to director Min, but you never expected that he had such a delicate soft side. The fact that he cared for your health and wellbeing gave you an indescribable warmth.
Your interactions with Hoseok were still the best parts of your day as you too chatted with each other. You were so lucky to sit right across from him. Yoongi was forced to watch the interactions that occurred each day, praying for his ring to hurry up and arrive so he can make a statement.
And that date came, his resized ring, which fit perfectly on his finger, came in. The silver metal was sleek with a small diamond embedded in the middle. It didn’t stick out, but at the same height with the rest of the ring. Hoseok had dropped his things when he returned back home and saw Yoongi with it on. He kissed the older until they broke into a giggling fit. Hoseok held onto his hand as they walked together to the wardrobe that stood in their bedroom.
Hoseok pulled out the box that held his ring and slipped it onto his finger as he sighed in bliss.
“It’s official.”
“It was official when we filled out the documents.” Yoongi deadpanned.
“I’m trying to be romantic here!” Hoseok rebutted, pouting.
A calm silence filled their entire home as they both looked at their rings together. It looked different when it was on their finger, more beautiful and meaningful.
“Hey, Hoseok…” Yoongi started, feeling the urge to talk about their relationship. “How do you feel about y/n, romantically?”
“W-what?” Hoseok questioned, taken aback. “Y-yoongi, what are you talking about…?”
“The way you look at y/n is very similar to how you look at me, so I want to know-” He turned his gaze to Hoseok. “Tell me how you feel about her, now.”
“Yoongi, I-I…” Hoseok took a few steps back. “Do you not trust me?” His voice quivered as he couldn’t look at up. “I haven’t done anything...A-and, I wouldn’t do anything to her…” 
“Of course I believe you, Hoseok. You’re too nice to actually hurt me.” Yoongi replied calmly. He walked closer to his lover, wrapping his arms around him. “I’m sorry... I almost made you cry.” Hoseok embraced his lover as he tightly held onto him.
“I’m so sorry, Hoseok. I just-” Yoongi sighed as he ran a hand through his disheveled hair. “Y’know, I just... Whenever I thought too much about it, I got confused. I never thought I’d find a woman attractive and I previously knew about your past relationships with other women. But... I guess I was envious. You’re always so open about your sexuality that I couldn’t-”
“Yoongi, it’s alright. Take deep breaths and calm down.” Hoseok murmured, rocking his body back and forth. “You’re right, I should’ve made it more clear. I’m sorry too. I wish I could’ve helped you while you were struggling with it. I know how it feels to be lost and confused and I’m sorry I let you down.”
Yoongi sniffled and felt his eyes well up with tears. He kept sniffling as he broke down in Hoseok’s arms. Hoseok softly kissed the top of his head as he held onto him. 
For the years Hoseok had known him, Yoongi was not a guy who cried often. In fact, Hoseok really has only seen Yoongi cry twice before this. Once when he had asked Yoongi out and twice when he proposed to Yoongi.
To see Yoongi be so vulnerable in front of him warmed his heart. This is what he felt love was. This is what having a solid and trusting relationship was. It was something Hoseok only dreamed of when he was younger and now he had just that with the man he loved with his entire being.
The night ended with the two of them in their bed, rings adorned on their fingers as Hoseok made love to him. It was sweet, soft, and romantic that Yoongi couldn’t help the tears that streamed down his face as he stared back up as Hoseok. His life, being a constant mess of work and stress, was always made better with Hoseok. Stress that accumulated as the director of an upcoming company went away as he lost himself. With Hoseok, he didn’t need to think about any of that. He was more than happy to give him what he wanted. With him, Yoongi drowned all his worries away.
“I love you.”
“I love you too.”
The pair fell asleep giving three squeezes with their hands locked together.
»—————————–✄
The next day caused a huge uproar in the office. As Hoseok walked in, smiling and waving ‘hellos’ to everyone, they all immediately noticed his ring. A crowd formed around him all asking him hundreds of questions. Hoseok eyes widened as he blinked and smiled innocently at all the people. You gawked at the beautiful ring on his finger. Now you felt a bit bad that you were blatantly flirting with him when he already had someone.
When the elevator door open and up came Yoongi, it caused even a bigger uproar. He gave a small wave and everyone screamed as they pointed at the same ring on his finger.
“Oh my God!”
“A-are you guys m-married?!”
“AHHHHHHHHH!”
“WHAT THE HECK I DIDN’T THINK-”
“Uh… Good morning to you all too. Now get to work.” Yoongi responded calmly, walking off. As he slipped into his office room, a smirk graced his lips in triumph. 
Now everyone knows the truth.
“Congratulations, Hoseok.” You whispered as he made his way to his desk. He gave you a happy smile, a blush adorning his cheeks.
“Thanks!” He beamed, opening his folder of papers. “Oh, y/n, after work, my fianc- I mean, um… Director Min says he needs to speak with you.” He blushed, pretending as if nothing had happened.
“Y-yeah, okay.” You replied.
Oh no... nononono. Did director Min know I was trying to flirt with his fiancé? But, then again he never worn or said anything about it… Ah, I’m doomed. I’m done for! I’m going to get fired 10 hours from now, I just know it.
Even though you busied yourself in papers and work, the time just flew by. It was already 6 pm and as you knocked on the door, Yoongi’s muffled voice came through. You entered the spacious office only to be met with Yoongi’s expressionless face as he stared at his computer screen.
“Take a seat.”
You pulled one of the chairs that stood in front of his desk as you nervously folded your hands on your lap. The door creaked open as you turned your head around, you were met with the happy smile of Hoseok. He waved as he walked over to his fiancé. Yoongi cleared his throat as Hoseok leaned on his desk.
“So y/n, there was something we wanted to discuss with you.”
You nodded obediently, hoping for anything to break the awkward air. Yoongi continued,
“As you know, Hoseok and I are engaged. And… Well to put bluntly, we both took a particular liking in you. You’re hardworking and extremely diligent and from what I’ve seen, you look like someone who’s loyal.” You lowered your head, unsure whether you were hearing this right.
“Y/n, we were wondering if you would be interested in a… polyamorous relationship with us... We… we may not have the strongest bond together, but we are willing to build one up with you…” Yoongi desperately scanned your face, looking for any sort of expression or confirmation, or anything.
“Um…” You nervously started, clearing your throat. “Well… I do… have a particular liking in both of you, of course, but… I’m… I’m not sure…”
“Of course! We get that!” Hoseok chirped. “We’re not sure how these things work either, but we want to do it with you. After all, you do like us, right?”
“Yes!” You replied with sudden enthusiasm. “Oh… I’m sorry… Um, yes I like both of you. But isn’t that… bad? Shouldn’t I only like one person?”
“Nonsense, y/n.” Hoseok cooed, walking over to cup your face in his hands. “You can’t help who you fall in love with. If you know the difference between love and lust, then that’s all that matters…”
“B-but, what does it mean to be in love?” You whispered.
“How about we find out together?” Hoseok whispered back, wiping away the tear that rolled down your cheek.
You followed Hoseok and Yoongi out of the office as the three of you rode the elevator together. The silent of the night was the only thing that roared in your ears. Even the sound of the engine of Yoongi’s car did not overpower the sound of the night. You watched each time the car would stop at a red light, the pair of lovers would fiddle their hands with each other as if their eyes were to only study their delicate features.
A part of you questioned why you were following them, knowing eventually how the night was going to end, yet, you wanted to be a piece of that love, no matter how small or insignificant. Yoongi held onto your hand, as you climbed the stairs together. His skin was cold and pale, yet he had held you so warmly and lovingly. You could understand why Hoseok was completely in love with him. He pushed the door open to the bedroom as you sat on the fluffy cushions. You brought your legs to your chest as you sat on the pillows, your eyes staring at the entrance of the room.
Yoongi approached you, staring into your eyes. You gulped, the sound echoing in your ears as you tried to stare him down. He smirked at your game, before softly kissing your lips. You smacked your hand over your mouth, face burning up. When you looked up, Hoseok was casually leaning on the wall of the door entrance, smirking at the two of you.
“Did you guys start without me?” He teased, walking over to the bed.
“Are we really doing this?” You asked embarrassingly as both men approached you on the bed.
“Yes.” They both replied in unison. “We both talked about it and decided we’re okay with it,” Yoongi added.
“Unless you don’t-”
“I do!” You cut Yoongi off.
Yoongi nodded, leaning down to kiss you again. But, instead, he roughly kissed your lips, biting your bottom lip.
As the two of you exchanged heated kisses, Hoseok worked on undoing the pants of his fiancé. Hoseok slapped Yoongi’s clothed ass as he flinched a bit. He parted lips from you as he turned to face Hoseok.
“What the heck was that?” He questioned accusingly.
“Don’t jut your ass like that then.” Hoseok looked at him darkly as Yoongi felt a shiver down his spine and obediently backed down.
You watched as Hoseok’s arms wrapped around from Yoongi's back and up to the front of his pants. They shared a kiss as Yoongi tilted his head back to perfectly fit Hoseok’s lips. As they roughly embraced each other, Hoseok’s veiny hands fumbled with the clasp of the belt as he desperately tried to undo it. Yoongi’s hands came down, guiding him and pulling the belt out from his hands.
With the belt thrown onto the floor, Hoseok slid down Yoongi’s pants as he broke off the kiss, panting and eyes fluttering open. He directed his attention back to you as Yoongi crawled over the sheets to bring his lips back to yours. Hoseok pulled the pants off Yoongi’s feet, palming the bare skin of his ass.
You moaned as Yoongi shared kisses with you, his hands resting on your thighs. Hoseok watched as he pulled the nightstand drawer open and squeezed lubricant over his fingers. Yoongi gently pulled on your ruffled shirt, urging you to take it off. His hands slipped under your shirt, unclasping the back of your bra as he dove his tongue into your mouth. You whimpered but lifted your arms enough so Yoongi could slip your top clothing off. It joined all of the other discarded clothes on the ground.
The passionate kiss was cut off as Yoongi yelped and pulled back from you. You cracked your eyes opened, only to see Yoongi whining and arching his back. Hoseok was halfway balls deep as he tilted Yoongi’s head back again to meet his lips.
“Don’t ignore our guest, Yoongi…” Hoseok was stern on the way he spoke, using that time to fully submerge his length in. Yoongi groaned, gripping the sheets as he suddenly looked embarrassed when he met your eyes. He turned his head the other way, hiding his embarrassment as he couldn’t keep eye contact.
“Now, now, Yoongi. Don’t you think that’s…” Hoseok’s hand came down on Yoongi’s ass. “Rude?” He rubbed the red skin soothingly as he nudged Yoongi’s head back to your eyes. When he didn’t get a response out of his fiancé, he gave a few thrusts, causing Yoongi to squirm and whine.
“Hmm? Why aren’t you answering, love?”
“Mm sorry…” He apologized, unbuttoning your pants and undergarments, sliding it down your legs.
He stared, bringing and dipping a finger between your folds. You squirmed as he barely made it halfway in.
“Wow…” He marveled. “Hoseok, she’s so wet already.”
“Oh really?” He teased, looking over the shoulder of his fiancé. “I think you should treat her as a way to apologize.”
Without hesitation, he dipped his head in between your legs, working his tongue. A blissful feeling overcame your body as Yoongi ate you out without tomorrow. You squeezed your eyes closed as you grabbed and pulled on his hair. You whimpered as his tongue worked deeper and deeper, wet sounds echoing throughout the room. However, the pleasurable feeling was cut short as Yoongi faltered. The loud sound of Hoseok’s hips connecting with Yoongi’s ass rang in your ears as your eyes shot open.  
“Ahh! Hoseok!” Yoongi cried out, his mouth losing concentration. He brought his hand to push back Hoseok’s hips to which Hoseok only roughly grabbed.
“Aww, how cute.” Hoseok spit, pulling Yoongi further onto him.
Yoongi brought his spare right hand up to his mouth as he muffled his moans, trying to hide his very weak resistance. You watched with wide eyes as Hoseok completely dominated Yoongi, taking control of the director’s movements. This Hoseok scared you. His angelic and soft office persona contrasted his sexual drive in bed. He was truly a demon.
“Nonono, we’re not having that.” Hoseok hissed, prying Yoongi’s hands away from his mouth. “I’m hearing everything I give you. And I bet y/n wants to hear it too. Y/n, look at how adorable and submissive the director is. Is this what you envisioned him to be?” He laughed darkly as he slammed into Yoongi.
“F-fuck! Ahhhh…” Yoongi panted, his head falling onto the pillows and upper body giving out. You couldn’t help the arousing feeling that dripped out between your legs as you watched Hoseok completely wreck Yoongi.
“Is… Does this usually happen?” You whispered, the breath taken out of you.
“S-shut up…” Yoongi grit, as he struggled to pull himself back up with his weak arms. His pride wouldn't let him just sit there and be quiet.
Hoseok hit his ass again, a sting radiating over Yoongi’s body as he yelped in pain.
“Don’t be rude to y/n. You’re my good boy, right? Now act like one.”
With that, Yoongi cried out as Hoseok’s right hand reached for his dick. His hand gave long strokes as he jerked Yoongi off.  
“H-hoseok!! I… P-please! AH!” He pleaded as tears welled up in the corner of his eyes. The stimulation was too much for his poor body.
“Shhhhhhh.” Hoseok hushed, not stopping his actions. “Shit… You’re still so tight… How in the actual hell... Even after all the times I-” He trailed off, Yoongi’s cries like music to his ears.
Hoseok’s deep thrusts combined with his jerk-off was too much as Yoongi was edged to oblivion. Yoongi convulsed and squirmed in his hold, struggling to tolerate the unbearable pleasure. However, Hoseok let go as he put both hands on Yoongi’s hips, driving to his own high.
“C-coming…” Hoseok stuttered, his hips following with him. Hot liquid spilled inside Yoongi as Hoseok squeezed his eyes shut. Your eyes never left the pair as you watched in amazement. Yoongi’s hair was a mess as it completely covered his eyes. Hoseok was out of breath as he stayed inside for a few more seconds before watching as the white liquid spilled out.
“Sorry about that, y/n. We didn’t mean to make you feel neglected.” Hoseok panted out, sweat rolling down his skin.
“Nono, I didn’t even feel that way. I was too… enthralled by… wow.” You replied, still in disbelief how Yoongi’s small and frail body handled that session.
“Y/n, come over here,” Yoongi ordered. You jumped but crawled over, sitting on your knees obediently. “Cute…” He murmured, running his hand through your hair. You felt your cheeks heat up by his compliment and touch. Was he always this sweet?
“Are you okay with this?” He asked, his eyes holding a fierce determination.
“Y-yes, I am.” You nodded.
Even though Yoongi was the biggest sub to Hoseok a moment ago, he still possessed an intimidating presence around you. You couldn’t help but bow down to him.
“On all fours.”
You obeyed.
“Stick your ass out a bit more.”
You listened.
Yoongi lined himself up at your entrance, observing your stiff body.
“Y/n, breathe. I won’t be rough in the beginning.”
You relaxed your muscles, taking a deep breath as Hoseok sat in front of you, patting the top of your head. He connected your lips as Yoongi slowly pushed in. The stretch hurt, but Hoseok made it his goal to distract you from the pain. He left soft kisses all over your skin as you took Yoongi in.
“Look at you… Such a good girl.” Hoseok praised, ruffling your hair.
A moan left your lips as Yoongi sank back in and out. After a few minutes of passive kissing and slow thrusts, you no longer felt the pain.
“I’m okay now…”
“Are you sure, angel? We have all the time in the world.” Hoseok spoke softly.
“Yeah, I’m sure.” You whispered.
Yoongi began a steady pace as you both groaned together. Hoseok watched as two people he cared about pleasured themselves. The innocent look on your face made his mouth water.
Over time, Yoongi’s pace got more intense, until you let out a cry during a particular thrust. Both of the men’s gaze darkened as they stared at you. Yoongi’s hands kneaded your ass as Hoseok no longer had an angelic smile on his face.
You shuddered as Yoongi’s pace completely flipped. He pulled you onto him, fully sinking you onto his length. You whined as you gripped the bed sheets, your body meeting his thrusts.
“A-ah!” You yelped as he grabbed a bundle of your hair and pulled you back. He could no longer hold back, setting a rough pace.
“Yoongi, go harder,” Hoseok commanded.
Upon hearing those words, Yoongi slammed back into you, earning a delicious whine from your lips. Your legs shook and trembled as Yoongi tightly held onto your hips, guiding you the entire way. Hoseok sat in front of you, gently stroking your hair as he watched every heavenly expression you gave out.
You clawed at Hoseok’s legs, looking for anything, any leverage. Hoseok smirked as he stared at your pathetic and desperate figure. From the way you had tears welling in your eyes to the loud gasps each time Yoongi had smacked your ass.
“S-shit…” Yoongi cursed, tilting his head back as he lost himself in pleasure.
“You’re so beautiful, y/n. Look at you. You’re doing so well.” Hoseok praised as you leaned your head on top of his thighs.
You cried out every time Yoongi connected his hips with yours, filling you with sheer pleasure as your mouth hung open. His rhythm was steady and rough as he kept his consistency. The grip on your hips was like a vice, knowing full well that bruises were going to form the next morning.
“H-hoseok, I think-” Yoongi muttered, increasing his pace and pushing his body more and more against yours. “S-shit!! Ahh, I can’t-” Yoongi cried out, sweat rolling down his forehead as you tightened too much around him. Yoongi trembled and he finally came inside you, panting as he stayed in for minutes. A euphoric rush overcame him as he slipped out and fell face first on the covers only for Hoseok to push him out of the way and flip you over until you were on your back.
Hoseok pulled your legs apart as he watched cum spill out and onto the clean silk sheets. You, on the other hand, were harshly breathing in and out, hoping to catch a break. Hoseok grinned, his ears delighted to hear the moan that escaped your lips as he pushed in.
“Do you think you can take me?” Hoseok taunted, brushing the hair that stuck onto your face.
“I-I… What do you… mean?” You took labored breaths, feeling extremely filled.
“Do you want me to hold back, y/n?” Hoseok sweetly cooed, staring directly into your eyes. “I can hold back if you need a break, love.”
You shook your head. “No… I can… I think I can, Hoseok…” Your voice trailed off as you prepared yourself for the man in front of you.
“You’re so good to me, angel~” Hoseok cooed again before violently snapping his hips harshly. LIke a flip of a switch, his whole demeanor changed as he roughly slammed into you.
“Fuck!” You cried out, squeezing your eyes shut as you gripped the sheets on both sides of you. “H-hoseok! Ah! W-wait! Wait! Ah!”
“Goddamn, you sound so good,” Hoseok growled as he hovered over top of you. You shuddered, feeling another touch on your skin. Yoongi gently stroked your cheek as he stared down at your lust filled face.
“Look at how good she looks, Hoseok.” Yoongi slurred, watching intently every time Hoseok moved. “I bet she wants you to ruin her.”
“N-no. T-this is f-fine. No… more than this.” You choked out, the intense pleasure blurring all line of thought.
Hoseok let out a devilish smirk as he grabbed your hips, only to push you down on him harder. You cried out, your body shaking as you twisted and bundled the sheets beneath you.
With your half-lidded eyes, you stared up at Hoseok, his face contorted in a serious expression as he focused on delivering the most pleasurable experience. His body was hot and sweaty as his lean muscles flexed every time he adjusted his grip on you.
As Hoseok slowed down for a bit, you pushed your legs back together in hopes of relieving the aching feeling between your legs. You rolled over onto your side, both of your legs fully shut and on top of each other. Hoseok tsked, grabbing ahold on of your right leg, prying it open and exposing it back up.
“Don’t fucking close them.” He seethed, immediately pushing his length back in. You let out a high cry as Hoseok realigned himself, his arms holding your legs apart.
“Where is it…” He grit, plunging back into you in several directions. “Where…”
“H-hoseok, what are y-you…” You whined, looking up to only see his eyes concentrated on your legs. Hoseok thrusted roughly back again, causing a surprising yelp out from your lips. You instinctively covered your mouth with two hands as Hoseok smirked.
“Found it…” He mumbled as he repeatedly hit the same spot over and over again. Yoongi wrestled with your hands as he pulled them off from your mouth to hear your beautiful cries of pleasure.
“Now be a good girl and take it, okay? We know you can. You’re such a strong girl.” Yoongi murmured into your ear as you lost the ability to form coherent words. Every time Hoseok hit your sweet spot, an indescribable shock was sent down your spine as your legs quivered. The snap of his hips was quick as he reached your g-spot almost effortlessly every time.
“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck…” Hoseok let out a string of curses as he buried himself even deeper. He gave you every single precious inch as he tried to outdo himself. “She’s… Fuck! Don’t do that… Ah, shit. Shit! I’m not going to last-” Hoseok’s voice trailed off as he fell on top of you, his lips right next to your ear.
“A-are you going to cum, y/n?” Hoseok groaned into your ear, his pace unrelenting as you squirmed and moaned.
You gave him a small nod of your head as he kissed your cheek. “O-okay…” He stuttered. “Let’s f-finish then.”
With a few more thrusts, you came, tightening around Hoseok’s length as he groaned. His pace lost its precision as he erratically pushed in. Seconds later, Hoseok released his sticky and warm cum all over, immediately spilling out as he sat up. Yoongi gave him a grin as they both stared at your fucked expression. Your hair stuck to your face as your eyes shut closed, completely exhausted.
“C’mon angel, there’s one more thing left.” Yoongi kissed the top of your forehead as you slowly opened your eyes back up. Hoseok looked divine and golden. From the way his hair parted to how it stuck to his forehead, it was too beautiful for your eyes. His toned chest and stomach suddenly made you feel much smaller than you previously felt before.
Hoseok brought his lips to yours, softly connecting them as he tasted the inside of your mouth. As he separated from you, he reached behind you to kiss Yoongi. Hoseok’s body toppled over you as he roughly dragged Yoongi closer to him. Yoongi let out a yelp before Hoseok crushed his lips again, diving his tongue straight into the cavern of his mouth.
“I love you, Yoon.” Hoseok smiled sweetly, nudging his forehead before breaking into a contagious giggle. Yoongi couldn’t help but smile himself as they both interlocked left hands, their rings matching.
“Let’s clean her up and then rest.” Yoongi proposed, his eyes grazing your sleeping figure. Hoseok nodded along, their eyes staring lovingly at their new partner, a new beginning with an addition to their family.
Hoseok and Yoongi curled on each side of you, a warm blanket overtop them as they huddled as close as possible to your body.
»—————————–✄
As morning peeked in from the curtains, you shuffled in the bed, grabbing hold onto the sheets. Your arm laid on a toned chest and your back pushed against another chest. You slowly sat up, rubbing your blurry eyes, An arm from behind you pulled you back down, giggling in your ear.
“Mmm, good morning, y/n,” Hoseok whispered, his voice hoarse. As you stared at him, you couldn’t help but gawk at his good looks despite just waking up. His hair was a mess yet it parted on top of his forehead beautifully. His hoarse voice sent tingles down your body as you leaned into his embrace.
“Good morning, Hoseok.” You murmured, earning a kiss on the neck.
You yelped as you felt another pull behind you. As you turned your head, you were greeted with a poof of hair coming from Yoongi’s head. He had a scowl on his face as he nudged his face into your neck.
“Don’t hog her all for yourself…” He mumbled, his voice much lower than how he regularly spoke.
“Are your voices okay?” You asked, concern lacing your voice.
“They’re alright, y/n. I think it’s just cause we never got that vocal before…At least for me.” Hoseok winked teasingly.
You hid your face in your palms, your whole body heating up. The more you thought about the night before, you couldn’t help but be embarrassed. You just slept with your company’s director and manager, who were married to each other. There was something in you that couldn’t get over that. However, both men let out protests as they clawed at your hands.
“Don’t hide your beautiful face, y/n~” Hoseok whined, trying to pull your hand off.
“Let me see youuu…” Yoongi pouted, his chin resting on your shoulder.
They both tickled your sides as you squirmed around to which they immediately pried your hands off.
“Victory is!” Hoseok shouted.
“Ours!” Yoongi chirped, even getting himself excited.
The two boys rested their heads on each side of your bare body, leaving small kisses over your skin. You brushed through Hoseok’s hair as he dove straight from your neck and shoulder.
“...Love you…” You heard them mumble as their kisses became more heavy and rough.
You felt Yoongi’s hand grip your chin, turning you to face him. He connected his lips with you sloppily as saliva spilled down the side of your lips. His lips tasted of rich lavender and a hint of peach. Hoseok intertwined both of your legs together, marking your skin.
Both men squeezed each one of your hands three times as they sighed in bliss.
“Why’d you squeeze it three times?” You asked, looking back at your hand.
“It’s our secret message to each other,” Yoongi mumbled, turning over to face you.
“What does it mean?” You asked as both Yoongi nudged his head on your chest.
Hoseok kissed the top of your forehead and then your cheek.
“It means, ‘I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’”
Your cheeks heated up as you hid your face into the pillow. Hoseok only stared warmly at you.
“You’re the one for us, y/n. We’ll figure things out in the end. Let’s just enjoy the ride. Together~”
[ Part Two ] 
2K notes · View notes
wanderingcas · 5 years
Text
Safe and Sound. Commission for @starsmish 3.5k words
. . . 
Castiel leans back against the wall adjacent to the men’s bathroom, looking down at the watch-face poking out of his sleeve. People stare at him curiously as they filter in and out of the restrooms. Castiel smiles politely back, all the while keeping his eyes trained for a specific face: one with bright green eyes, a jawline that Castiel is positive would cut glass, and dusty blonde hair. 
He was assigned to Dean Winchester approximately two weeks ago. What Castiel originally thought was going to be a low-key assignment, protecting Lawrence’s newly-appointed councilman is turning out to be one of his more difficult cases. 
The first red flag is that Dean’s family hired Castiel without informing Dean at all. According to the family, Dean had been receiving death threats from an alt-right group so cleverly named “the Trumpers” because of Dean’s very liberal agenda in his politics. The family was concerned. Castiel assumed that Dean was also concerned. 
But when Castiel walked into the room and saw Dean for the first time, saw the equal parts of surprised and pissed off look on Dean’s face: that was Castiel’s second red flag. 
He checks his watch again. It’s been 20 minutes. 
“Goddammit.” Castiel pivots and swings through the bathroom door. He opens each empty stall. He does a useless circle around the empty bathroom. 
“God damn it,” he says again, voice echoing off the tiles.
. . . 
It isn’t hard to find Dean, as the workaholic councilman is parked where he usually is: his office.
Castiel smacks a styrofoam cup onto Dean’s desk. Drops of cold coffee spring to liberate themselves through the plastic lid’s opening. “You forgot this.” 
Dean’s eyes barely leave his computer screen. “Mm,” he replies. He picks it up; sips. Grimaces. “That’s disgusting.” 
Sitting in a chair across from Dean’s desk, Castiel says, “Yes, Dean. That’s because it’s cold. Because you left it. Hours ago.” 
“Huh,” Dean says.
“When you left a location without informing me,” Castiel continues to explain. “Again.” Dean still doesn’t look up. “That’s dangerous,” Castiel adds.
“Uh-huh.” 
Castiel kicks the desk with the toe of his foot, making it rattle. “Are you even listening to me?” 
Dean finally takes his hands off the keyboard, folds them in front of him. “Cas. I have more important things to do than listen to you bitch about how you failed at your job. Again.”
“You can’t keep running away from me,” Castiel says tightly. “I can’t keep you safe if you’re constantly running away.”
Dean leans back in his chair, laces his fingers behind his head. “I dunno, I’d call it more like… walking briskly. Not my fault that you’re too slow.” 
“I was waiting for you.” 
“Huh. Didn’t see you.” 
“I was waiting,” Castiel continues, leaning forward, “as I was all the other times when you’ve attempted to ditch me. During that press conference on Wednesday, at every grocery store you go into, at the restaurant last night—” 
“Well, you being on my date was a little weird, to be fair,” Dean says.
“Dean.” Castiel pinches the bridge of his nose. “You hired me to protect you. I can’t do that if you won’t allow me to do so.” 
“My family hired you,” Dean corrects, “and based on some stupid disorganized Trump fanatic group that couldn’t even find their own ass if it was handed to them. Nothing’s gonna happen, okay? I’m keeping you around to make my brother chill out. That’s it. I don’t need your damn protection.” 
“I disagree,” Castiel says. “I’ve been monitoring tagged posts with your Twitter username, and some of them are violent death threats. From multiple extremist groups. Additionally, you did a very poor job at hiding the letter you received that depicted a very graphic drawing of you getting eaten alive by hellhounds.” 
“But that’s all they are, Cas,” Dean says. “Threats. Nothing’s actually happened. You’ve been up my butt for weeks; have you seen anyone stalking me? Confronting me personally?” At Castiel’s reluctant dissenting head shake, Dean says, “See? It’s fine. Nothing to worry about.” 
Castiel hasn’t known Dean long, but he can identify three qualities in him: stubborn, handsome, and fiercely loyal to his family. Castiel straightens in his chair and plays his last hand “Elections are coming up,” he says. “That’s when people get most heated. And if you’re ignoring the seriousness of the situation, there may be an attack on you that could get multiple people hurt if it’s not intercepted. Like the woman you were on a date with last night.” Castiel takes a breath, attempts to hit home. “Or your family.” 
It has the desired effect: Dean’s face becomes stormy and still. He slowly points a finger at Castiel, jabbing with it in the air. “Don’t you dare bring my family into this.” 
“I am not doing so. The people who are threatening your life will.” 
Dean sits, stone-faced, until an unheard noise makes Dean snap to attention. “All right, Cas. You wanna play it like that? Then here’s what I think: you’re bad at your job. It’s why you work as an independent contractor who costs next to nothing to hire. You’re shitty at your profession, and you’re blaming me for it. I’m not a ninja, and yet I slip past you every goddamn time. You think that’s a coincidence?” 
Castiel clenches the fabric of his pants, bunched at the knees, willing himself not to take the bait. “If this whole thing is some sort of ridiculous self-punishment—”
“Where the hell did you pull that out of your ass?” Dean scoffs.
“—from that attack last year that hurt your brother, instead of you, because he got caught in the crossfire—”
Dean says, voice raised and sharp, “Don’t you dare bring that up, you son of a—”
“You could really get hurt, Dean!” Castiel shouts above him. “This isn’t a damn game. No matter what your problem is with me, or with having protection in the first place, you have to face the facts.” 
They stare at each other in a moment of silent standoff. The hallway beyond Dean’s office’s open door has gone tensely quiet. 
Dean stands and pushes his chair back harder than necessary. “I did a little digging on you too,” he says, a little too calmly. “You were fired from the former Secretary of State’s detail because you made a mistake on the job. It’s classified, obviously, but I’m willing to bet it had to do with that bomb making its way to the East Wing. Am I on the right track?” 
Castiel clenches his jaw. “The whole security detail was fired,” he says. “Not just me.” 
There’s a flicker in Dean’s expression—a softness that Castiel had not seen yet from him—but it’s gone as fast as it occurred. He replaces it with a condescending smile. “Pretty hard to protect anyone properly after that piss-poor mistake, huh?” 
Something in Castiel’s chest splinters. “All right,” he snaps, the backs of his knees smacking the chair as he stands. “Message received. I’ll resign from protecting you, effective immediately. You won’t be hearing from me again.” 
“Peachy,” Dean shoots back. He falls back into his chair, trains his eyes once again onto the computer screen again. 
Castiel has his hand on the knob, clenching it so hard it could shatter. “Whatever your opinion of me is; I hope you think about what I said.” He turns the knob sharply against the silence behind him, says, “I don’t want to see you get hurt,” before slamming the door behind him.
He takes the stairs that are down the hall from Dean’s office. His feet hitting the metal stairs echo sharply in the empty space. Striding through the lobby of the office building, he narrowly avoids connecting shoulders with a group of men who are walking quickly in the other direction.
When he gets outside, he doesn’t know what to do. He pulls his scarf against the wind. As is the theme of the week, people look at him strangely as he stands there, staring down at the sidewalk. The sun begins to slump in the sky. 
“Idiot,” he says to the ground, as if to explain. “He’s a goddamn idiot.” 
Despite this, he knows he has to go back in. 
He’s clenching and unclenching his hands, indecisive, until his phone begins vibrating violently in his coat pocket. He scrambles to take it out with his stiff fingers and pulls off a glove with his teeth so he can hit the green button on the touchscreen. “Hello?” 
“Cas—” says Dean’s voice, cut off by something that sounds like static. 
Castiel holds the phone closer to his ear, listening intently. “Dean? Hello?” 
“Cas—” says Dean’s voice, again, this time more desperate. It sounds like some sort of fabric is being rubbed against the receiver, making the connection fuzzy. A few odd thuds are heard over the receiver. 
“Dean, what’s going on? Where are you?” He hears Dean’s voice again, but this time it’s not forming a word—more like a cry. The realization of what’s happening dumps over Castiel like cold water. 
“Fuck,” Castiel says. 
Like a shot out of a gun, he whips around and bolts through the revolving doors. He holds the phone to his ear like a lifeline with one hand, pushing people out of the way with the other. “Dean, hang on!” he shouts into the phone. “I’m coming, just hang on! Call the police, tell them to come to office 202!” he barks at the bewildered doorman as he sprints by. 
He was only gone for ten minutes, he thinks desperately. Or twenty. How long was he standing outside?
Castiel dashes into the stairwell he used earlier to leave. As he begins sprinting up the stairs, he hears the grunts and thuds he heard over the phone become a reality.
Castiel throws his phone aside and increases his speed, taking two stairs at a time. He sees a group of men all huddled around one broken one. He jumps at the back of one of the men, barely slowing his sprint, knocking him to the ground. 
Seeing Dean bleeding and curled up on the ground brings out something primal in Castiel. He kicks a man over the railing, barely hearing the thump that follows. He punches a man with one fist and pivots to scissor-chop a man’s neck with the other. Castiel barely sees how many people there even are, barely stacks the odds in the fight: he just knows that Dean is in danger, Dean needs to be helped, Dean needs protection. 
Among the chaos, Dean has teetered to his feet and is fighting beside Castiel, landing the occasional second blow after Castiel deals the real damage. Castiel grabs Dean by the arm, leading him toward the door that opens to the hallway. He fumbles for his taser, aiming and firing at a man running toward them. 
“Go to your office and lock the door,” Castiel tells Dean, already pushing him into the hallway. He sees an argument in Dean’s eyes; Castiel barks, “Go!” 
. . . 
In the end, one man against six is a bit stacked, even for a trained bodyguard. He’s caught in a headlock and can barely see out of his left eye by the time the police arrive. 
As soon as his neck is free, the police shouting at the assailants to get on the ground around him, he stumbles into the light of the hallway and runs toward Dean’s office. 
He finds Dean with the EMTs, a blanket being put around his shoulders, a stretcher prepared for him to be taken to an ambulance downstairs. 
Castiel stands in the doorway, waves off the medic trying to treat him. “Focus on the councilman,” he snaps. 
Castiel walks beside the stretcher as they wheel Dean out of the building; Castiel can tell that Dean is pretty hurt since he barely protests to the special treatment. 
When Dean reaches for Castiel’s hand, he decides that Dean is downright delusional; nonetheless he grabs Dean’s hand tightly, refusing to let go during the whole ambulance ride to the hospital. 
. . . 
“Cas.” 
Castiel raises his head from where it’s cradled in his hands. His delirious mind mistakes the voice for Dean’s; a few blinks into the fluorescent hospital lights confirms that it’s Sam Winchester looming before him. 
He feels a whole new wave of shame overtake him. “Sam.” Castiel wipes a shaking hand over his face. “God. I don’t know how to—” He stutters out a breath. “How is he?” 
Sam sits in the plastic chair next to Castiel’s. “He’s stable. A few broken ribs, concussion… nothing too serious, though. They’re going to keep him overnight for observation.” 
Castiel nods. He can’t sit still, has a weird tremor in his leg. “I am so sorry,” he whispers. 
“How long have you been here?” Sam asks. 
It’s a ridiculous question that Castiel couldn’t care less about the answer to. “I don’t know. What time is it?” 
“They brought Dean in six hours ago,” Sam says. “I got on a flight as soon as you called me.” 
Castiel nods numbly. He doesn’t even remember that phone call. Or where his phone is now. 
“Cas.” Sam puts a hand on Castiel’s shoulder; he flinches at the touch. “Have you had anyone look at you?” 
“There was a nurse,” Castiel says. He vaguely points to his swollen left eye. “Stitches.” He can’t meet the younger Winchester’s eyes. It makes no sense that Sam’s being gentle or caring to someone who so tragically and stupidly let his older brother down. If anything, Sam should be shoving lawsuit papers underneath Castiel’s nose.
“They arrested all the guys that attacked him,” Sam says. He huffs a laugh. “Although the majority of them had to be hospitalized, too, after the number you did on them.” 
Castiel clears his throat against the scratchiness that’s rising up in it. “Dean fought back, too.” 
Sam chuckles, shakes his head. “Of course he did.” 
They sit in silence, as nurses and white coats and stretchers scurry by. Castiel keeps his eyes on the scuffed linoleum floor that’s yellowed with age.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Sam says, shattering the silence. 
Sharply rising to his feet, Castiel says, “Don’t.” 
Sam stands with him. “Seriously, Cas, it wasn’t. Dean was being difficult. He ignored the dangers—and you can probably tell by now how freaking stubborn he is. I’m honestly surprised you lasted this long with him.” 
“I should have stayed by his side, no matter how much he complained,” Castiel says. “It’s part of the job. I didn’t do my due diligence, I didn’t protect him, I didn’t even see this attack coming—”
“Cas, whoa, slow down.” Sam puts a hand on his shoulder again, pulls him to face him. “These guys that attacked Dean aren’t even an alt-right group that was contacting him with those death threats. It was a completely random attack. They saw Dean go into the building and they impulsively decided to go in.” He looks imploringly at Castiel. “I don’t blame you, not even for a minute. And neither does Dean.” 
Castiel feels something thrum through him. “He’s awake?” 
“Yeah. And he’s asking for you. That’s why I came out here.” 
“I don’t—” Castiel shakes his head. “I don’t think I can—”
“I think he wants to apologize,” Sam continues, “Which for Dean is … well, frankly, a minor miracle. So don’t pass up this opportunity, okay?” 
Castiel looks for a moment at Sam’s reassuring smile. “I’ll go,” he finally relents. “At the very least to apologize to him.” 
“Whatever makes you two stubborn idiots talk to each other,” Sam says with a gentle pat on Castiel’s back. 
Dean’s hospital room is a private room with a security guard stationed in front of it. Castiel doesn’t meet the guard’s eyes as he walks in. 
Dean is on the bed, hunched over a sprawl of papers on his lap. He’s shirtless, bandages wrapped around his bare torso.
Castiel stands there for a moment, mouth open, staring at the scene. “What the ever-loving hell are you doing?” 
Dean looks up. “Hey, Cas,” he says with a lopsided grin. 
“‘Hey, Cas’?” Castiel spits out. “Are you kidding me? You’re doing work?” Dean opens his mouth to argue, barely gets a word out before Castiel is striding over to him and snatching the papers from him, dumping them on the floor. “And you shouldn’t be half-naked in a hospital where you can catch a cold,” Castiel continues, snapping Dean’s hospital gown in the air before depositing it on his head. “Put that on.” 
“Jesus, fine,” Dean tentatively putting his arms through the sleeves, wincing at the disturbed bruises on his skin. “I didn’t realize Sam hired a nanny instead of a bodyguard.” 
Castiel sits in the chair adjacent to the bed, bristling. “I won’t have you getting hurt on my watch again, Dean,” he snaps. “Not for the last few hours I’m in your employment.” 
Dean blinks. “Are you quitting?” 
Castiel looks at him incredulously. 
“Okay, yeah. Well, I probably owe you an explanation.” Dean shifts minutely in his bed. “And an apology.” 
Seeing Dean vulnerable deflates Castiel from any anger. “No, I have to apologize. If I had been there—”
“But you weren’t, because I pushed you away, Cas. The things I said to you…” Dean rubs at the eye that’s not bandaged, huffing out a sigh. “I said those awful things because I knew pissing you off wouldn’t make you go away; hurting you would. I know how to find people’s weak spots and apply pressure. It’s why I’m in politics I guess.” 
“It’s not like the things you said to me weren’t true,” Castiel says softly. “You’re right in that I did get fired. That I failed at my job. Similarly to how I failed at this one.” 
“No, Cas, that’s not it. You’re human, okay? But I just—” Dean pauses. Frowns down at his hands clasped over the thin, blue hospital blanket. “Sam was attacked last year. You know that. He didn’t get hurt, but—those people were after me. And I didn’t protect him. My whole life, it’s just been me and Sam against the world. I always protected him, kept him safe, and last year I realized that I just… can’t anymore.” He laughs, but it’s humorless. “It was fucking depressing.” 
Castiel blames it on the lack of sleep when his hand reaches out and gently grasps Dean’s arm. “Dean…” 
“And then Sam hires you because he thinks that I can’t take care of myself, and I just saw red. I saw you as this, I dunno,” Dean waves a hand in Castiel’s direction, “physical manifestation of everything I can’t do: take care of Sam or even myself from a bunch of crazy lunatics. I took it out on you. And I’m sorry.” 
Tightening his grip on Dean’s arm, Castiel says, “I shouldn’t have left you.” 
“It’s not your fault, Cas. Seriously. I don’t blame you for a second.” Dean wraps the hospital gown tighter around himself. “I blame myself, for being a coward. Not really facing the dangers that are out there.” 
Castiel shakes his head. “Dean—”
“I know there’s bad people on both sides,” Dean says, words rushing forward. “I just wanted to… I dunno. Be one of the good guys. Be brave.” 
“You are brave,” Castiel says. “You’re assertive in your beliefs, you don’t back down from your opinions just because someone dissents. That’s brave.” 
Dean shrugs, pondering on that for a minute. The heart rate monitor beats a steady thrum in the silence. “That means a lot,” he finally says. 
“Good. Because it’s true.” Castiel adds, firmly, “And protecting you has been an honor.” 
There’s a rise of color on Dean’s cheeks; he chuckles, “Jesus, Cas, buy me dinner first.” 
Castiel smiles. He pulls his hand back; as he does, Dean grabs it, just as firmly and decisively as he did while riding in the ambulance just hours before. 
“I’ve been an ass,” Dean says, “and I would understand if you don’t want to. But honestly, Cas, I want you around.” 
Castiel tries to take his hand back, but Dean holds tighter. “No, Dean. I think you’re incorrect. I wouldn’t keep you safe, I’d just—”
“I was safe until I pushed you away,” Dean says. 
Castiel can’t argue with that. He looks away from Dean’s green eyes are imploring. “I suppose that’s true,” he admits.
“I won’t do that again,” Dean says, “seriously. I’ll let you do your job. If I promise not to keep trying to dodge you, and at least, uh—try to be less stubborn and make your life easier… would you—” 
It’s the lack of sleep, Castiel thinks, it must be, because his mouth is moving and is interrupting Dean to say, “Yes.” 
Dean gapes at him. “You really want to—”
“Yes,” Castiel says again. More sure this time. He squeezes Dean’s hand tighter. “If you promise not to leave me standing in front of bathrooms again as you climb through the windows, then yes, I will stay. Keep you safe.” 
The smile Dean gives Castiel is blinding and beautiful, and if Castiel were hooked up to that heart rate monitor, it would be going wild, giving him away. It’s the first real one that Castiel’s since he started protecting Dean.
“I promise, Cas.” 
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tarontherocketman · 4 years
Text
Mr Madden | Madderton Teacher AU | Chapter 2
The sun seeped through the curtains in Richard’s minimalistic decorated bedroom as he stirred awake, willing himself to get up and get ready for his second day as a teacher. The butterflies started to kick in as he fully woke up, partly from the job still being new and scary, and partly from the knowledge that he was going out with Taron that night. Rich forced himself up and out of bed, making his way to the kitchen to shovel cereal into his mouth, then to the bathroom to brush his teeth and freshen up for the day. After getting dressed and taking one last look in the mirror, deciding his appearance was acceptable, he slung his backpack over one shoulder and made the commute to work, heading straight to the staff room to make a coffee to take to his classroom and drink while he prepared for the day. Not one minute after sitting as his desk there was a soft knock at the door, followed by it opening slightly and Taron’s head poking through the opening.
“Good morning, Mr Madden,” he chirped, pushing the door fully open and sauntering over to Rich, seemingly harbouring a confidence that he didn’t have yesterday, as if sharing messages with a kiss at the end the previous night had established a new, less professional comfort zone between the pair.
“Why good morning, Mr Egerton,” Rich mocked in return, an eyebrow raised. Taron laughed softly as he pulled up a chair next to the Scotsman.
“How’s the lesson planning going?” he asked kindly as he leaned in to see Rich’s computer, who turned the monitor around a bit for Taron to see.
“Well, it’s…going,” Rich sighed, not sounding at all confident.
“It’ll get easier trust me, you’ll start to learn what your students do and don’t like, what they respond well to, stuff like that,” Taron advised. Rich nodded along in understanding, reviewing his presentation, trying to visualise it as if he was a student rather than a teacher, now backspacing and retyping phrases where he suddenly wasn’t happy with the wording.
“Any more advice?” he asked Taron, who leaned towards the computer screen more, brushing shoulders with Rich as he did. Rich’s breathing halted briefly at the contact, knowing full well this was because it had been far too long since anyone had touched him further than a quick handshake.
“Colour,” Taron stated bluntly, “it’s simple. These kids love colour, it catches their eye far more than a piece of black and white text. Also putting important information in some sort of bubble or cloud seems to grab their attention and make them remember it. Although I’m saying all this as a Drama teacher, I know History might be a bit harder to get kids interested in, no offence.”
“None taken, it’s genuinely a boring subject if it’s not your thing or it’s been taught to you by the wrong person, hell I found it majorly boring at school! I only got interested in it after leaving school and learning it my own way.”
“What made you get interested in it? You could apply that to your lessons,” Taron suggested. Richard paused for a few seconds to mull over his answer before speaking.
“I think...because the way it was taught to me in school made me think it was just remembering dates and learning about wars, because for some reason I swear that’s all we used to do, and then when I left school I had a friend that went on to do it in university and I discovered through him that it’s more than dates and wars, it’s about culture and society, how much things have changed and why they changed, it’s actually a wealth of knowledge about the whole world and what it means to be human. People also think it’s only about what happened in the past, but it’s not, it’s an insight about what might happen in the future based on what’s happened in the past!” Rich dripped with enthusiasm about his subject, Taron simply sat smiling brightly. “Sorry.”
“Don’t apologise Rich that was amazing you NEED to open with that in class today, it will get the kids inspired!” Taron encouraged, nudging Rich happily who agreed and sincerely thanked Taron for his help, the school bell bringing their moment to an end.
“First class on my own,” Rich declared nervously.
���Good luck! I’ve got 2 free periods now,” Taron boasted, Rich laughed and rolled his eyes. 
“Ah it’s alright for some! Bloody part timers,” he scoffed jokingly. 
“Seriously though, Rich, you’ll do great, they’ll love you!” Taron patted him on the knee and got up from the chair he’d pulled up, putting it back where he found it on his way out, having to wait by the door anyway for a stampede of kids to flood into the classroom and find their seats.
“Good morning everyone,” Rich greeted his class in the most welcoming voice he could as they started to settle. Taron gave Rich a last thumbs up before disappearing out of the door, letting it close slowly behind him as it had one of those mechanisms that slowed it so it wouldn’t slam, or rather, kids couldn’t slam it in anger when they would storm out of a classroom. 
“So guys, I know you all think history’s boring, and you know what? So did I when I was in school!” Richard began his motivational speech, Taron peeked through the door one more time, smiling proudly at his friend. Rich’s voice became quieter and quieter as Taron began to walk down the hall and the door was still closing. 
“It’s more than that, it’s culture and society, how much has changed and why it changed,” he heard Richard say in the distance, nearly out of earshot now, feeling a warm sense of pride inside of him again.
___________________________________________________________________
The bell for lunch rang at last, which of course always caused a commotion of hungry, restless kids all clambering up from their seats to get to the canteen as quickly as possible as if it was going to run out of food or something.
“Alright I’ll see you lot again this time next week, just please try your best with the homework yeah?” Taron called out over the noise.
“Yes, Sir,” a multitude of students mumbled back as they filed out of the classroom. Taron turned to the whiteboard, erasing what he had written through the lesson which was mainly thought clouds about dramatic expression and such. As he turned back around from the board he was taken back by a student still sat at the back of the classroom staring out of the window. A generally slim but ever so slightly plump girl with long blonde hair, pulled back in to a simple high ponytail.
“Uh, you ok Ella?” he asked, walking over to the lone student.
“Yep,” she snapped, forcing a polite smile.
“Why are you still here? You not hungry?” Taron asked softly.
“Nope.”
“Is everything ok?” he asked cautiously. Ella just looked away even more, hiding her eyes that were beginning to well up. Taron noticed and tried to not to make a big deal of it and make her uncomfortable, knowing students don’t like the teachers that freak out and jump down their throat when they’re having an emotional moment.
“Did something happen, Lovely?” he asked gently, keeping his voice low and soft. Ella sat in silence, and Taron let her decide on her own whether she was going to say anything.
“They hate me,” she finally burst out.
“Who?”
“Everyone! The students, the teachers, everyone in this fucking hell hole,” she seethed. Taron ignored the swearing in this particular context and nodded sympathetically.
“I’m sure they don’t, especially not the teachers, I don’t hate you!” he said with a small smile.
“Well maybe not you, but only because you’re the first teacher to acknowledge my existence for something other than picking on me in class while ignoring all the students actually misbehaving. The students definitely hate me though, why else would they trip me up in the halls, throw pens at me in class, call me horrible names,” she said with a shaky voice.
“Aw I’m sorry, Darlin’. Teenagers can be horrible honestly, I remember what they used to say when I was in school, they don’t know when to stop with the vile comments. Most bullies grow out of it when they leave school, the others end up in prison,” Taron laughed before quickly adding, “that was a joke you don’t tell anyone I said that ok?” Ella let out a small laugh, nodding quickly. “As for the teachers, they’re just busy, they have a lot of students to keep an eye out for and it’s a very overwhelming job at times. Always having to figure out who did what, who said this, who said that, we have far too many students to look out for and none of us EVER mean to ignore you or pick on you I promise. Admittedly some of us are more attentive and intuitive than others, I like to think of me as one of those teachers..?” he half suggested.
“Yeah, you’re one of the good ones,” Ella confirmed.
“See! And what about the new History teacher, Mr Madden? Have you had any classes with him?”
“I have History with him next, after lunch,” Ella said.
“Great! Well he’s lovely so I promise you’ll have a good lesson with him. What about final period?”
“Free study period,” Ella replied. Taron shrugged in triumph. 
“There you go! The rest of the day’s agenda sounds pretty good to me,” Taron said as uplifting sounding as he could. Ella laughed quietly.
“Thanks, Sir. What about the rest of lunch break though?” she asked with a heavy heart. Taron thought for a moment.
“Stay here if you want,” he offered. Ella smiled happily, sitting back in her seat.
“As long as you don’t mind me over there working, you’re welcome to escape here any time you need.”
“Thank you, Sir!”
Taron made his way to his computer, sitting down and pulling his phone out first to message Rich quickly.
T: hey there’s gonna be a girl in your class after lunch called Ella be extra nice she’s having a hard time right now, don’t tell her I said anything tho obviously x
Rich: yeah no worries, everything ok?x
T: yeah all good, just got her in my classroom for lunch break, other kids being horrible x
Rich: ah poor girl x
Taron slid his phone back into his pocket, turning back to his computer to get some work done.
“So Ella, who’s your favourite actor?” Taron conversed while typing away.
___________________________________________________________________
The day finally came to an end, meaning Taron and Rich could both get home to get ready for their meet-up that evening. Taron settled on a white t-shirt with a navy denim jacket, black jeans, and white lace up shoes. Richard going for a similar style with black jeans, a navy jumper, a grey long coat jacket and black slightly smarter shoes.
Taron sat at the bar the two had agreed to meet at, sipping at one of the two mojitos he had bought for him and Rich.
“Hey, Taron!” Rich greeted as he approached the table by the window that Taron had nabbed, sitting opposite him.
“Hey! I remember you saying you liked mojitos!” Taron gestured to the drink.
“I do! Thanks T,” Rich said warmly as he tucked his chair in and sipped at his drink.
“How did your motivational History speech go?” Taron asked.
“Oh my god it worked SO well, the kids seemed really engaged after I did it, thanks for the help.”
“Yeah no problem, happy to help,” Taron said, looking into Rich’s piercing blue eyes until the pair got uncomfortable and looked away with a small laugh.
“So, uh,” Rich began, not sure where he was going with it.
“Yeah..” Taron trailed. Rich took a long sip of his drink for an alcohol confidence boost, knowing one glass wouldn’t be enough.
“Fancy another one? On me,” he offered, already standing up ready to go to the bar.
“Love one, thanks!”
Rich wondered to the bar to order two more mojitos, having a mental conversation, kicking himself for being so awkward. It was such a different setting to chatting at school in between lessons or messaging over facebook before bed, this was so raw and real, just the two of them in a nice bar with cocktails and a window seat with a view. It was almost romantic, and neither of them knew exactly what to do in this context or even where each other stood on the matter. Was this just two colleagues meeting for a catch up or something more? Was Taron gay? 
Rich walked back to the table with the drink, mentally telling himself to man up and talk to Taron like a person, instantly taking a long sip of his drink and a deep breath.
“So are dating at the moment? Is that something that you’re-” he blurted out, but stopping himself. Taron- relieved that Rich had broken the ice first- made a low ‘uhh’ sound.
“It’s complicated, I promised myself when I started the job at the school that I wouldn’t get involved in anything like that while I was there, I’m sure you know what students are like by now.”
“Oh yeah definitely,” Rich agreed, nodding. 
“Then of course you had to show up and-” Taron caught himself, realising what he just said. “Oh, I mean, I-”
“Wait are you also..” Rich began tentatively.
“Am I- am I what? Wait, are you?” Taron stumbled.
“Ok ok wait, on three, yeah?” Rich suggested, “one, two-”
“Gay,” the pair said in perfect unison, quickly both sighing with relief and laughing a little to themselves.
“I’m so glad we were on the same page there,” Taron laughed.
“Fuck, me too,” Rich laughed back, still practically catching his breath from relief.
“I did wonder, but you can never assume you know?” Taron admitted, resting his chin on his hand, starting to be able to relax now.
“Yeah of course,” Rich agreed, “so as you were saying, I showed up and-?” he teased.
“Hah, yes, just ignore that yeah?”
“No no, go on,” Rich waved his hand, gesturing Taron to elaborate.
“Ok fine. I met you that day in the staff room and thought ‘oh shit this guy is gonna ruin my vow to not get attracted to another teacher’ and, he did,” Taron admitted, making Rich chuckle in reply to this.
“Oh did I now?” Rich asked suggestively, leaning in over the table closer to Taron, who mimicked this, now looking into Rich’s blue eyes again.
“You did,” he smirked, the two not breaking eye contact. Leaning in again towards each other, getting closer every few seconds, before Taron broke away, leaning back.
“Anyway,” he said as he cleared his throat awkwardly. “God I only met you two days ago,” he laughed nervously. Rich pursed his lips and thought for a moment about his next words. 
“And what an amazing two days it’s been,” he said confidently.
“Indeed it has,” Taron smiled, lifting his glass to cheers with Richard. The full moon now shining right behind them as the night grew later and later.
___________________________________________
Ta-daaaaa, I hope you guys liked it! I said it would be longer this time! So Ella is sort of a side plot I’m throwing in because I wanted to base a character on me and my time in school, I didn’t have any teachers supporting me at my side when I was badly bullied so I suppose I’m maybe sort of living out this fantasy through this fic seeing as I’m still ever so slightly salty about school in general bUT ANYWAY. Hope you enjoyed <3 
Tag list: @taron-eggmcmuffin @coffeetalkbaby
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slash-em-up · 4 years
Text
Marry Your Monsters Pt. 11
What’s that thing they say about the best laid plans?
------------------------------------------------------
Miranda was beginning to understand how Spann had gotten so far in Jesse’s business.
The woman was a terrifying marvel.
After Lisa and Miranda had agreed to do whatever they could to aid Jesse/protect Miranda/fuck up Preston’s hostile take-over plans, Spann had immediately put them to work.
The pair were barricaded in Spann’s office, pouring over every single contract and document Preston had signed or presented in the last three years.
Well, more like, Lisa was scanning the Organization’s archive and Miranda was reviewing the legal-ese.
Spann had also conjured up Miranda’s bag - and she was more than happy to change out of her shredded, sweaty, bloody dress into a pair of clean jeans and a tee-shirt. Feeling more like an actual person than she had in several hours, Miranda was fully focused on the screen before her - absorbing each tiny detail of the documents and noting anything even slightly suspicious on a notepad. She had nearly filled this one. Preston had been a very busy boy.
It also offered an emotionless peek behind the curtain of The Organization’s dealings - which was the only way Miranda felt she could process things right now. Even so, as dispassionately as it was laid out, it was still hard to read.
God, how could she have been so blind?
She’d been married to a serial-killer for over four years and she hadn’t suspected a thing. It would have been embarrassing if it wasn’t so damn sad.
Throughout their engagement and their marriage, Jesse had seemed dead-set on keeping his promise to make her the happiest woman in the world; and when he’d asked if she’d thought about having a baby she hadn’t hesitated. They’d be the perfect family.
Of course, every couple had their problems - she just hadn’t expected the gilded glow of her own to tarnish in quite the way it had.
It would have been so much easier if he’d just been having an affair.
Her train of thought was interrupted by Lisa laying a gentle hand on her shoulder.
“Hey, you doing okay? Do you need a break?”
Miranda gave the dark-haired woman a small smile. Maybe it was because they were in very similar situations; but she’d immediately taken a liking to Lisa.
“No, I think the work is helping me stay sane right now; but I’d kill for a cup of coffee.”
Miranda winced. Well, she couldn’t use that particular hyperbolic statement anymore.
Lisa grinned, giving her stomach a look, then raising an eyebrow back at the blonde.
“And would that be spiked or…”
A small chuckle escaped as Miranda looked woefully down at her pregnant belly.
“Spiked, with a side of jalapeno poppers. It’s been a hell of a day.”
Lisa laughed.
“I’ll get you some hot water and lemon. Basically the same thing, right?”
“Right.”
The other woman left, leaving Miranda to return to the contract she’d been perusing.
She was interrupted again as a loud electronic shrieking sounded out from the hall speakers.
Reflexively, her hands shot up to cover her ears until the reverberating sound of a tearful female voice echoed over the din.
‘Mom! Mom… I don’t…where I… find… PLEASE!’
Fuck, fuck, fuck…
Miranda stood, pacing as quickly as she could toward the office door before coming to an abrupt halt.
This was exactly the kind of thing that would get her killed… or captured… or whatever the fuck Preston wanted with her. Honestly it was like a badly written action movie. Female lead goes off and does something stupid - gets herself taken - hero comes in, guns blazing and saves the day.
The summer blockbuster formula almost made her gag. And she very much doubted that Jesse would be in the rescuing mood if her grand scheme ended with whoever he’d kidnapped escaping.
Miranda paced the room, biting at her thumbnail, waiting as long as she could for some kind of sign that she should take action.
A loud scream echoing down the hall clinched it.
She was about to do something very, very stupid.
-------------------------------------------------------
Jesse sincerely hoped he never had to play poker with Spann. She would win, hands down.
They both sat in Jesse’s office as Spann assisted him in the now pitifully difficult job of shaving his head.
She’d found him standing over the razor and steaming bowl - bare-faced and glaring down at them, trying to work out how he was going to be able to do this himself.
Mirrors were for people with faces… and potentially hazardous self-grooming was for people with two functioning eyes.
God he really was pathetic.
Preston’s assistants face had been blank and still as she’d asked to shave him; which was probably the only reason he hadn’t gutted her simply for walking in on him.
She hadn’t offered him pity or framed it as her ‘helping’ him.
He appreciated that.
It also gave him an opportunity to check in on what his traitorous fixer was up to.
‘It’s not the mask that’s intimidating… it’s the man behind it…’
While Jesse did actually agree with the statement, the fact that is was coming from Preston was pretty fucking hilarious.
‘Kills three people and he thinks he’s Michael Myers…’
“He’s mocking you now? He decides who lives or dies?” Spann sounded disgusted.
‘It’s time for a change in personnel, just not the one Preston wants.’ Jesse signed, tilting his head so Spann could scrape the sharp metal over his temple.
The woman didn’t pause in her careful movements; but Jesse could see the slight tilt of her lips as she absorbed his words.
“You’re making the right decision.”
She gently toweled the soap from his scalp, running her hands over it to check her work.
“This will all go smoothly.”
Jesse stood from the chair, towering over the small woman who’d just earned her place at his right hand.
‘Take care of it; but leave Preston to me.’
Spann smiled.
“Yes, sir.”
Stepping over to his computer, Jesse took great joy in telling Preston he was out - Spann leaning just barely out of the camera’s eyeline to appreciate the look of shock and horror on Preston’s face before he casually flicked his camera off.
If the pair had been paying a little closer attention to their other screen, they just might have seen a shape move awkwardly out from behind a coffin and make their way slowly closer to Jessica and Tommy.
-------------------------------------------------------
This was a bad idea, this was a bad idea, this was a bad idea…
Miranda could have slapped herself for being so impulsive. What the hell was she thinking? Even on her best days she was far from sneaky, and it was even harder to slink around when you couldn’t see the floor to avoid tripping hazards.
She bent down as low as she could to hide behind an open casket lid while she waited for Preston to finish talking to a half-naked girl.
Miranda winced in sympathy as Preston got close to the poor kid. She looked terrified, and with good reason.
The boy Preston had dragged in looked like he was down for the count too.
She wished she’d taken a moment to grab Jesse’s knife from the office - the damn thing was the definition of ‘style over substance’; but it would have been better than nothing.
Thankfully, she was close enough to hear everything Preston was saying.
He really was that much of a prick, huh?
A surprising surge of protective anger flooded through her as she listened to Preston go off about Jesse.
‘Hey, that’s my fucking serial-killer you’re talking about, asshole!’
Miranda groaned silently.
She’d deal with that particular bullshit after the girl was safely out of here… And then she’d deal with the other flavors of bullshit this whole mess had turned up, not the least of which was protecting her serial-killer from the OTHER serial-killer who was staging the murderer’s equivalent of the Russian Revolution.
“This is gonna be over quick, alright? See one way or another, one of us is going to slice you.”
Preston smashed the boys head into the concrete floor before hoisting him up and walking him over to a large bank of computer screens.
Miranda shifted slightly as Preston spoke casually into the still air.
“Hey boss, you ah, you recognize this kid? He was with the girl in Ashville?”
Oh fuck, that’s why he looked so familiar.
He was the boy from the store. He’d been there when Jesse was trying to kill the prostitute.
She had to get them out. There wasn’t any question in her mind.
A sharp beeping from the largest screen brought Miranda’s attention back to the scene. A familiar silhouette filled it, and what Jesse wrote next was… surprising.
YOUR POSTION AT
THE ORGANIZATION IS
NO LONGER REQUIRED.
Then the screen went black.
Preston stood, frozen, staring at the blank monitor for a few seconds as the two captives sat tearfully at his feet.
When he did move, Preston bent down, muttering something to the pair too low for Miranda to hear, before stepping out of sight.
Miranda made her move.
As slowly and quietly as possible, she slipped out from behind the casket lid.
The sneakers she’d replaced her sandals with made the barest of squeaking noises as she tip-toed over to the bound pair.
It would be a lie to say the comical widening of the boy’s eyes wasn’t a little funny - but she supposed it was fair to say he probably wasn’t expecting an enormously pregnant woman with bruises and a bandaged arm to come to their rescue.
If she’d heard correctly, the girl was legally blind… or almost… so she wasn’t surprised that she was a little slower on the uptick than her fellow captive.
But when the girl did notice Miranda had to jolt forward to cover the girls mouth as she inhaled sharply. She couldn’t risk too much noise, and she offered the girl an apologetic look when she finally lowered her hand.
“Sorry.” Miranda whispered.
“What the fuck?!”
Tommy scooted back on his ass to get a better look at her.
“Jesus, lady what are you doing here?!”
Miranda frowned.
“None of your fucking business. Just know I’m here to help. I’m gonna get you out.”
The girl looked up at her with watery eyes.
“I’m Jess.”
That nearly made Miranda snort. Of course she was. Hopefully Jessica would be less trouble for her than Jesse.
“I’m Tommy.”
“And her name is Miranda.”
A voice from behind caused all three of them to freeze, Jess and Tommy looking fearfully over Miranda’s shoulder.
Fuck. She knew this would happen.
“Hello Preston.”
Miranda stood, turning slowly to face the man in black; making sure to keep the kids behind her.
“Did you come back to clean out your office? I heard you got the shaft. Too bad.”
Preston smiled, showing all his teeth as his hands formed into fists.
“Ah yeah, Jesse gave me my walking papers. But what in the world are you doing down here?”
Miranda circled as Preston did, making sure he always stayed in her direct line of sight.
“Me? Oh, you know, bored housewife. Emphasis on the bored. Thought I’d take a little stroll.”
Casually, Preston pulled a familiar bladed tool from his belt, making Miranda’s heart beat faster.
“Well, I’m so glad we could run into each other like this. Pretty fortuitous.”
“…Oh?”
“Mmhmm… see, I think this is gonna go one of two ways. Either your hubby is going to come down here to the rescue - at which point I’ll cut his ugly face off again - and make it stick. OR he won’t, and I’ll carve the fucking baby out of you and let Jesse deal with the clean-up. Either way, it’s time for a little payback.”
As soon as the words left his mouth, Preston charged.
Miranda screamed, uncaring if the whole facility heard her, and ran.
She moved as quickly as she could back towards the hallway, nearly grasping the handle before Preston was on her.
His arms wrapped tightly around her chest as they rammed into the metal, making her yelp in pain and wrap her hands protectively around her stomach as she writhed in his grip, trying everything she could to break free.
Her foot collided with his knee, causing him to hiss out a curse and momentarily loosen his grip.
Miranda shifted, trying to use her weight to unbalance him; but it was too late.
One hand wrapped unforgivingly into her hair and Preston slammed her head into the metal door once, twice, three times until Miranda’s vision began to fade and her muscles relaxed.
The last thing she saw before everything went black was the steady red blinking of a security camera.
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