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jboofan · 2 years

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There's something about Manager Kim part 20

1 month ago..

"Are you going to be home for dinner?"Yoongi called out to her as she headed off to work.

Looking back, YN wished she'd realised the signals.

It was the day before Jimin's infamous dentist appointment.

YN paused. "I don't know. If I come home early to eat dinner, I don't get to work."

"You make it out like it's a bad thing," Yoongi pointed at the kitchen behind him. "I can make us thai tonight, if you like?"

He noticed she hesitated. And he did not want to spend an evening alone again.

"I'll make prawn crackers too?" he offered.

Every evening since they got married had been like this.

"Sure," she managed, this time grabbing her handbag and making it to the door. She watched him smile at her, which was rather unexpected and YN wasn't sure what she should do about it.

She shook her head as she got into the waiting car. It was when she got to work that she realised she was going to have to do something about this routine they had fallen into.

It was too easy, too comfortable and too fake.

But hot damn, the man could cook.

Yoongi couldn't understand why he asked her every morning if she'd be home for dinner. YN had turned this night owl, who only knew the four walls of his studio, into a domesticated cat.

YN looked like someone who lived off coffee or celery juice, and he had to admit before he started cooking for her, that was her diet. But man did she look good, sitting on that bar stool, her work jacket slung across the back of it after she'd walked in every evening tired but still surprised when he has good food on the table waiting for her.

Ever since he met her, she had always eaten with such gusto it made him feel full just watching her finish the meal he put together for her.

Yoongi figured she owed her figure to the fact she never sat still, and burned it all off. But often to her own detriment. She didn't eat on time the rest of the day and Yoongi was pretty sure she simply consumed lattes all day long.

He'd promised himself that he would keep his distance from her, but since they slept together their wedding night she has become an obsession to him.

YN was a drug and he couldn't get it out of his system. But the more he failed to not want her, the more she kept talking to him like a co-worker or worse, someone that worked for her.

A frown appeared across YN forehead that lunch time.

"If you keep frowning, you're going to get wrinkles on your forehead," Secretary Kim sang.

The fact that Secretary Kim had to remind her of her important meeting with Zico that afternoon, she knew she was losing that laser focus that had made her an investor, built her wealth and her success.

YN wasn't someone that clock watched, wanting to go home on time, until she got her work done. But since marrying Yoongi, she was one distracted woman. A woman willing her day away, so she could go home and see the man waiting for her.

And for what? To go home and eat dinner with a man who either annoyed the hell out of her, or confused her in equal measure?

As YN went over her strategy to win over Zico, finance a new album, show appearances even a tour, she realised she was looking at this whole Yoongi situation wrong.

She'd been living in this country too long, where everyone was polite, always afraid to say what they meant and in her case, had been abiding to Yoongi's rules with such passiveness YN wondered where her backbone had disappeared to.

YN had grown too dependant on Yoongi; his house, his food and his money.

Rules were there to be broken, or bent until they suited her. That's how she made her billions, that's how she made her life work.

And what did YN do best on the world?

She analysed. She took risks. She invested and got as a result, a damn good return.

"I can do this. He is just another company," she recited.

She'd hope to drive home, and put her plan into action; she wasn't going to submit to his rules anymore. She was going to figure out how the hell she could fast forward this VP journey, get her title and get on with her life.

But instead she'd made the trip to the dentist to pick up Jimin and find out that Yoongi had skipped the office for lunch with his ex. Who apparently was getting married.

As Yoongi walked in, the day after, flustered and upset that she hadn't come home, her foolish heart had fluttered. It thought he was worried for her, but instead he refused to see why eating with his ex was the worst thing he could have done to her.

As YN stared at his face, she realised she had to do something about this problem of hers. He took one hell of a risk that afternoon in McDonald's and it wasn't a calculated one.

But before she could face that problem, he had marched into her office weeks later and demanded she come back to the house, or he would move into Jin's.

Her last safe place.

Things were going to change. And they were going to change now.

She agreed to model, but that's wasn't enough for her. It wasn't going to fix her issues. Speed dialling her father, she waited as the call connected and heard him answer rushed.

"YN?"

"Dad when am I getting this job?"

"What do you mean?"

"When am I getting the VP role. When is it being announced? You wanted me married, and now I am."

"I know you're eager to take over, but the next general meeting isn't until next month. Just do what you're doing, push hard and then we have something to go to the board with in a few weeks."

"Ok, that's fine. I can wait a few more weeks. I'm going to get Zico, I've got a fashion show and I'm trying to bring a new investor onboard for our new e-commerce platform," she explained.

"Well done," her father was proud and he told her so. "Smash all that out the park and the board will have no choice but to fast track you!"

No sooner had the call ended, that her thoughts went to Yoongi. She was on to him.

Only a pabo would continue to live that falsely domesticated dream. She worked all day, slept next to him at night and was lured home by his delicious food every evening.

Suddenly the man had no work to do, and wasn't going to let her do any either. Yoongi was sucking her into his world, and she wouldn't be able to survive if she doesn't try and do something about it.

He was feeding the wild animal until he tamed it, and locked it in his precious house.

YN's heart beat was speeding up and slowing down erratically as she saw Yoongi come backstage with the boys.

The worst part was, she knew she had bought it on herself. She needed his money, his house, his last name. She'd profited from him, and she knew in her heart it wasn't ethical nor was it something that should continue.

YN had no one else to blame but herself. He needed a fiancé and she'd turned up with his passport in Busan, and as an answer to his prayers. And now she was reaping what she had sown. She thought she'd get freedom if she married him, but the opposite seemed to have occured instead. He'd simply tamed her, and she let him.

She knew, the night she stared at the stars, and Yoongi had stared at her, ending with one hell of kiss that she had known.

YN had known as she gazed back onto his eyes, and felt something move inside of her heart, that she was in the deepest trouble of her life.

So she cut him off, and distanced herself from him. He was an employee, her employee and she had to stop playing the fool. That meant not turning up to their team dinners anymore. She wasn't their manager, and there was no valid reason for the chairman to be eating with the band.

There was also no valid reason to go with them to rehearsals, TV stations, promotions or photo shoots.

She distanced herself for a whole month. Moved to Jin's and then eventually, with her trusty secretary decided Korea was too small a place for her. It was time to hit the road, and when she realised Zico was embarking on a US tour, she jumped at the chance to go home - because no matter how much she dressed it up, Seoul was not home.

So she ran away, it was what she was good at, and back to LA. Back to her own people, her own business, and pulled a little of herself back together again. Then she'd chickened out about telling Yoongi how she was feeling in person, so tried to call him instead.

After being unable to get through to him for a few days, she gave up. Especially when he made no attempt either. Figuring he didn't need her anymore, it became easier to sit in her massive office, overlooking central New York and get on with work.

No distractions, no phone ringing because BTS still treated her as a manager instead of a chairman. No messages about having to drop what she was doing to accommodate a dentist appointment or collecting Namjoon from a museum he had gotten himself locked in, or having to actively avoid Yoongi in public, so the world didn't put two and two together, and realise she was married to him.

Yoongi had no idea how to function right now, or how to handle the situation he now found himself in. How was he supposed to act like she was his chairman for the cameras but pissed inside that his wife had all but disappeared for a month, to turn up at the same fashion show he found himself visiting?

At least she doesn't know I've been living like a drunk homeless guy for the last month.

He was ready to read her the riot act, demand she come home. Maybe tell her that he would support her to become VP and once she did, explain that he had real feelings for her. But suddenly he lost all resolve as he watched her.

Mutely, he listened to the boys agree to visit the bar by their hotel later that evening for some pool and beers.

"Smooth dude," Jin side glanced him as Yoongi dabbed his shirt with several tissues.

"Hey sweetheart," Jin grinned moving forward to wrap her in a tight hug, seeing that Yoongi was frozen and hadn't quite got his feet to move one in front of the other.

"Hey Seokjinna," she smiled hugging him back.

"What you been up to?" his eyes crinkled up at the sight of his sister.

"Stuff," she grinned.

"Stuff?" he smirked, "let's have a party to welcome you back, maybe you'll share more details," he wiggled his eyebrows at her.

Namjoon followed up with a hug after as the two of them exchanged quiet words in English.

"It's so good to have you back. He's been a lost cause without you," he smirked.

"I see," she sighed, albeit happily as she realised everyone had turned up today.

Yoongi moved towards her as fast as he could, but Jimin knocked past him unexpectedly running over and excitedly hugging YN. He couldn't help noticing how much happier Jimin was, the two of them had started talking animatedly about his teeth before Jungkook started hollering for her attention next.

"How's ma girl?!" he grinned holding out her hand delicately as they fist bumped. "Girl how you doing?!" he grinned, he couldn't help it.

"I'm good Kookie, you been taking care of yourself?" she fist bumped him.

Hobi was next to greet her, showing an avid interest in the feathers that were adorning part of her last outfit, and wanted to check them out later when she had rested.

"OK me and you need to have a sit down about them feathers. What are they? Synthetic? Real? How you get those feathers so sharp, what is that a glue?" he bombarded her with question after question.

"Boring," Taehyung rolled her eyes at Hobi before smiling back at YN, "How long are you here for? When you coming back?" Taehyung seemed to ask the question on everyone's mind.

YN didn't get the chance to answer as Yoongi moved forward.

"Hey," he stammered.

"I'd say you look good, but someone needs a bib," she pointed to his now slightly damp shirt.

"It was the shock, can't think straight sometimes," he managed quietly enough for her to hear.

YN leaned on the chair beside him. "How've you been?"

God it felt good to take the weight off her feet.

"How do you think I've been?" he answered clipped, gone from angry to agitated. He was frustrated, upset, violated but she got that. She understood.

She'd spent the best part of a month feeling like shit, so God only knew how he felt.

"Hey! She's just being polite—" it didn't take much to wind up Jin these days as he snapped back loudly at Yoongi for his rudeness.

YN looked back at Yoongi and then Jin "Really? Can we just chill?"

Jin sighed dramatically, but YN got it. She'd been a bad sister. Especially since he'd hurt his hand, and she'd not had the decency to check on him.

"Gimme half hour then we'll steal some wheels and can some air in our hair," she smirked and it raised half a smile out of Jin.

It pricked that she hadn't stopped to ask Yoongi how he was, if he had anything planned for the two of them; instead she was off making plans with her brother. Inadequacy reared his head, and before he knew it he was back to his skinny younger self, weak and scrawny. And Jin was the charming one, the one that got all the girls.

Yoongi was jealous. Plain and simple. The air in his lungs burned. He didn't need to be, but she'd blown in with the wind and been able to in a matter of minutes get everyone onside, but barely said more than just a few words to him. He'd struggled to have a conversation with his wife in the last four weeks, yet YN looked like she'd been able to accomplish all that with ease.

"You don't mind if I steal YN for a bit?" Jim pleaded with Yoongi.

"Sure," he smiled moving back.

It's not like I've missed her.

"So you have one conversation with Taehyung and jump on a plane?" he murmured to himself. He didn't mean it to come out as cold as it did, but he couldn't help it.

"I was going to be working the show and Taehyung loves the brand. Besides, was planning on being back soon anyways.." her words fell on deaf ears.

"Where's the rest of your bags," he cleared his throat, "I can grab them for you?" the polite but cold Yoongi was back.

"I didn't bring a whole lot. It's back at my place."

She has a place? It's the first I'm hearing about this.

He walked out the room before she had a chance to reply, Jin too excited to see his sister failed to notice.

"What's wrong with him?" YN looked at Jin clueless.

"What's up your ass?" Hobi smacked the ball into the top right pocket and looked around the pool table for his next shot on target.

"Nothing."

"I'm thinking it's a YN shaped nothing boys," Namjoon joined in.

"What's up? She ain't given you a kiss yet?" Jungkook made smoochy noises as Jin walked in and helped himself to a drink.

"Our Genius Producer here is all whipped up for her," Hobi told everyone, as he missed the blue ball and waited for Yoongi to line up his shot.

"Shut up," Yoongi sighed as he missed a basic shot.

"Noona looked amazing! First our manager, then our boss and a model too? YN is living her best life!" Taehyung was crunching on peanuts loudly now. "I gotta ask her to show me her runway walk."

"Can you not talk about her appearance like that," it made him uneasy when people acknowledged her beauty and prompted his unwanted jealousy. "C'mon guys, she's just trying to do her job."

"You should chill," Namjoon told him, "But man you really getting jealous? Of what Tae just said? The same Tae that cries if you eat his food? The one that can't cook to save his life? Man, you're in a bad way. You ought to get that checked out."

Yoongi couldn't believe that even calm, passive Namjoon was joining in with the jokes at his expense. What happened to having each other's backs? Brothers to the end of the line.

Jimin laughed louder, "Yoongs is simping on main. He just wanted to be tied down for life."

"Hey ain't nothing wrong with that," Yoongi told them. "But it's not like that," he tried to downplay how she made him feel.

"Says the guy who's been waiting for his wife for weeks," Jin gave him a small smile.

Yoongi's thoughts bizarrely went back to how she looked, strutting across the road to their wedding, unashamed, confident and comfortable. Their wedding night made him blush hard, he gulped his beer quickly to hide his embarrassment.

"Can you, just stop talking please," he blushed again.

"Oh snap," Jungkook gasped, "he loves her. Smooth like butter, like a criminal undercover, YN has stolen his heart. Yoongi hyung is in love, she's thawed his heart," he had the biggest grin on his face, no longer able to contain his hysterical laugher.

"Seriously?" Jin asked seriously, not that anyone noticed.

"Of course he does, otherwise why would he marry her?! He loves her obviously," Taehyung sipped his beer, wiping the foam mustache with his tongue.

"Mind you the size of her rock is massive," Namjoon added, "who knew you had such great taste in jewellery!"

"If your ring ain't gonna be big, you better be packing elsewhere," Hobi sang out.

"Really Hobiyah? That's not really tasteful is it?" he looked at him disappointed.

"What? I'm just sayin," Hobi cackled.

"Saying what?" YN asked, walking in.

"Nothing, just if hyung ain't gonna give you a big ass ring, bet he's offering something bigger," Taehyung automatically replied still trying to reach the foam nestled on his nose.

Taehyung saw everyone's deadpan faces, the sheer look of horror upon Yoongi's face, Jin could only making eye contact with the floor, Namjoon pretending to answer a phone call and Jungkook finding his water extremely interesting.

"Oh wow, you nasty," YN helped herself to a big handful of popcorn and couldn't wait to get out of there quick enough. "I ain't having this conversation with y'all."

"Shit we didn't mean it like that, we were just taking the piss outta Yoongi, it was just a joke," Jimin tried to explain.

"Yeah, anywhoo," she looked just as uncomfortable as Yoongi was and turned to leave.

"Baby they were just joking it didn't mean anything. Stay please?" the words tumbled out, as he snapped an arm out quickly to pull her hand back. "Actually let's go," he gave his cue to Jin hastily who waved his bandaged hand back at him confused at how he was supposed to play with one hand.

"It's fine, you don't need to explain anything," she was already half way out the door. There was no smile, no laughter, hell she wasn't even looking at him. The smile and jokes she had for everyone else suddenly weren't good enough for him, and he was becoming annoyed.

Even when he was out of line, she seemed to be the antidote to his stupidity.

"Can we talk? I've not had a minute to myself with you at all today," he touched her elbow to turn her around, "you spent all your time with the boys or Jin."

Her doe eyes looked up at him, "Jin hurt his hand and didn't tell me."

"Oh. Oh! OK, well I can come up and we can order something in. Just talk and stuff if you like? I'll tell the guys to keep it down."

"It's all cool. You don't have to," she smiled as the others tried to carry on the game and not make them feel awkward, which of course made them feel awkward.

He nodded disappointed of course, leaning in instinctively to kiss her, but she edged sideways as he caught her jawline, before she moved awkwardly away the closer he got.

He wasn't expecting her to move away from him like that, the awkwardness was almost unbearable, made worse because she wasn't even looking at him anymore.

"Hey hey hey," he wasn't letting go of her so easily, not when she had been away from him for so long already. "It's been over a month. Can we fix this?"

That smell.

Of jasmine and coconut.

He caught her scent and his brain turned to mush. What the hell was that? OK so he wasn't going to admit that he went into three different perfume shops and had them spray every single scent so he could figure out which one it was she used. He wanted to know that the scent, the attraction that he had to her was purely based on a manufactured bottle of crush and that whilst she was away it would wear off. But it didn't. His attraction to her only seemed to get worse.

Hobi looked on at the two of them and sighed.

"Man thinks it's just a crush."

Jin, in turn looked back at them pitifully. "He's clearly delusional if he thinks he's just got a crush. On his own wife."

Taehyung shook his head as he watched them, joining Jin to nudge him to take a shot at the pool table.

"Why are hyung and YN being weird?"

"None of your business. It's adult stuff," Jin shooed him away.

"Hey," he stood tall, flicking the hair out his eyes, "I am an adult."

"Says the dude who still has to give his wallet to Yoongi to look after when we go out."

"One time!" he stomped off.

YN looked away, smoothed down her t-shirt over full breasts, a flat stomach and a waist Yoongi just wanted to snack on.

Wherever she had been, it had made sure she was tanned and her hair was a rich brown caramel. Her cheeks were rosy pink from blushing, and he remembered how they were that colour after they had sex. Just the thought of it made him start to drool.

"Fine," she said distractedly as her held up her phone , "It's gonna have to wait, that's the Board of Directors," smiling excitedly she cleared her throat and answered as professionally as she could, once again leaving Yoongi standing there.

@craftymoonchaos @bbl3ssy @ireadthensuetheauthors @pb-n-juju @audreonne @larenelizabeth @kyle-told-me-whats-up @alexayoonlee @forvever-ddaeng

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general-du-vallon · 16 days

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Change of plans, this was going to be 8 parts but I think I am done with it so this is the last bit :) Aramis and his babies, modern Portamis au where Aramis has 3 (only 3 per the poll really) babies, he meets porthos. part one is here.

“Can I see you sometime, alone, in the daytime, without any of this lot?” Aramis asked Porthos.

He was lying on the sofa, Porthos had continued on his saviour streak and ‘what’s next for damage control?’ roll, scooping up Hugo, Louis, Marie and Luc, Grace. Paulina was staying, she was eighteen though and had no need for collecting or saviours. She’d only been with Aramis a few months, the daughter of an old, old friend he’d thought dead, who needed help. Unofficial, quiet. She’d come with her mother sometimes, too, afterwards. And then as she grew up, she’d come visiting. It was nice. Now everyone was in the kitchen with Paulina helping her make dinner, drawing, or something else quiet and contained, and Porthos was sat on the floor with his back to the sofa looking through homework and listening in on the kids.

“Hm?” Porthos said, frowning down at someone’s maths.

“I want to see you,” Aramis said. “Alone.”

Porthos looked up at him, surprised.

“To dump me? Are we even dating yet?” Porthos asked, frowning.

“To talk,” Aramis said. “How long do you have Grace, this time? Though if I find a babysitter they could probably have her too.”

“Dunno, Flea’s gone off to Manchester, thinks she’s found Charon. Haven’t told you much about that, have I?”

“No. Maybe another time.”

“Yeah, no, just thinking about what context you need. No knowing how long she’ll be, and if he’s there and comes back, well, he technically lives at mine. Or I live in his flat. Grace stays with me then too sometimes. Depends,” Porthos said. “I dunno.”

“Okay. A babysitter who’s happy to keep an eye on all four of the little ones,” Aramis said.

“And Beep, just in case,” Porthos said.

“Oh yeah, mustn’t forget the cat. Maybe Athos and Sylvie would do it. I’ll ask,” Aramis said.

“Daft question, old thing, never mind. But, am I in trouble?” Porthos asked.

“No. If I had something like that to say, we could have that sort of conversation in the hallway. Perfect place, a hallway,” Aramis said.

“Not fucking you in the hallway,” Porthos said equably, going back to the maths. “Okay. I’m probably free more days than you at the moment, I’m just doing Tesco, my degree stuff is flexible. Pick a few dates, once you find a sitter.”

Aramis shut his eyes, a headache growing. He felt like shit, but it wasn’t as bad as it might have been. Something crashed in the kitchen and Porthos rolled up to his feet, Aramis opened his eyes and saw him get up, graceful and powerful, all muscle and certainty of his own body, moving out to the kitchen to investigate. Aramis waited, heard laughter, and shut his eyes again figuring Porthos could manage for a bit.

Once Athos had agreed, Aramis realised he’d have to formulate a plan. He considered taking Porthos to a cafe or something for about two seconds flat.

Once the children were all ensconced with Athos, Grace looking a bit concerned but relaxing when she realised Luc and Paulina were going to be around, and Hugo had climbed into Athos’s lap, Aramis commandeered Athos’s car. He had to hot wire it to start it, Athos would never lend out his car, especially to Aramis.

“Er,” Porthos said.

“What? You want to walk?” Aramis said. “It’s far.”

“Don’t want to walk. Don’t want to piss off a man willing to babysit, how’ll we ever have sex if he stops saying yes to your requests?” Porthos said.

“Good! You’re a man who thinks with his dick, absolutely my kind of man,” Aramis said.

“I am not ever fucking you in that fucking hallway!”

“You just called it a fucking hallway, aka a hallway for fucking.”

Aramis wasn’t actually invested in having sex in the hallway, but he was endlessly amused that Porthos kept interpreting him as angling for it. The more Porthos said it, the more Aramis took it on as a challenge and badge of honour that was his for the taking, if he was just persuasive enough. He whistled as he drove, one hand on the wheel, window open. Porthos sighed and sprawled against the car window, watching Aramis.

He didn’t ask where they were going, he just followed on when they pulled in and parked up, hand groping for Aramis’s hip. Aramis skipped out of the way and Porthos followed a bit of a distance instead, hands in his pockets, pace steady and unhurried. He came to a halting, skipping stop when Aramis pulled open the big church door.

“What?” Porthos whispered, tiptoeing in after Aramis, taking off the bandana that was wrapped around his hair today, crossing himself. “Thoughts I was having when I stepped in here! Aramis!”

Aramis laughed. Porthos’s whisper echoed. He was lucky no one was in there today, if it had been a day the father was in with a sermon it would have been all the old folks turning their heads to tut. As it was, the church was empty, so Porthos’s dramatics went un-noted by anyone other than Aramis. Aramis noted happily, then wandered over to the font, running his fingers over the stone, eyes still on Porthos, watching him tentatively moving further into the church, looking around, and up. He whistled when he saw the ceiling.

“You brought me to a church to show me a ceiling?” Porthos asked, still at his ridiculous non-whisper.

“I didn’t actually,” Aramis said.

Porthos turned to him, out of place and awkward, not uncomfortable though. Baffled. Aramis let his smile grow. Porthos huffed out a breath, pulled the funniest face, and then held out his arms, at Aramis’s mercy. Aramis liked that. He took Porthos’s arm, linking them together tight, and strolled them down the nape to the altar, and above the altar the old, old wood carving. Jesus on his cross, a beautiful piece of art, the cross not in the best condition, the wood showing through. Aramis sometimes thought the wood was his favourite part. Dark with varnish. There was paint still, faded. Red on his hands and feet and side, his face from the thorns.

“Fucking hell,” Porthos muttered.

“Right?!” Aramis said, pleased by Porthos’s stunned reaction. When he turned, Porthos was looking at him though not the statue. “What?”

“You’re off your rocker,” Porthos said. Aramis grinned, shrugging. “You said you wanted to talk, I thought, I dunno. A coffee shop.”

“Thought about it,” Aramis admitted, tucking Porthos’s arm into his, looking back up at Jesus, and then twisting to cup Porthos’s face and kiss him. “Shall we?”

“I am not fucking you in a church either, Aramis,” Porthos said, back to his hissing whispers.

“Shall we sit, Porthos! To talk!” Aramis said, hand knitted behind Porthos’s head, holding him steady, laughter bubbling up out of him. “I really like you, I really really like you.”

“Oh,” Porthos said.

“I might love you,” Aramis said. “I do love you. I was going to invite you for a sedate coffee, a nice date, ask you out, see if you’d be my boyfriend.”

“Instead you came here, to look at me like you would worship me, in front of your creepy scary Jesus, under a billion eyes in that ceiling painting,” Porthos said, mouth turning up into a smile. He tipped his chin up. “Kiss us, then. What are you waiting for?”

“To talk to you,” Aramis reminded him, but kissed him seeing as he looked like he might be about to fight for it. “I was going to talk to you.”

“Got it. Love, dating, boyfriends, shit like that,” Porthos said. “Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Whatever you want.”

“I want you to fuck me in a hallway.”

Porthos’s breath caught, he swallowed visibly, stepping back from Aramis out of his hold. Aramis followed, then stood still as Porthos backed away more purposefully, staring at him. He bumped into the front pew, stumbled.

“Alright?” Aramis asked.

“Yeah, I’m fine, can we go back home?” Porthos asked. “Now.”

“Of course,” Aramis said. “Car’s that way.”

“I’ll just sit here for a bit,” Porthos said, groping for the pew, then giving up and sitting on the floor. “Yep. Here.”

“Can I sit there, too?” Aramis asked. Porthos nodded so Aramis folded himself down to sit cross legged, back against the pew. They looked up at Jesus. “It’s art.”

“You’re art.”

“Are you having a freak out?”

“Little bit.”

“About?”

“Thought maybe I loved you too.”

“Maybe?”

“I can’t do this. Not- I mean I don’t mean this this. I can’t. I don’t.”

“That was very clear,” Aramis said. They sat for a while. “You could tell him up there, if you can’t tell me. That’s what my mother used to say. She’d bring me here and say tell him, I’ll not listen.”

“Sorry about your injuries,” Porthos said, to the statue. Aramis thought he was being teased, but caught a thread of sincerity, and wondered if Porthos maybe wasn’t so keen on the gory Jesus statue. “Sorry about the scratches and nails and things. Um. I’m a bit scared. Bet you were scared too, right? Being put up there. People chiselling you out of that nice tree.”

Aramis leant his head back against the pew. Porthos talked about the statue more than himself, anxiety about the wood and the lost paint, the blood, coming out of him in streams of words. In between Aramis picked out Porthos’s fear, of losing control, of losing himself, of being left. Love, Aramis picked out, was a painful business for Porthos, and was more often slow and easy than headfirst crashing to church flags.

“You can stop if you like,” Aramis whispered. “When I was little, I used to want to climb up to him, whatever statue or picture or whatever. Get him down, bandage his wounds. I became a nurse because of him.”

“I didn’t know you were a nurse.”

“Not any more. Haven’t I told you about my work? I’m a chaplain. It’s a nine to five job, it’s at the uni, that’s why I was there. It fits close enough with the kids’ holidays,” Aramis said.

“You’re a priest. No wonder you brought me to church.”

“I just wanted to show you the art. Kiss you under the millions of eyes in the painting on the ceiling.”

“Hold my hand instead.”

They sat for a long time, holding hands, quiet settling around them until Aramis started idly humming. Porthos sang along, the tune the same hymn Aramis had, but the words something from a pub on a Friday, Porthos’s deep, light voice resonating. Churches were built with acoustics in mind, and it was like the air hummed, notes long, held in the wood.

parts:

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 [complete]

#portamis #mine #bbc musketeers #porthos #aramis #aramis and the babies

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celamoon · 3 years

Text

Warnings: Crackfic...? almost? abuse victim, nsfw jokes. please be warned

Pronouns: They/them

Summary: Y/n L/n the unhinged genius of Vyn's patients. A mentally unstable being, the result of the Flora X testing. The same unhinged being that was let into the NXX to lead the searching for the drug.

Prompt: This post by @papellie (Ty for the prompt bestie <3)

Vyn did not have any patients he considered impossible. Well, almost none. He had Y/n L/n, the very unhinged chaos that considered his hardest patient. Someone whom one of his old friends had dropped into his hands because they were an impossible case.

Vyn only took the hardest cases, and you seemed to be the worst of his patients.

"Vynnie!" The patient grins at the sight of their favourite doctor. "Vynnie are you here to shove my medicine down my throat again? How about this time you shove your fingers down my throat-"

"Good afternoon Y/n," Vyn ignores your question. "We've changed your medication to a liquid."

"A liquid?" They tilt their head. "But water isn't a medication?"

"There are many more liquids other than water," Vyn smiles while pouring your medicine.

"Do bodily fluids count?"

"They do,"

"So like cu-"

"Drink up," Vyn shoves the cup to them, and they gag at the smell.

"It smells like the flora drug my previous doctors used to force down my throat," they mumble before downing it in one gulp. "You should really add some sugar or honey to the medicine Vinnie, it tastes disgusting."

Vyn freezes at the familiar name.

"What did you just say?"

"That you should really add some sugar or honey Vynnie," They grin.

"Before that."

"The medication smells like the flora drug I used to be forced to take as a child?" They tilt their head.

"Do you know what that drug was called?" Vyn raises a brow.

"Flora... X? Flora X," You mumble. "FLORA X!! Vynnie are you proud of me?"

Vyn's eyes widen in realization. No wonder you were so unhinged, you had been taking the very medication that was made illegal years ago. Which meant you were a lead into one of the dark pasts of Stellis.

"Say Y/n... if I were to let you out of the ward every once in a while... would you be willing to behave?"

"Vynnie I'm about as stable as a paper clip standing up straight." They blink innocently.

Vyn sighs. He would need to discuss with the NXX team about it.

"Which is... why I suddenly think we have a lead on the medication." Vyn concludes.

"Well that sounds reasonable to let her in," Rosa is the first to speak up. "She does have the lead we need,"

"But she's unhinged," Artem cuts in. "She might cause chaos."

"I mean as long as Vyn keeps her calm I think she could give us some useful information,"

"Why can't you just ask her?" Luke asks.

Vyn sighs. "I can't force anything out of her unless she says it herself."

"Is it in the contract?" Marius raises a brow.

"Yes."

"Then just let her join," Marius shrugs. "It's always so serious in here, having someone unhinged might crack some jokes every now and the...n?"

The other three glare at him.

"Well I think we can try meeting her in my office once to see if it works," Rosa pipes up.

"I..."

"Let's meet her in her psych ward," Vyn sighs. "I don't want her to trash your place."

Which brought us to today.

"Vynnie!" Thye grin. "You brought your friends!"

"They're associates," Vyn sighs. "Y/n meet MC, Luke, Artem, and Marius."

"That's second gen richie, law boi, and bestie," You point at Marius, Artem and MC. "That last one looks like a golden retriever."

The four look at Vyn and he sighs.

"Y/n they're here to discover more about the drug you took when young. Apparently it stops brain growth and has depressive side effects."

"OOOh is that why I tried to kill myself with a plastic cup last time?"

"She did whAT-?"

"Perhaps. It could also explain why you're my patient." Vyn smiles.

"That's right! Vynnie only takes the worst of the worst! ...You have really bad taste Vynnie. I'd rather be with the mentally stable," they shrug.

"Ah so Y/n?"

"Yes bestie?"

MC flushes a soft pink. "Do you remember much about the drug you used to take?"

"Uh so I think the tablets were pink at first, and then they successfully changed it to white... I could recreate it for you if you want? But only for you bestie, Vynnie is too mean." They pout.

Vyn sighs and the other three turn to look at him.

"re...create it?"

"Well they recruited me as a scientist first so I know the basic components of the drug but then they locked me up to force the medicine down my throat. It tasted ok but I think I lost control each time I had some-" They mumble. "Oh and of course I ran away and then some random man caught me and sent me to Vynnie's. He wasn't that bad though, he fed me some good food-"

"Wait wait," Vyn steps forward. "You know the components of the drug?"

"It tasted like the medicine you fed me the other day Vynnie," They grumble. "I also remember that the lab had really pretty water next to it. I think I ran down a hill to escape them."

The five look at each other and then MC speaks up.

"Y/n,"

"Yes bestie?"

"If we let you come with us, will you help us gather information?"

Artem frowns and you catch it.

"Law boi doesn't seem very happy about me coming along."

"Your mind works incredibly but the drug seems to have limited you." Vyn steps up. "I'll give you a nice room to live in."

"Idk Vynnie, sounds like bribery to me," They shrug.

"I'll bake for you-"

"Sold." they're glowing.

'... that easy?' they all sweat at your quick response.

"So all I have to do is gather information right?"

"We need to find out where the village is-"

"Up on a hill. Really tasty fish... uh crystal clear water and then I think I bumped into a crashed car on my way down the hill." You mumble. "I think the place started with O-"

"Opaline Village." Luke speaks up. "Is that it?"

"I think so~" you smile. "So Vynnie... when do I get to move out?"

"If you behave well the next three days I can get you out by the end of the week."

Your eyes glimmer.

You're an incredible actress, and an even better hacker apparently. Luke gave you three lessons on basic hacking and you broke into the Pax firewall quicker than he could.

"Ok so what now?"

"Can you get the locked files?"

"These?"

You even printed them out.

The group could only call you an unhinged genius from that point on.

"Your codename will be Flora."

"Wow you really named me after a drug huh Vynnie-" That earned you a smack in the head.

"King I can you order takeout?"

"Not to here-"

"Then to somewhere nearby! I'm hungry!" You reach for the knife in your drawer.

"ADJUCATOR!" Marius calls before you can end him.

Vyn shoves a pastry into your mouth and you continue working.

"We're heading to Opaline village today," MC and Luke tell you.

"Samples are in the third drawer in the fourth room after you turn left bestie~!" You sing.

What the hell?

"Vynnie what's for dinner,"

"What would you like?"

"Revenge," You blink.

"Rosa's working on that." He hums. "Food wise?"

"You-"

"I'm not edible," He deadpans.

"No but your-"

"I'll order pizza," Marius groans. You had been pulling all nighters in the office to crack down the firewall to the other files.

"Artie can you grab me a coffee on your way here?" You're on the phone with Artem now.

Vyn snatches the phone and sighs. "Don't get them any. They've been awake for nearly 72 hours now. I want them to crash asleep before they crash dead,"

"AWW VYNNIE CARES FOR ME!!!" You grin cheekily.

Artem brought you hot tea instead.

Then MC and Luke came back. You stood with the others as they watched MC get kissed by Huey. The child then ran up to you and hugged you.

"Thank you for teaching me how to break the firewall..."

The other five turned to you in shock.

"Love you Huey. Remember not to hack anyone unless you absolutely have to," You kissed him on the forehead. "Be good in school alright?"

"Okay..." He smiles.

Since when were you good with kids??

"So uh... we found the files," MC handed you papers and you grinned.

"My medical notes!"

What kind of Harley Quinn shit is this?

"So... what kind of abuse did they exactly go through?" Vyn stands next to MC as they watch you fight Marius.

"The files we read said that apparently at first they were fed the drug inside of their meal. Eventually they were locked up in a prison cell and turned into a complete test subject. They skipped three meals before they ran away." MC mumbles. "It's really sad."

Luke pulls you off of Marius and Artem hands you your morning coffee.

"Only you're dependable out of you all Artie..." You sigh blissfully after a sip. "Only you..."

Vyn's eyebrow twitches at the comment. MC can only look in amusement.

"Y/n you need to take a break." Vyn sighs.

"I get a break when I get revenge on that bitch who started drugging my food," You hiss.

"Even if I bake?"

"Depends what it is," You continue clicking, and you're focused.

"Then..." Vyn can't get himself to say it.

"Let's bet then," You mumble. "I break the firewall in the next hour you go on a date with me, if I don't then you can drag me to bed."

Vyn sighs. "Deal." He was really powerless compared to you.

Sure enough in 30 minutes, a cheer erupted in the headquarters. It sounded like your voice with Luke's.

"WE BROKE IN WE BROKE IN RAVEN WE BROKE IN!!!!" You screamed, your voice was hoarse from the lack of water.

The two of you are in an embrace, and Vyn's eyebrows twitch again.

"The all nighters..." Luke cries. "We did it..."

"VYNNIE YOU OWE ME A DATE!" You cried.

Vyn can only sigh. "When would you like to go out?"

You stand up, and you make your way to him.

"When I wake up." You proceed to crash dead onto the bed next to him. The NXX team then panicked for the next ten minutes because Marius thought you stopped breathing.

You slept for three days.

The NXX thought you died. Then you woke up and acted as though you didn't just die for 3 days.

"Good morning bestie," You're back on your computer again.

"Y/n you shouldn't be back on your computer after dropping dead for three days." MC panics. "Besides, Y/n you're going on a date today with Vyn right?"

"Yeah," You yawn.

"Do you want to dress up?" You strut to your closet.

"Oh look," You throw your closet door open. Lingerie and t-shirts and shorts. "Ah here's a decent outfit."

You toss together some clothes, and MC smiles. "Would you like me to help you with your hair?"

"Sure. Thank you MC," You smile.

The epitome of gender envy. Damn bestie you looked hot.

Vyn arrives a couple minutes after you finish getting ready.

"Vynnie!"

"It's... been a while since I've seen you dressed up," Vyn smiles. "Shall we go?"

You grin as he leads you to his car.

"What would you like to do?" Vyn peers at you.

"Can we bake at your place?" you fumble in your seat.

"Sure," He smiles. "What would you like to make?"

"Macarons?"

"Those are pretty hard Y/n... you sure?" He raises a brow at you.

"If I can hack a firewall then I can bake macarons." you grinned.

So turns out that was a lie.

"Vynnie ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚ " You whined. "Help me!"

"You didn't beat the egg whites enough," Vyn grabs the bowl from your arms and you rest your head on your palm.

"Vynnie the male wife..." You peered at him. "Vynnie would you marry me-?"

Clang

Vyn's caught off guard and drops the metal bowl. His glasses slide down slightly, and his lips are parted in shock.

"Sorry Vynnie," You reach over the counter to help him fix his glasses, and you beat the egg whites yourself. "Must've scared you out of your mind."

"No no," Vyn regains his composure and smiles.

"Dedication is hard," You mumble. "People change after time, and changes vary from person to person... betrayal plagues a person, and people that you once loved no longer love you back. Which is why Vynnie doesn't want to date right?"

Vyn pauses, and you hum in satisfaction.

"Ooh the egg whites are stiff." You turn the bowl upside down on top of your head and grin. "Shall we mix the two together?"

"Let me," Vyn folds the mixture in, and you hum. "Vynnie do you like MC?"

Vyn nearly drops the bowl again. He just couldn't get a break from your remarks. "Why are you asking?"

"When you came to pick me up your pulse was quicker than usual." You mumble. "Then when we got in the car and out of MC's sight your pulse slowed"

Vyn stops to stare at you now. "Is that why you were holding my wrist?"

"Luke taught me," You mumble. "To read people better."

"Unfortunately your hypothesis is wrong," Vyn smiles. "My heart did not quicken because of MC."

"Huh," You mumble.

"Could you help me put the batter in the piping bag?"

"Sure," You open a piping bag, and you open it for him to put the batter in. "Can I do the piping?"

"Sure," Vyn finishes filling in the bag, and you pipe the batter onto the tray.

"Vynnie why did your heartbeat go up then?"

Vyn stares at you. "Because I got to see you dressed up,"

You stumble and nearly mess up on a macaron shell.

"Vynnie teasing me isn't funny," You pout. Vyn smiles as he rests his cheek on his hand.

"But I was being honest," He beams at you.

"Vynnie!"

"Alright two hours"

"DON'T JUST CHANGE THE SUBJECT-"

"Siri please set a two hour timer-"

"VYNNIE!!!"

#vyn richter x reader #vyn richter #vyn x reader #tears of themis #vyn richter imagine #tears of themis x reader #tears of themis fanfiction #tot #My browser crashed halfway through writing this and I'm telling you I cried #also please be warned this is really long #ARGH MY PROGRESS WAS DELTED AGAIN AGHHHH #MY ENTIRE FIRST HALF #KILL ME #tot x reader

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oftenderweapons · 3 years

Text

Dirty ABCs | Jungkook and Candy

Let’s celebrate birthday boy with early NSFW alphabet!!! LET’S GOOOOO

Pairing: Jungkook x reader/OC (Candy)

Wordcount: 2.1k

Genre: headcanons

Rating: 18+. Minors, do not interact.

Here’s my masterlist, enjoy!

Trigger warnings: switch!jk, switch!candy, swearing. Unprotected sex (penetrative and oral — REMEMBER TO USE PROTECTION AND GET CHECKED REGULARLY), double penetration, quickies, creampie, cockwarming, cum eating. Marking, biting, scratching. Masturbation, boobjobs. Mention of mommy kink. Public foreplay, semi-public sex, exhibitionism. Degradation, praise kink, dirty talking, edging, sensory deprivation, overstimulation, multiple orgasms. Predator/Prey dynamics. Choking. Bondage. Toys (vibrators, cockrings, sex swing… 👀). Mild torture (?). Platonic spanks.

Beta read by my better half, @joheunsaram

Aftercare: Jungkook likes cuddles and pillow talk after sex. He’s very traditional about it. He enjoys how vulnerable he feels and how tender Candy is towards him. He really enjoys the softness of it all, and most importantly being babied. He wants tiddies and a nap. Candy is all about spoiling her boyfriend after he’s burnt out and satisfied. She loves how pliant and open he feels afterwards, how easy it is to connect with him and just let him vent about his worries.

Body part: Another tiddie man. He just loves how soft and relaxing it feels to rest his head on Candy’s breasts. He also loves her hair and how good it always smells. He lives to nuzzle into her neck and breathe her in. Candy loves Jungkook’s back. It’s the sexiest thing ever and she likes watching his back muscles flex when he’s fucking her. She also loves his waist, so dainty and feline. And of course his eyes. She could stare into his loving dark irises for hours. They’re so expressive.

Cum: Inside. Jungkook always wants inside. Her mouth is a close second, but if given the chance he wants to sink deep into her and bathe in the scent of her while sheathed in her warmth. It feels natural and romantic and loving. There’s no other place he would want to be other than inside her, all the time. Candy is okay with anything he wants. Watching his peaceful, serene expression after he’s fucked her hard and has found his orgasm inside her is ultimately one of the reasons why she loves having sex with Jungkook.

Dirty secret: Jungkook had been secretly nursing a mommy kink for a while. It did pop up once during one of his and Candy's little encounters, but it's not something he feels ready to face. He is so ashamed of it. Candy is really into Jungkook being her whiny, subby, precious good boy. She only wants to spoil him rotten all the time. However she can't stop thinking about all the girls out there willing to give up a lung to have a one night stand with him. Sometimes she just wishes she could dominate him in public. Tie him up, ride him raw till he's dry.

Experience: Jungkook has had only one partner, with whom the sex felt pretty awful. He didn't really think he was into it or could go that wild before he and Candy started sleeping together. Candy is fairly experienced. She has had three or four short term relationships. Maybe a couple flings.

Favourite position: Jungkook can't pick just one. Well, actually yes: missionary, but with Candy's legs pressed together and thrown over his shoulder but also spread apart, her knees pressed to her shoulders. Candy really likes it when he picks her up and fucks her against the wall, or when he gets really creative. That usually entails lots of laughing and joking and communicating.

Goofy: maybe. It depends. If they're making love, then I do see Jungkook getting emotional and Candy brightening the mood with cute jokes and compliments. They do tend to be goofy when they're together, but usually not during sex. It's either a very emotionally raw moment or vicious fucking.

Hair: Jungkook shaves. He's a neat freak and shaves. He does so religiously. Candy is not that consistent, sometimes she shaves, sometimes she trims. Depends on the mood.

Intimacy: it's very demure but it's there. You wouldn't notice it because the moment Jungkook enters beast mode, it's pretty much degradation and overstimulation all over the place. But it's there too! It's in the mere fact that he trusts her enough to forget how to be civil and decent and just unleashes himself all over her. For the first ten times or so it's shy and attempted, he tiptoes around the very edge of control, but once she tells him she loves him, he goes all out and never stops. He explores and pleases. That's his nature. Candy is the one that grants intimacy the most. He knows he can go wild because she's his anchor, keeping things loving and gentle and tender even through the storm. Now, once Jungkook subs though… intimacy galore. Little touches and small kisses and endless tight hugs. Her first goal is to make him feel safe. And that happens through intimacy.

Jack off: These two? Really? No, you didn't understand. If Jungkook has even a remote chance of cumming inside her, there's no way he's masturbating. He will 300% ignore his instincts until he can have her. And it's pretty difficult for Candy not to be in the mood — or not to get into the mood, if need be. She's also not one for masturbating. She does it only when he's not available, be it because he's abroad or he's too busy. But he's always her first choice. Generally speaking it might happen that he's not in the mood and she decides to take a quick shower and deal with it herself, but usually he's joining her after a couple minutes, his mind changed, a bunny smile on his face as he winks and hops in.

Kink: First and foremost, cockwarming. Creampies shortly after. Candy has a thing for marking him, especially scratches down his muscular upper back. Their kinks depend on who's domming: if it's Jungkook, there's plenty of degradation and high chances of predator/prey dynamics. He gets very horny if Candy plays hard to catch, and he discovers it accidentally, after Candy stole the last serving of his favourite snack. Useless to say, the snack was forgotten and they fucked on the floor. Candy likes choking (receiving) and pretty much anything Jungkook is willing to try. She can't wait to try double penetration with him, she's just waiting for him to open up about the topic. When domming, she's into sensory deprivation, bondage, praise kink and edging, especially when boobjobs are involved, since JK is particularly sensitive about the topic. As long as she has him whining and begging below her, she's ready to try anything.

Location: Well, the bedroom is the place of choice for most occasions. Not always though. The shower is a strong opponent. If they do get naughty outside of their home, it's usually in quite private places too. Hotel rooms. Club or restaurant bathrooms. Foreplay in the lift and on the dance floor — mostly Candy rubbing herself all over Jungkook. Well, they did get nasty in a cave once, but that's another story.

Motivation: as I said, playing catch with Jungkook is always a good way to get him in the mood. He's extremely weak for breasts, so anything regarding those is a hot topic too. Candy often wears loose/low neck shirts and leans over, offering him a glimpse of her lack of bra. Low neckline and no bra usually means "please, fuck me across the living room, thank you" in Candy language. While for Candy, watching Jungkook work out or just get sweaty and flirty is a total panty snatcher. You'll find her bent over, ass up, ready for the take.

No: Jungkook doesn't like receiving degradation. Memories of his ex make him uncomfortable with that. Other than that, he strongly opposes to anything that involves hardcore domination. He can be a dom, but he's extremely sensitive about what he does and some acts are a bit too aggressive for his opinion. Candy hadn't tried anything unconventional before Jungkook, and so far all her past no's have turned into hard yes with Jungkook. She's still exploring her limits.

Oral: Jungkook? Hell yes. He likes receiving but he by far prefers giving, especially when Candy is domming or directing him. He could do that for hours, and his love for the act almost rivals that of our local kitty cat Yoongi. His true joy is being rewarded going for multiples with his head between Candy's thighs. Especially if he's cum inside her. Not too fast though, he needs some cockwarming first. Candy is a true fan of giving head. She especially likes doing so when Jungkook is in a subby and bratty mood. Listening to him getting vocal about his appreciation is always the greatest compliment to her, and also an excellent way to discipline him when he gets cocky.

Pace: Fast. Hard. That's all there is. If he's setting the pace, it's outright demonic, hitting at least 74bpm (it's Kiwi by Harry Styles in halftime). Yes, he can go slower, usually when he's in lover boy mode or even better, when he's trying to show Candy who's the boss. Slow, lazy rolls of his hips reaching unknown depths. If Candy's on top/domming it's all about it being intimate, calm, relaxing even. She wants Jungkook to explore a sensuality he is too rushed and forceful for. Through her slow and steady approach she helps him embrace a more feminine and spiritual sexuality that borders on the psychological and tantric.

Quickie: yes. Hard yes. He is the best with quickies. Just get it over with so they're both relieved and they can chat about their day while he's still inside her. There's not much to say. Just yes.

Risk: they prefer avoiding it, however they're young and experimenting, therefore they do sometimes get a bit past the safety line. The biggest risk for them is doing anything where they could be spotted, therefore they're really subtle and overall not too explicit about anything happening in a semi-public context. Except, that one time while they were on holiday, of course. And that other time in which Candy almost jerked him off in a restaurant before blowing him in his car.

Stamina: Insane. Jungkook's stamina is more about endurance rather than control. He can make Candy cum five or six times while he cums twice and is more than glad. He can go for two consecutive rounds without breaking a sweat. For himself he's usually more than happy with a round of foreplay and one of fucking, but if he's determined enough, he can last one more. He usually doesn't push himself that far though, he does when he's been deprived for long enough.

Toy: Although toys aren't usually a part of their sex life, they do use them every now and then. Vibrators, vibrating cockrings, oh! And their sex swing, of course. That's what they use the most, yes.

Unfair: If Jungkook is in hard dom mode, he is very unfair, plenty of teasing and taunting matched with mockery and degradation. He can keep Candy on her toes for a full hour, giving her small reprieve every here and there. Candy is also equally torturous: if she's domming, she's not done edging him until he's whining, sobbing, begging and possibly crying.

Volume: Normally, Candy is very quiet however, Jungkook always goes the extra mile to make her moan and whine, especially if he's eating her out. Jungkook can be especially eloquent with his sounds: grunting and groaning are typically for his dommier side, while whining and whimpering are usually for his subby one. Moaning is all over the place. Consider also a good amount of murmuring and mumbling some dirty talking. Not too much though.

Wild card: Jungkook likes his hair being combed during aftercare. Candy always relaxes while he speaks loving words to make up for the degradation and mockery. She could fall asleep while combing his hair, she's just that tired and comfortable. Also! When he installed the sex swing in their room, he decided it was a good idea to have permanent hooks on the ceiling, mask them with fake plants. Crackhead.

X-Ray: Jungkook has a nice cock. Not too long, not too thick but it has an upward curve that makes stuff interesting. He's probably around six or seven inches. Candy has objectively nice breasts, full, round, truly well structured. And she has a nice ass too, Jungkook likes squeezing it when she throws her leg on top of him during cuddles. He also spanks it a few tens of times a day — not in the sexual way tho, but more in that encouragement/comradery way he has learnt with the guys.

Yearning: Jungkook can go without sex for a long time. I'm talking about a month and more. It's not a priority for him, except right after he and Candy sleep together for the first time, when he needed to get rid of the high. With him, everything is very inconsistent: one week you're having sex every day, and the following one, he's just all about the cuddles and fluff. Candy is up for anything, however she prefers having sex at least once or twice a week. Both feel safe to initiate without fearing being denied. For them, arousal is very easily built through playing and bantering.

Zzz: both take a while to fall asleep after sex. Plenty of time for pillow talking and cleaning up, though they prefer doing so very pragmatically. Any time spent apart during aftercare is a waste to both of them: they just want to talk things out, relax, bask in each other's warm presence.

#Jungkook x reader #jungkook x candy #jungkook smut #Jungkook fluff #jungkook headcanons #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenario

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yourmcu · 3 years

Text

Mesmerized (ii)

Pairings: Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Request:

@lostaurorax said:

hii!! i love ur writing i was wondering if u could write a natasha x reader fic were reader is part of the guardians of the galaxy and they come to the compound and natasha is just starstruck but reader plays kinda hard to get and then just a bunch of fluff !

Word count: 2,551

A/n: basically a day out with Natasha. you like having her around. she likes having you around. Part 2/? (more notes at the end of the fic!)

Warnings: mostly fluff, but ending’s pretty angsty (help), some thor fluff in the beginning, jealous!nat if you squint

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3

gif not mine!! credits to the owner^^

After Natasha left your room she immediately goes straight to hers. She barely falls asleep.

She stares at the ceiling, absorbed in her own thoughts. She tries to shake away the heat rushing to her face whenever the moment you kissed her on the cheek replays on her mind. All it took is someone like you to get one of the toughest people in the compound turn into mush.

She never believes in the ‘love at first sight’ bullshit because, well, it is bullshit. It’s impossible to love someone you just met. But who knows, right? You might just be an exception.

No, Natasha frowns. I just like her... a lot. It’s different.

The next morning, her run consists of her planning out the date day with you, where she’d take you first and stuff. She stops by the front gate of the compound, suddenly worrying. She wants to impress you. But what if you don’t like what she had in store? What if you think she's boring?

You're the type of person that almost likes everything and you’d express it kindly if you don’t. Boring you should be the last thing on Natasha’s mind.

Natasha walks into the kitchen to hydrate herself but halts once she saw the mess you and Thor had all over the counters.

“Wait, hold on- no, that’s - oh god, Thor, that’s too much batter!” You smack him on the arm and laugh, tilting your head a bit to figure out how you’d get the large pancake out of the pan.

“Oops,” Thor says sheepishly, turning around to put the bowl back on the counter, noticing Natasha’s confusion. “Oh don’t worry, Natasha, we’ll clean up after we’re done.”

The mention of the redhead makes you turn as well. “Good morning, Nat.” You beam. Normally, Natasha would sent a glare to anyone who calls her that, someone who isn’t a close friend, but with you... instead of a glare her eyes light up. Giving you a small smile, she greets you back.

“I thought you were going out?” She questions, passing by you to reach the fridge.

“We were, but IHOP’s closed, under maintenance they said,” Thor sighs and you hum in response. “It’s quite alright. I heard you guys are going out anyway-”

Natasha lowers the water bottle from her lips, staring at him. “You heard?”

You spin around to clean up after turning off the stove. ‘I didn’t tell him anything,’ you mouth to her, which makes her think Steve somehow knows of it already.

Thor lets out a laugh, grabbing the whole pan and twiddling his fork, “you two have fun.” He winks and walks out of the room.

-----

“They were so cute,” you look back at the newly engaged couple near the window of the restaurant. “And really, you didn’t have to pay. I can pay you back.”

Later that afternoon the both of you headed out. Natasha parked her car somewhere and since it was a nice day, not too hot or anything, you both strolled around the city to find a place to have brunch.

“Y/N, it’s fine. I’m the one who asked you out.” Natasha chuckles, remembering the way you pouted in there begging her to let you pay at least for your own food.

You huff, smiling. “Fine. But I’m getting you back.”

So far you were having a good time with her. You got to know each other more, she told you stories about some of the team’s missions from other countries which were relatively rare, her first encounters with Tony Stark and Bruce Banner, and in return you told her some about your out-of-this-world missions with the guardians.

And no you didn’t tell her about the history of moon rocks or some shit, nor did you promise to bring her back some. Who even collects those nowadays? Natasha was more interested about your early life, on Earth, which you were thankful for. You were taken away from your father (the only parent you preferred and loved) who was pure human one day by your alien-freak of a mother which you inherited your fire powers from.

You don’t like talking about it. But with her you're surprisingly comfortable.

Natasha smirks. “So we’re going out again sometime?”

“Of course we are.” After two seconds of pure confidence you wish you didn’t say that out loud. “Well, you know, I won’t force you to something you don’t want it’s - it’s your call.”

You're in the middle of telling her about your favorite bar and diner, the one your father always takes you as a child and you even paid a visit there the last time you were on Earth.

“Huh. Isn’t that the one that just closed?” She recalls

“No, really?” You drag out the ‘no’, sighing. “They’re the best. They make their own iced tea and beer and stuff... and - oh!”

You feel something rub against your ankle: a fluffy dog who's looking up at you with its tongue out and its tail was wagging wildly. Natasha raises her eyebrows, her eyes trailing to the abandoned leash behind it.

“Hey there,” you kneel down to pet it with caution just incase its intention is to bite you. But it seems to be happy and tame. “Look, Nat, s’adorable.” Natasha chuckles briefly and starts looking around for a person who looks frantic and is finding, calling a dog.

“This fella belongs to the animal center.” You caress the dog behind its ear while you read the information on its collar.

It isn’t that far, it seems like the dog just escaped as well because the guy running the center was unaware of its absence.

“Thanks!” Said guy smiles in appreciation, reaching out to take the leash out of your hand. Natasha’s mind is focused on how the guy looks at you for the first time. It's the exact same look she gave you that night. Mesmerized, as if it was love at first sight. She doesn’t miss how his hand brushes yours, completely intentional. “I don’t know what I’d do if you hadn’t returned him. The pups here just grew out of their mom’s milk and are very hyper. It’s a lot of work.”

You're completely oblivious to this, you’re just glad the dog is back to where he belongs.

“No problem, he’s very sweet.” You smile politely. “Are they up for adoption? It would really help you out if they were, you know, and this one here is well behaved.”

At this point Natasha’s just eyeing the guy like he’d pounce on you any minute now. He’s definitely into you and she doesn’t like it.

“You’re welcome to stop by anytime,” he grins, ignoring your suggestion. “Can I have your number?”

“Oh, I don’t have a phone...” you trail off.

“That’s right, she doesn’t.” Natasha steps in and she catches the guy off guard and surprised that the Black Widow is actually with you the whole time. Natasha intertwines her hand with yours, pleased with his dumbfounded reaction. “We’ll be on our way now.”

You didn’t expect that but you weren’t complaining. Her hands were soft, and it brought this comforting feeling you couldn’t explain. But you clear your throat once the both of you are a few blocks away from the center.

“Sorry, he gave me an off vibe,” Natasha mutters and removes her hand from yours.

“Don’t be, I appreciate you looking out,” you smiles. Her car was getting into view now. “If it helps you sleep at night though, he wasn’t my type.” You joke.

Turns out you weren’t completely oblivious.

Natasha merely scoffs, getting in the driver’s seat and starting the engine.

After the dog incident you both drove around different parts of the city. You went to a different mall to stroll around, commenting on anything you both saw that would somehow lead to a stupid story that happened at some point in your lives.

A local artsy bookstore, not gonna lie Natasha liked reading a good book when she had the time. So did you. It was nice to know that she’s the type of person who liked reading. Quill always got annoyed with you whenever he saw you reading silently in the ship (but when was he not annoyed with you?). The only ones that was willing to try and read back in space were Mantis and Gamora, bless her soul.

“These are good,” you mutter to Natasha. “All my books are on the ship, I think, but if I get to them I’ll let you read my favorite one... if you want.”

Last stop of the day. Natasha claims it’s a surprise.

“I don’t do well with surprises,” you whine, holding back a smile. “Just tell me.”

“No. And besides, we’re already here.” Natasha chuckles.

Your eyes light up on how stunning the scenery was. An edge of the cliff and below is a beach that doesn’t look like it’s visited by people everyday. The beautiful sunset, the sky made up of purple, orange and almost pink magnifies the calmness of the waves crawling gently to the shore.

“I always come here whenever I need to,” she says silently and exhales, walking over to you. “It’s the perfect place to go whenever those idiots get on my nerves.” You laugh lightly at her reasoning.

Natasha pats a spot on the grass beside her. She holds her gaze on you as you sit down, sighing. “It’s beautiful.”

“Yeah,” she manages to stop staring at you and look up at the sky instead. It's getting darker by the minute, the orange and pinkness started to fade as the sun went down, all of it replaced by light purple, darker shade of blue.

You're used to different colored skies. It would always vary and depend on what planet you were on, plus you always see those stars shimmering up above, so your focus is on the water and the waves. The way they move calms you.

“Thank you for today,” you murmur. “I’m gonna be honest, I didn’t expect any of this happening.”

Natasha hums. “I hope I wasn’t too boring.”

“Of course not, I think you’re very interesting and you’re fun to be with.” You say genuinely.

Once the sun is fully down and the moon had taken over the sky, the both of you get up to head back to the compound. “Eating out here would’ve been nice but Steve’s in charge with dinner, he wouldn’t be too happy if he knew we already ate.” The car ride back is silent, but the good kind. A content, comfortable one.

Okay so, your stay took more than a few weeks.

You grew close with the amazing group of people, plus your good relationship with Natasha just kept growing and... just got better.

Thor stayed too because he didn’t have a choice, but he didn’t mind. Rocket left one pod for both of you to use that’ll send you to wherever Quill’s ship was up there.

You and Natasha went out when you had the chance, taking turns treating each other to stuff. You learned that Thor included your books when he packed you a bag, and now Natasha was borrowing one of them.

Sometimes you’d join them on missions. You did a great job every time, not wanting to be a burden to a team you weren’t officially in. Sometimes you’d join Steve into a sparring session at the compound’s gym.

Speaking of which, he’s treating both you and Natasha as if you’re dating.

“Would you look at that, your girl managed to give me a bruise. She’s a keeper.” Steve tells Natasha.

“You totally deserve that.”

You also started sparring with Natasha. And Tony caught on with the whole ‘dating’ thing from Steve.

“Oooh, am I interrupting something here?” Tony smirks. He's going back and forth visiting the compound and coming home to his wife and daughter at their cabin. It's working out though. “I think the mat’s unsanitary. Take this to the bedroom.”

“Oh shut up, Y/N was just working on her tackling.” Natasha grunts, leaving you sprawled on the mat, exhausted. “It’s getting sloppy. We’ll go again in a minute.”

-----

“Y/N,” The devastating tone of Natasha’s voice makes you look up. “Quill’s calling. He’s looking for you.”

“What?” She doesn’t answer but instead motions you to follow. In her office is a hologram of your fellow half-human and he looks distraught.

You step in front of the hologram so he can see you.

“What happened to a few weeks, L/N? It’s been almost three months!” Quill says. “Look, come back, bring Thor with you. Our distress signal goes off almost every day and we can’t keep doing this without both of you.”

“Alright, how much time do I have before you lose your cool?” You reply sarcastically, but you're also worried and didn’t want to leave. You know better than to argue with the guy.

Natasha doesn’t want you to leave so suddenly. There’s limited communication between you and her once you go back up there. She grew attached to you.

Quill gives you an obvious look. “As soon as possible! Just - just get back here, please?” Then he abruptly ends the call.

You roll your eyes and left the room to pack, barely noticing Natasha hunched over, visibly sad and anxious that you’re leaving.

She loves you, and now you’re leaving without that knowledge.

You told Thor about it when he passed by the open door of your room. He didn’t look thrilled to be leaving so suddenly. After packing everything up (on his part it wasn’t that much) he offered to carry your bag for you as you said your farewells.

“Sorry guys, duty calls,” you sigh, hugging everyone. “Seeing as Tony’s not here just tell him I’ll miss him or something.”

“Will you come visit soon?” Wanda asks as she pulls away from your hug.

“Definitely.” You turn your head when Steve nudges you, nodding his head to the direction where Natasha is shifting, pacing, avoiding any eye contact.

You walk over to her. She tries holding back tears as you did. She grew attached to you and now you’re leaving. “Hey Nat,” you cup her face, trying to get her to look at you. “I’m sorry. I don’t wanna leave either, not right now, but-”

Natasha kisses you, pulling you close to her as much as possible. Tears fully streaming down her face. She’s never felt this way before, about anybody, for a long time.

But let’s face it, you both know you loved each other. Maybe the both of you just knew that if you got together, it’ll be extremely hard for your relationship once you left. The long distance relationship thing. Even if you aren’t, it's already too painful for Natasha, like she's caught off guard or something. None of you knew that today's your last night on Earth.

“I’m gonna miss you.” Natasha whispers after pulling away.

You smile sympathetically, wiping her tears away with your thumb. “You know I’ll come back, right, pretty girl?” Natasha exhales shakily and pulls you into a hug.

“You better.”

----

I found a song for this fic-series whatever, please I’m so proud of myself the song reminds me of this story

I’M ANNOYED THAT I HAVEN’T PUT IN MUCH ABOUT THE READER’S FIRE ABILITIES IN THIS ONE BUT I HOPE YOU ENJOY ANYWAY (they’re on a date she wouldn’t need it for anything)

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princessphilly · 3 years

Text

All Bets Are Off: Chapter 1

Word Count: 2068

CW: not yet, except for some bad language

Note: I don’t always write long chapters. Some may be closer to 2000, some closer to 5000, it depends on the chapter and what is going on.

taglist: @nazdaddy @texanstarslove @shortstacks-blog @missymore @hockeywocs @puckbitchesgetmoney @defiant-mouse @myhockeyworld87 @chicagostylehockey @barriesweet

Join the tag list here!

Chapter 1

“Look at my girl, moving up in the world!”

Nina could hear her mother’s voice in her head as she moved around in her office in the Lemieux Training Complex. Today was her first day working not just as a physical therapist for UPMC but as a physical therapist for the Pittsburgh Penguins and Nina felt like she was going to burst from nervousness. ‘Not bad for a girl from Clairton,’ Nina thought as she went through her schedule.

Nina had pledged never to come back to Western PA when she graduated from Clairton High. Now, almost eight years later, she was back and working with the hometown hockey team. After doing undergrad at Penn State, aka grades 13-16 with everyone from the area usually going there, Nina went down south to the University of Florida for her Doctor’s in Physical Therapy after getting her B.S. in Kinesiology. The warm weather was so much better than the fucking snow of Western PA but UPMC was offering the most money out of all of Nina’s job offers. After thinking about her student loans, UPMC was a no fucking brainer.

Taking a centering breath, Nina pasted her best professional smile on her face and got ready to go meet her first client. Before she could do that, her door opened and three men stepped in.

“Here is our newest physical therapist. Unlike Mike and Trent, Nina is a DPT,” Rick Dvorak, the head physical therapist explained to the two men with him.

Nina smiled and reached out her hand. “Good morning, my name is Nina Jackson, nice to meet you.”

Of course, she knew who the two other men were. One was Super Mario, Mario Lemieux, Pittsburgh legend and co-owner of the Pens. Next to him was Sidney Crosby, superstar who had just won his third Stanley Cup. Mario had a friendly professional smile but Sidney was looking at her like she… Nina didn’t quite know how to place that look. She kept her professional smile on her face while inwardly grimacing. Of course, the star of the team would feel some way about a black physical therapist.

“Sid looks a little starstruck,” Mario joked.

Sidney laughed self-consciously, his cheeks reddening adorably. Nina kept a straight face, thinking, ‘I hope I never have to treat him.’

Sidney smiled and his whiskey-brown eyes brightened. “Just a natural reaction to a pretty girl.”

Nina rolled her eyes inwardly, her professional smile getting strained. Sidney wanted to give himself a bag skate as he could tell that she was turned off. He felt awkward as hell and he wanted to curse but this wasn’t the time. He laughed, wishing that he wasn’t anywhere but here. Nina replied, “I’m used to turning heads but I didn’t quite expect to do that here,” with a laugh.

Sidney had met his fair share of gorgeous women, probably more than his fair share. Yet, his breath was taken away when he first saw her. Clear brown skin, dimples when she smiled, and dark brown hair pulled into a bun, nothing unique. But when Nina smiled, all Sidney wanted to do was drown in her smile and see what he could do to keep her smiling like that forever. Then, he got a look at the rest of her body and Sidney wanted to not only keep her smiling forever, he also wanted to find out what would get her to scream his name.

Then he faltered and realized that he really had goofed. Nina’s hand was still outstretched and he forgot to shake it. Sidney gave Nina an apologetic look and took her hand.

Nina didn’t know what happened when Sidney took her hand but she felt something electric, hot, and intense as hell. It was scary and she carefully pulled her hand back as soon as she could. Whatever it was, Nina was sure it was just another omen that today was going to be the worst day on earth.

Sidney gave Nina his best smile when she let go. He never felt such a connection when he had met a woman before but fuck, he had to change her mind about him.

Nina spent the next five minutes mentally willing the team owner, the captain, and her boss out of her office while making small talk. Luckily, the men left pretty quickly after wishing her luck on her first day working with the team. Sidney Crosby was the last to leave and Nina busied herself with arranging her papers. She could feel his eyes on her and Nina had no desire to interact with him. Then he finally left and she sighed deeply. Nina took several deep breaths before refocusing herself on her day ahead.

“Nina Latreice Jackson, now you know I ain’t raise no fool!”

Nina let out a low groan as she thought about another thing her mother loved to say. As much as it seemed like Crosby didn’t like her, Nina decided that she would be completely professional in every way. It wasn’t that hard; athletes were pretty much the same no matter where they were. Just like the Florida Gators players she worked on while in school, the Pens players fell under several categories. There were the jokers, the serious ones, the ones who lived to flirt, and players who fell under all of the categories.

For her first weeks, Nina worked at creating a professional boundary with the players she was working with. For the majority of the time, they were decently behaved. It was mid-season so there were all kinds of lingering issues, some more serious than others. Nina figured out pretty quickly that some of the players were going to follow directions while others were going to slack off until their issue made it impossible for them to ignore it.

However, today was her first day working with Sidney Crosby after her first day. Like she expected, it was a little awkward and his teammates didn’t help. The leader of the chirping was Geno Malkin. The guys kept walking by, sending suggestive looks and comments. Sidney’s cheeks were a dull red midway through the session. After a while, Nina got annoyed.

The straw that broke the camel’s back was when Geno and Jake came by for the third time, making kissing noises. Nina snapped, “Unless you need treatment, I don’t understand why you are in here.”

“Ouch,” Geno replied as Jake laughed. “She mean.”

Sidney rolled his eyes as he gave his teammates a warning look. As Nina wrapped his ankle, Sidney tried to take several deep breaths. He had rolled it a bit during practice. It wasn’t major but with the other trainers unavailable, Nina had decided to look at it.

“Why are you so stiff?”

Sidney looked up at Nina. She was checking out his ankle with pursed lips but when her eyes met his, Sidney sucked in a breath. Nina was really… words failed.

“I’m waiting,” Nina prodded with a sarcastic chuckle. This was making her feel really uncomfortable. All of the others players were relatively easygoing but the captain, he was so stoic around her. It made her feel like he didn’t really want her and Nina had observed enough over the last weeks that whatever Sidney wanted, he got. If he said one thing, she would lose the extra money from working with the team and Nina couldn’t afford that.

Sidney gulped before deciding just to admit the truth. “It’s a bit hard to be around such a beautiful woman like you.”

Nina laughed before giving Sidney a sardonic smile. Sidney felt his heart break into two. He didn’t even get a chance to ask her out before fucking it up. “It’s true,” he whispered.

Nina swallowed before focusing back on his ankle. “You should be good, Mr. Crosby. I don’t diagnose injuries; I just help treat them but you should be good to go for the next practice and everything.”

“Call me Sidney.”

Her eyes met his again and Sidney was looking at Nina with the most earnest expression she had ever seen.

“Ok, Sidney,” Nina forced out with a fake smile.

Sidney groaned before getting off the table and sliding his feet into his crocs. Nina took a deep breath and rolled her eyes after he left.

Gretchen, one of the athletic trainers, came in and snickered. “I’m surprised he made it without self-combusting.”

“What?”

“Yinz don’t know? He likes you, Nina,” Gretchen explained.

Nina shrugged. “Yeah, right.”

“He’s always staring-“

Nina interrupted Gretchen as she said, “I’d rather go and get lunch. Panera Bread sound good?”

Nina counted herself lucky that she was able to avoid Sidney after that day. Her luck ran out in the worst way. Nina was rushing out to make it to a dentist appointment when she ran into a hard chest. Tripping over her feet, Nina fell on her butt.

“Owww!”

“Are you okay?”

Nina looked up and it was Sidney Crosby, of course, holding out a hand. She cautiously grabbed it and let him pull her up off the floor. Like the first time they met, Nina felt the electricity when their hands touched. This time, Sidney held her hand even after she was off the floor.

“Seriously, are you okay,” Sidney pressed.

Nina felt her cheek feel hot as she replied, “Seriously, I’m fine. It was an accident.”

“I mean, I don’t want to give you more reasons to hate me.”

For the first time, Nina noticed that Sidney looked vulnerable. Pulling her hand out of his grasp, she murmured, “I don’t hate you. I think you’re the one who may hate me.”

Sidney blinked in surprise. “I don’t hate you! But I would love to take you out for dinner sometime.”

Something made Nina feel instantly happy at his words that he didn’t hate her and wanted to take her out but it couldn’t work. “Nice to know that you don’t hate me but dinner isn’t going to happen. I gotta go, I’m going to be late!”

Sidney watched Nina race out of the building to her car. He was losing and he wasn’t used to losing. Gritting his teeth, Sidney vowed to himself that he would get Nina to warm up to him, sooner or later.

“Hey girl, how was your appointment?”

Nina smiled as she FaceTime with her best friend Lauren. “Not bad, no new cavities or anything. I talked with Dr. Smith about maybe getting adult braces and she said I don’t really need them.”

“Sounds good for someone who was freaking out,” Lauren teased. “So, what’s going on at work? Meet any hot players? Anyone you’d hook me up with?”

“Girl, no. I keep it strictly professional with them. I don’t even want them thinking anything is going to happen,” Nina replied. She half considered sharing her interactions with Sidney Crosby with Lauren but her BFF had a bad case of loose lips when drinking. So, Nina kept that to herself.

“Is Sid hotter in person than he is on TV? You know I love my Steelers but I gotta know.”

Nina snorted before saying, “Meh. He’s alright.”

“He’s alright,’ Lauren said in disbelief. “Oh, there’s a story here.”

“There’s nothing because I deal with him at work now and then.” Nina rolled her eyes as Terrible Tess, her cat jumped in her lap. Steely, her dog, was at her feet. “Anyway, did you get the tickets for the game yet?”

Lauren was a lawyer and one of the perks was tickets to Steelers games, usually either in a box or on the 50-yard line. As diehard fans, Lauren and Nina tried to take advantage of that perk as much as possible. Lauren stated, “Oh yes, we got tickets. And there’s this guy…”

Nina listened to Lauren talk about her newest guy she was interested in as she petted Terrible Tess. As much as she didn’t want to, she couldn’t help but think of the look on Sidney’s face when she basically told him thanks but no thanks. He actually looked hurt; not an egotistical hurt that most men got when they were told that they aren't as great as they thought they were. But it was like an honest hurt. It didn’t matter though; past heartbreak taught Nina that getting involved with anyone even affiliated with work was the worst idea ever.

#drabbles #nhl imagines #nhl imagine #sidney crosby #Crosby imagines #penguin imagine #penguins imagines #penguins #all bets are off #blurbs #nhl fic #nhl fanfiction #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #hockey rpf

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catacomb231 · 2 years

Text

Baby Birdie|Hawks x Adult! Reader PART FIVE

A/N:Yeah I ain't making any new stories until I clear out my drafts! So I am gonna catch up with this series, Kitty, AND Mine or Hers before doing anything else!

Sum:You and Hawks started dating after your drunk confession, but it is much harder than you thought. However you're willing to go through it to make it work.

It's been a few weeks since your drunk confession, and you and Hawks have started dating!

He even told you his real name, even if he wasn't supposed to. And you guys also couldn't really go out and have dates in the public eye. Otherwise it would endanger you AND his missions with the Commission. He also just REALLY didn't want the Leauge of Villains to know about you, otherwise his cover might be blown and he didn't want you to get wrapped up in this crap too.

But it always made him happy when he would see you welcome him every day when he returned from work. Even the nights when he didn't get home til REALLY late or REALLY early in the morning, he was happy to get dressed into his lazy clothes and cuddle under the sheets with you as well.

There was one time you stayed up really late waiting for him, but afterwards you slept in til 2 in the afternoon, so he told you to stop doing that.

He also seemed to have already "moved in" with you which you honestly didn't really mind.

But every day you just kept getting this one nagging thought in the back of your mind.

Are we moving too fast? What if he decides he doesn't actually love me, and leaves..?

You yawn as you shuffle to the kitchen, only to be surprised to see Hawks in the kitchen, still dressed in his pajamas and was cooking some omelettes on your apartment kitchen's stove.

He looks over and smiles a bit wider when he sees you before looking back at the pan. "Morning Birdie. Sleep well?" He asks. "Keigo? Why aren't you at work?" You ask, completely ignoring his previous question. "I got the day off. It's great isn't it!" He explains before plating the omelet on to a clean glass plate. It sat right beside another plate that already had a hot steamy omelet on it.

"Yeah, it is." You reply with a smile and walk over to the table. You sit down while Hawks grabs your plate, a fork and knife, and cup of coffee before setting it down in front of you. Then he grabs his and sits across from you.

"Well then it's probably a good thing I also have the day off! So what should we do today?" You ask before taking a bite of the delicious omelet Hawks made for you.

"That depends. What do YOU want to do Birdie?" He asks as he already finished his omelet. You thought to yourself before looking out the back glass sliding door that lead to the balcony. "Well, it's still early in the morning. There won't be many people around.. can we go for a morning fly..?" You suggest, looking over at him.

You were worried he would say no but he didn't. If anything, he perks up excitedly. "Of course! Grab your jacket and let's go!" He agrees. You get up from the table and go over to the coat rack. You and Hawks put their hoodies on before walking to the balcony door.

Hawks slides it open and shuts it as you two stepped out on the balcony.

"Alright. Hang on tight." He warns you as he stood behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist securely. As he began to flap his wings he could feel you tense. "Relax Birdie. I won't drop you!" He reassures you before taking off with one powerful push.

You didn't realize you had closed your eyes until you opened them and was facing down at the ground and moving cars that looked like dots from how high you were. You HAVE gone flying before with Hawks but you couldn't remember much cuz you passed out as he carried you to the hospital.

You look up and find the soft orange and pink sky from the sun still rising over the horizon. You didn't realize how beautiful the early morning can be! And best of all, you get to be up here with your boyfriend!

"Wow. It's.. actually beautiful!" You comment, now smiling at everything that was touched by the faint morning glow. "I know right? This is why I love flying! Especially in the morning!" Hawks agrees, looking out ahead of him.

"And best of all, no one will question anything. If they see us, they'll just assume you're a citizen I'm saving." Hawks adds. "Well, you DID save me.." You remind him, looking up at him. He smiles back. "Of course, how could I forget?"

You giggle before looking forward again.

By the time the sun rose up all the way, Hawks landed back on to the balcony. You slide the door open and walk in, closing it behind you. "Keigo, you know you don't need to keep your arms wrapped around me, right?" You mention.

"Can't do. They're permanently stuck to you." He replies with a smile as he slouched against you and rested his head against your back. "Well can you at least unstick for a moment so I can remove my jacket?" You ask as you playfully rolled your eyes.

So he unwraps himself enough for you to get it off and hung it up. Then he guided you to the couch, sitting down and pulling you into his lap.

"You're suddenly all cuddly." You point out. "What can I say? You're very soft." He replies before kissing you on the cheek, causing you to blush.

It was all silent for a moment before Hawks speaks up again. "The commission knows about you."

You suddenly pull away and snap your gaze at him, now worried. "Oh no, what did they say??" You ask, tensing up. What if this is it?! What if I'm not able to be with him anymore?

"Well, they told me we aren't forced to break up or anything," He point out, earning a sigh of relief from your mouth. "But, they said if you end up getting hurt or endangered, we can't be together. For your safety." He finishes.

"Yeah, that seems fair.." You reply, looking down at your lap before looking back up at him. "I don't want to leave you."

He nods and pulls you in. "Don't worry. I won't let anything happen to you. I'll be sure to protect you with my life to make sure that they won't take you away." He reassures you as you rested your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"Thank you... So much..."

#mha #bnha #mha reader insert #fluff #mha oneshots #mha hawks x reader fluff #mha hawks fluff #mha hawks x reader #mha hawks #bnha hawks #boku no hero academia hawks #bnha keigo #keigo takami #mha keigo x reader

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physicalturian · 3 years

Text

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 2

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 5016 Archive of our own

Warning : Consensual BDSM / Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Cybersex / Stranger / Flirting … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

-- Part 1 -

The heat of two bodies against one another. Skin upon skin, fingers grazing tenderly. Hands gripping suddenly, forcefully yet securely. I am holding onto dear life on his broad shoulders. My nails digging inside the skin. It makes him grunt in pleasure. I can’t hear it over my own sound of pleasure. My head lolls back, my neck is being attacked. Bites, kisses and words against it. My entire body is aflame. I’m now holding onto the bed head. I’m not surrounded by darkness anymore.

The landscape has changed, I’m not on my bed. It’s a hospital bed. No one is around, someone is on top of me, I can’t see their face. But it feels good. Hot breath against my skin, soft hands on my hips. The increasing pressure inside-

“Hey wake up! If you want to ride with me to campus, you better get your ass out of bed.” I was startled awake by one of my roommates who seemed on edge. From what my brain understood, I was late and from the look on her face, she was pissed.

Squinting my eyes at the sudden light from her brusque action of opening the curtains, I groaned. Her heels hitting the floor made my ears ring, it was too much too quickly but I wasn’t going to say anything. The ginger girl was stopped dead in her track by a hand on her shoulder, a softer voice spoke, “Come on Nami, look at her. Clearly, she went to sleep late again, give her some time to clear her head.” Robin said a lot calmer. With a small smile, she gave me a nod and pushed Nami out of the room.

“You have ten minutes at best, hurry up. She has plans today.”

“And I am hungry, could you make me a sandwich while I get dressed Robin?” I asked with the softest pleading eyes I could manage at this hour. She smiled knowingly in return and nodded, but did not leave until she added, “It’s the last time you leave crumbs on the counter from your midnight snacks.”

With wide eyes, I grimaced and nodded. It made her chuckle as she closed the door behind herself and left without a word.

The moment I was left alone, I remembered the dream I was having and hurriedly got out of bed. “Nasty brain, naughty.” I mumbled while undressing. Sure, erotic dreams weren’t bad, but the fact that I had dreamt about that stranger was something entirely new. Maybe it was to be expected if we interacted more like we did last night, if we had more sessions like last night’s one. Damn, am I that needy for a good fuck? Is this what I’ve become? I thought with a huff.

Once I was dressed, I grabbed my phone and all that I needed for class before leaving the room. On my way out I saw the notification that had popped on my screen, a message from the doctor but it was one from last night.

HandSurgeon: I’ll allow you to call me doc, just because my username is not very adequate when shortened. But watch it.

Looking at it I laughed and wrote back, albeit later than when he had sent his message.

Edelweiss: Good morning to you too, doc. Hope you were able to catch some z’s, because of you I almost missed my class.

Edelweiss: kidding, it’s entire my fault but I want to blame it on you for the fun.

I shoved my phone in my pocket when I heard my two friends’ voices, telling me I needed to hurry and hurry I did. I grabbed the sandwich Robin handed me and thanked her with all my heart, telling her I’d make the food tonight but she told me she’d rather not die of food poisoning at a young age.

“Come on, I can make some things! We’ll order in, then?” I said, leaning on the counter with a grin as I took a bite of the food.

“Careful, Nami has invited her best friend tonight. He’s constantly famished, and eats a large amount of food so I’ll take you up on that offer another day. Now off you go, Nami’s waiting in her car.”

Giving her a thumbs up I leaned off the counter and pondered, “So Nami’s cooking tonight? I see why she’s stressed out now. Anyone else coming by?” I asked quickly. Robin chuckled elegantly, her back leaning against the counter, in front of me, with her arms crossed over her chest. “He might bring one of his friends, but it all depends on his schedule. Nothing definitive yes. Now off you go!” She shooed me, smiling. Most of her classes were in the evening, and yet she woke up that early every day.

It was also fascinating how, even when in her pajamas she looked so dignified.

Without losing any more time, I waved her goodbye and rushed down all the flight of stairs to jump into Nami’s car. “Good morning-“ I closed my mouth when she gestured for me to shut up, pointing at her ear and at the board. Looking at the screen, she was on a call with someone but started the car without another word. I could only hear her replies, but tried not to eavesdrop. To stop myself from falling asleep, I took my phone once more and saw a message from HandSurgeon.

I hated how it sent excitement coursing through my body. Was I remembering the thrill of last night or was I that interested in talking to him? I did not ponder the question longer and opened the app.

HandSurgeon: Good morning Edelweiss. Are you feeling good? Physically.

HandSurgeon: We’ve barely done anything. But don’t worry, you’ll blame me later when we’ll have more fun.

Edelweiss: I’m great, a bit sore but that’s on me.

Edelweiss: don’t threaten me with a good time 😩, you can’t start the horny talk this early in the morning. How do you expect me to focus during my classes?

HandSurgeon: Haha, I’ll stop. Do you have time to talk?

Edelweiss: ominous much? But yes, I do have time to talk. Something on your mind?

A knot formed in my stomach, I started to worry he’d say we couldn’t keep doing this. Would it be that bad? We’d known each other for so little time, it’s not like I couldn’t find someone else to fuck.

I huffed at my own thought, I could find someone else but did they have HandSurgeon’s charisma? Unfortunately, no, I was bound to be horny for a strong doctor that I did not even know the face of.

HandSurgeon: I got a bit too excited last night, I forgot to mention the most important info.

HandSurgeon: Those being: we can stop whenever you’d like. We can try whatever you feel comfortable trying. If you said you were ready to do something, but in the end feel like you can’t do it: tell me. You can change your mind, it works the other way around, too. You can say you want to try something even though you were against it at first.

HandSurgeon: I won’t always be up to… play but I will be willing to help you if you ask nicely. And if I’m awake.

HandSurgeon: Finally, always call me sir, during our sessions.

I hid the relief I fell in real life, when I read all his messages. I did not want Nami to ask me what was wrong, nor who I was texting, but it was hard to hide the satisfied smile on my lips. Pursing my lips, I thought of what to answer without looking too desperate.

Even with the thought put into it, I read my message over a few times and desperation dripped out of it.

Edelweiss: you scared me, I thought you were going to just disappear or something. I’m good with all of this. If I can add one, be honest with me? Like, uh…

Edelweiss: If I’m being too pushy, but you’re busy, tell me, I’ll calm down haha.

Edelweiss: So… I agree to the terms, sir.

I saw him type, then stop. Then type again, before stopping again. Had I said something bad? I was going to put my phone away when he replied.

HandSurgeon: Good girl.

HandSurgeon: Now, I won’t be able to play tonight, but I’ll be free to text if you’d like.

HandSurgeon: It’ll give you time to rest, that way we’ll fuck you good once you’re feeling better.

I choked on my saliva. Why was he this casual saying things like this?

Edelweiss: I-

Edelweiss: I said don’t get me horny, the audacity you have to be that good with your words.

Edelweiss: I’ll be busy tonight too, but I’ll text you if it gets a bit boring.

Edelweiss: Also, are you not like… cutting people open or something? Why would you be awake this early with how late you went to sleep?

HandSurgeon: It’s cute how easy it is to get you flustered. Very interesting too. But I’ll stop for now.

HandSurgeon: Since you’re curious, I’m in bed. I have to meet with my intern in an hour, he’s very eager to learn.

HandSurgeon: Just like you, but maybe I find one more satisfying than the other 😉

Staring at the screen, I hesitated and felt my cheeks heat up. I wanted to be horny and ask him for a picture, or be funny and ask him for a picture. Both could work together, but should I flirt or ask in the most stupid way possible? I was curious if he’d be willing to send anything, I’m sure it’d make my day if he did send me a picture but I did not want him to force him either. You can’t force a dom to do shit, idiot, my common sense told me.

Edelweiss: send pic or fake.

HandSurgeon: Of my intern?

Good fucking lord, I’m an idiot. I typed back quickly, trying to fix my stupidity.

Edelweiss: of you in bed.

Edelweiss: maybe I’m asking for a nude? 🤔

HandSurgeon: Are you, now? What sparked that need? Do tell me. I’ll consider.

Edelweiss: I’m curious, and I wonder if you sleep dressed or not 😳

Hit and run. That’s all I could call what I had done. I dropped that message then locked my screen and stared straight ahead, regretting sending it. I couldn’t delete it since he had probably seen in, considering we were both online at the same time. We were both staring at the conversation, craving for more, awaiting the other’s reply to weight our own answer in return.

Covering my mouth with my hand, I rested my elbow on the small space by the window and felt my heart beat faster. I shouldn’t feel like that, I had literally fucked myself to his guidance hours ago. And yet, there was this stressed from asking him nudes. I mean, I hadn’t asked a dick pic per say… If he slept in pajamas it clearly wouldn’t be a nude, so…

My phone vibrated in my hand, I looked down so quickly my head slipped off my hand and hit the window with a thud. “Are you good? You look nervous, do you have a final today or…” I heard Nami ask. She threw me a side glance but kept her gaze focused on the road.

I was so focused on my own conversation; I had not realized she was done with her call. Had she been watching all of my reaction since then? No… no, probably not.

“I’m good, just need a bit of sugar.” I paused and continued casually, “Robin told me Luffy’s inviting someone tonight? Are you cooking or are you planning on ordering? They better pay their own shit, if we order in.” I grumbled, hoping to make her drop the subject.

I needed to stay focus on what she was saying but my brain was drifting to the pending message on Discord. Fortunately, my distraction worked and she replied, “If he’s coming, I’ll make him pay the entire orders.” She scoffed as she pulled up into the parking, her eyes still focused in front of her. “He owes me, and since it’s last minute, I’ll use that against him to not pay my food.” She added. I laughed at her logic, was it really last minute if she knew he was coming since this morning? Shaking my head, I unlocked my phone and opened the text.

HandSurgeon: [sent an attachment]

While I masked my reaction, my eyes sure widened for the span of a second. On that very screen was a picture of the doctor, or more precisely, his crotch covered with just a thin blanket covering it. I could see the shape of his cock, and it made it more sinful than a full dick pic. The v shape of his lower stomach, along with the happy trail, made the whole thing hotter than it was supposed to be. Is this for fucking real? Thinking for a second it might be a catfish, I finally looked at the rest of the pic and saw a badly torn piece of paper with the word ‘Edelweiss’ scribbled badly on it.

“Damn, who’s is this? Girl, you tapping that?” I quickly turned my phone face down and looked at Nami with what probably looked like guilt. “What? No. I’m on Twitter. I don’t have time to literally fuck around, too busy.” I stated, putting my hand on the door handle as I took hold of my bag.

She was about to say something else, but we spoke at the same time and she let me talk. “What time do you finish? I’ll be done around 5 pm if you’re still there.” I stepped outside the car and slammed it shut, waiting for my ginger friend to join me.

“Around that time too, we’ll head right back home after. I think Luffy and his annoying friend will already be there. I’ll sent you the menu, so that you can pick from it.” She then hurried off when she saw one of her classmates waving her over.

I let out a sigh and looked back at my phone, typing back while marching towards my class.

Edelweiss: Are you kidding me? Dude…

HandSurgeon: I’d prefer you call me doc than dude. Although sir is the most appealing… But what’s wrong?

Edelweiss: You’re telling me, someone that hot is on weird websites when I’m sure anyone would want to fuck you. No offense, but you’re probably very hot, so why are you like… domming online? Instead of your own pretty little sub in real life? Not that I’m complaining! I like it.

HandSurgeon: Schedule is shit. And I’ve been told I’m bitter. But I’m glad you’re enjoying it, I’ll get dressed now. You focus on your class.

Edelweiss: Oh I am definitely enjoying it, a lot.

Edelweiss: by the way, I came to a realization this morning…

Then we sent a message at the same time, I laughed nervously.

HandSurgeon: So you think of me when you sleep? Very cute.

Edelweiss: my brain was slow last night, but like. Did you sext me while in your office?

Edelweiss: maybe I did think of you in my sleep, but I don’t think we need to talk about that, my question is definitely more important.

I almost tripped over nothing, from looking at my phone instead of the path but I managed to make my way to class without a hitch. Throwing my bag over the desk, I sat down and waited for my professor. Checking Discord once more,

HandSurgeon: I did. It’ll happen a lot too.

Edelweiss: damn that means no sexy live for you

I replied without thinking. The loudest sigh escaped my lips, what even did I mean by that? Was I really considering giving him a show? What was I expecting from telling him that? I mean sure, if time goes on and I get more comfortable it could be fun…

HandSurgeon: If that day comes, I’ll be sure to get my earphones. I’m sure you’d actually enjoy the thrill of showing yourself off. Knowing full well I’m watching, maybe with a hand in my pants, ordering you around. There will be a “sexy live”, if you’re comfortable enough… The fact that I’m in my office only adds to the charm. Wouldn’t you say?

I blinked a few times, my thumbs hovering over the keyboard. I typed something then deleted it. I paused and typed again, before deleting it once more. Was he wrong? It was very exciting, just thinking about it. Even more so knowing he was willing to be in that situation, at his desk, looking at me getting off under his command. But also, even more knowing he’d be at his work place, where anyone could walk in on him being in such an embarrassing situation.

HandSurgeon: It looks like you’re speechless. But do answer me, would you get off on knowing someone could walk in? Knowing we could get caught, knowing they could see you fucking yourself on screen just for me. Just to please me. They wouldn’t know it’s you, but you’d know. My good girl fucking herself, showing off her perfectly fuckable body just for me.

I let my head fall back against the seat and took a deep breath. I felt suddenly self-conscious, even though I knew no one knew what was going on, on my screen. And yet, I had to look around to make sure before typing with a lot of hesitance. He hit the spot, I hated how right he was. But I replied in all honesty.

Edelweiss: …

Edelweiss: yes…

Edelweiss: I’d like that…. sir…

Edelweiss: I need to focus on my class, but now I don’t know if I’ll be able since you just went off and made me very much distracted now.

HandSurgeon: My hand slipped.

Edelweiss: the a u d a c i t y, then do tell me where it’ll slip next time 😉

Edelweiss: ok, no. that was bad. I’m trying, I’m not as good as you okay?

HandSurgeon: I think it’s a conversation best kept for late hours, wouldn’t you say?

HandSurgeon: I have to go. Focus on your class, or think of where you’d like my hands to go. The choice is yours, Edelweiss.

HandSurgeon: [send an attachment]

There it was, another picture of him. This time it was his gloved hand gripping the fabric around his thigh tightly, the sleeve of his long shirt was slightly risen. I could catch a glimpse of the hair on his arm but focused on the length of his slender fingers. Of the way his fingertips were digging in his pants, of the lines his muscles drew on the back of his hand and maybe of, once again, the fact that he was sitting at his desk. Instead of replying, I took it in and locked my screen to try and focus on the class.

I never thought I’d have a medical kink, but my thought would sometimes drift off, imagining him in his full surgeon outfit. Sitting on his chair, legs spread open while looking at me with a smirk. What it’d look like, I do not know, but I could only imagine the sultry gaze he could give me while in that position. He’d pat his thigh for me to come over and let me ride it- Shaking the thoughts away, I told myself to focus, and tried my best to keep up to that promise.

The rest of the day, I kept my hands off my phone the best I could. I wanted to keep texting HandSurgeon and have some fun, tease him the way he was teasing me but I did not know how to push his buttons. Suddenly I realized I had never asked what were his kinks. By default, being in control must have been one of them, but I was curious as of what else he enjoyed. I made a mental note to ask him next time we talked, maybe tonight, maybe tomorrow, it all depended on tonight’s fun.

Right, tonight… I don’t even know who’s the guy that’s coming over. Nami said that Luffy’s friend was annoying but maybe she was a bit biased since she was easily frustrated, which was ironic considering her best friend was the most tiring person ever. At some point during the day, she sent me a text with the name of the restaurant we were ordering at and told me to pick whatever I wanted.

Seeing the prices, I had to make sure she had sent me the right restaurant and sent her a text asking if it was alright. Her reply was, “I told you he owed me, he said to choose whatever restaurant I wanted. And I did. He has the money, might as well use it.”

I winced at her words and sent her my choice with a lot of reticence, adding, “If I get yelled that for picking something, even though I don’t know the guy, you’ll pay for my food.” She was quick to reply and told me it’ll be okay. “The dude might bitch and moan about it but he’ll eventually accept it” were her words. I don’t really know if it had helped or worsened my anxiety but I just let her do her thing and went on with the rest of my day without a hitch.

I was able to focus on my classes and assignments after a while, when my brain finally decided to shove the whole HandSurgeon conversation in the back of my head.

The day came to an end right on time. I had done my fair share of thinking for the day and needed a break. Knowing a nice warm meal was waiting for me at my apartment only made things ten times better. I rushed out of my last class with haste, almost bumping into other people and dropping my phone but I caught it before anything dramatic could happen.

When I stepped outside, I was met with a drizzle and had to walk faster to Nami’s car. I was lucky to see she was already there, waiting inside of it with music playing loudly. She was trying to fix her hair the best she could, and gave up when it looked half-decent. A startled gasp escaped her lips when I opened the car door and slipped inside, greeting her, out of breath.

“You scared me!” She gasped, a hand on her chest.

“Is it my fault? You’re on edge, not me.” I huffed, throwing my bag in the back of the car, making the ginger groan when she received a few droplets on her clothes. Apologizing, I buckled my seatbelt and we drove back home in a good mood. Food always lifted spirits, even more so after a draining day. On our way home, Nami started renting on how I will have to keep Luffy’s friend away from her because she couldn’t handle his attitude.

I did not dare ask her what happened but listened carefully. She did not give me any useful information about him, only telling me he was “arrogant, annoying, he’s bitchy and way too cocky because of his job.” I winced and was expecting the worst, probably a business man that was too proud of making money or a politician. No, no… Luffy would never befriend people like that, right?

All kind of ideas simmered in my head until we reached our apartment. I don’t know why, but I was going to knock. I quickly caught myself and unlocked the door, hanging my coat in the entrance as I took off my shoes. “Robin? Have they arrived yet-“ I was cut off when the excited black-haired man came rushing in and wrapped his arms around both Nami and I. She laughed and hugged him back, while I pushed him away, smiling softly. “Hello Luffy, let me get changed first? I smell like a wet dog.” I scoffed.

He agreed and pulled Nami to the side, bringing her to the living room. I did not look their way and instead went back to my room to get changed. Maybe I could catch him before he went to his evening activity? I kind of wanted to have a bit of fun before going back to eat… But then again, did I have time? Humming pensively, I locked my door and stripped naked then pulled out my phone.

Edelweiss: Good evening, can I suggest something? I want to make my evening more fun… maybe have something to look forward to this evening…

I waited a moment, sitting on my desk chair completely naked. It was frisky and I felt well… naked. Was it too bold? Should I just delete the message and get dressed? I did not have time to ponder longer that the little dot next to his name turned green. He had answered.

HandSurgeon: What do you suggest? I’m all ears.

Edelweiss: let’s say… I wanted to keep something inside me the entire evening… like an egg, you know those vibrating egg but like, not turned on because that’d be too much.

Edelweiss: here, this:

Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

I made sure we could see my lower body, the hand holding the toy was right above my thighs and I angled it so he could see most of it. When I sent the picture, I felt the pressure in my stomach grow, maybe he’d refuse and I was getting excited over nothing.

HandSurgeon: I won’t be able to guide you, gorgeous.

HandSurgeon: But… I think it’s a great idea. Although, I need to be sure you’re not too sore to have some fun tonight.

Edelweiss: I’m good, I’m great. Don’t worry, I can definitely handle this. I mean, if you want to, sir.

HandSurgeon: The eagerness ever so present, you’re being very good asking for it. I would hate to punish you.

HandSurgeon: Let’s do it, if you think you can’t take it anymore send me a message and take it out.

HandSurgeon: But I’m sure a good girl like you could take it entire night, wouldn’t you agree?

My answer was to send him a picture of the toy inside me, my free hand gripping my thigh while spreading them wider.

Edelweiss: [sent an attachment]

HandSurgeon: Fuck. A warning next time. I’m not against more pictures, but let me remind you I’m not alone tonight.

HandSurgeon: Or is it what you’re looking for? You want to show off to me, but also to them? The odds of the people here looking at my phone are low, but they’re not null. That’s what gets you off.

I was going to reply but he sent another message that sent something coursing straight between my legs. The throb I managed to numb after this morning’s talk came back without much efforts needed.

HandSurgeon: Maybe to calm that eagerness, we should turn it on? Have you dripping wet for tonight? Would that help with how needy you’re feeling right now? You’d be surrounded by, let’s say your friends. But your thoughts would be nowhere near that, no.

HandSurgeon: You’ll be thinking of me. Of what I’d do to you tonight, looking forward to obey. To be on your knees, in your bed, expectant in front of your screen. Like a desperate girl, pleading for some relief.

My hand slipped on my desk and grabbed the little remote, pressing it to turn the toy on. I let out a shaky breath at the sensation, spread my legs wider to try to press it deeper but finding my attempt fruitless.

HandSurgeon: Get dressed, and go join your friends. I’ll be available to talk in a few.

HandSurgeon: But don’t get too greedy. If you think you’re getting close, you turn it off. I want you begging for an orgasm tonight. Are we good?

Edelweiss: Yes sir. More than good.

Edelweiss: Maybe… maybe I could call you, no video, to do it…

He’ll ask for me to be precise. But I felt like my pride would take a hit if I wrote it down, did I want to beg? I gave it a thought while getting dressed in a fresh pair of clothes. Usually I wouldn’t want to beg, but it felt different here. Maybe I could use this moment to find out more about him, his tastes… his kink.

HandSurgeon: “It”?

Edelweiss: Beg. You want me to beg, I am suggesting to do it on a call. That’s what you want right? You get off on being in a position of power but what else do you like?

HandSurgeon: I’ll have you begging, no matter what. That’s the fun, dear.

HandSurgeon: Now you’re curious about what I like? We’ll talk about it after tonight’s session, right now I have to go. Have fun, be good.

I thought it was going to be child’s play. The vibrations weren’t that strong, and it’s not like there was going to be a lot of things that’d turn me on during a friend gathering. Right? Right. It’s what I thought until I joined everyone in the living room and there stood a definition of handsome. I don’t know what Nami said about him but I’m sure she never mentioned how hot he was.

Nami, Luffy and Robin were sitting on the ground by the low table. They were taking the boxes of food from the bags and giving them to everyone. What caught my eyes was the man sitting in the couch, almost lazily. He was looking at the three people with something close to boredom, his arms spread on the back of the couch.

Suddenly I regret trying to make my evening more fun… Or did I? I’d have to see how the evening go to make an opinion on being in the company of such a beautiful man when I had my own hardship going.

[Part 3]

#trafalgar law #trafalgar one piece #trafalgardwaterlaw #one piece trafalgar law #trafalgar law x reader #law x reader #one piece x reader #law one piece #physicalturian #writer #ao3 writing #ao3 writer #writing #fanfiction #wop #words of pleasure

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imonthinice · 3 years

Text

The Criminal Psychology Majors, Jason Todd x Fem!Reader Part 12/?

Word Count: 4.4k

Author’s Note: Y/N - Your Name, A/N - Any Name (Your Best friend’s name)

God idk what i’m doing with this but i’m liking it lmao

next one might honestly be smut idk

Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Description of Blood, Gets heated, hints at trauma, no beta bitch we die like Jason Todd

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) (Part 9) (Part 10) (Part 11) (Part 12) (Part 13) (Part 14) (Part 15) (Part 16) (Part 17) (Part 18) (Part 19) (Part 20)

Y/N walked through the streets of Gotham, which were once bustling with people, but now were quiet with the occasional hooker, she had caught the city as an unlively hour, where it seemed to sleep the night away while the vigilantes of the area watched it like their lives depended on it. In some ways it did, the stories they would tell when being interviewed were horrific sometimes, but Y/N figured a decent amount of it was for dramatization, to keep the people of Gotham off of the streets to protect them all from it.

The question was always protect them from what, and they never answered. So, it never kept the people of Gotham at bay from the streets at night, and had Y/N’s car not been towed, she would have been driving home in the safe, secluded area of her car, not the vast wilderness of the streets of Gotham.

She looked up at the sky to see one of the virgate boys using a grappling hook to fly to the other building, which was such a sight to behold for someone who never witnessed a superhero beyond Superman at home. She wished and longed to know more about the vigilante, but didn’t dwell or dote on that man, because she didn’t need to.

Something told her that he was watching though, tracing every step she made to make sure she got home in one piece. She thought she was crazy, her life didnt matter more than anyone else in Gotham. He’s not following me, why would he? she thought, Even though I’m dating Jason Todd, they probably don’t know Jason, so my life doesn’t mean much more to them than any one of the hookers along this street. I’m overthinking it.

The walk home took two hours, she left Jason’s at 4am just to find herself back home at 6am, bright and early as the sun rose, ready to greet the day and all it had in store for everyone. But the things it had in store for Y/N was a class and if she was lucky, cuddling with Jason. Nothing more, nothing less.

She would open her front door, unscathed from the journey home, except maybe for a few callouses on her feet, it was the last time she wouldn't pay for more than a day of parking, that’s for sure. Heels were not the shoes you wanted for a two-hour walk home in the Autumn cold, but they were what she had.

She thought about what she was going to do next, and the first thought she had was to shower. Not because she needed to, but because she wanted to nurse the terrible headache she had and to think some things through. What she normally did in the shower.

She wanted so much more from so much of her life. the main offender of seemingly not being enough for her was Jason. Not because she didn’t want more, but because she craved more from him. He was injured, so she wouldn’t get much more rom him for the time being, and it stung a little for her. She just wanted him, maybe sexually, maybe in a more romantic setting or maybe just on her couch on a Thursday afternoon. It was all three of those options and she knew it.

She pulled out of the shower and looked at the time, 6:50am. Okay, she thought, little more time than I wanted to spend in the shower, but I guess the universe had different plans for me today. What else do you have for me, universe? And how much of you plan involves Jason?

She would open her phone after quickly getting dressed. While she still cared for her appearance, she didn’t want to dress like she owned a law firm every day, so she didn’t. Just black jeans and a black top and she felt like a million bucks.

Just some quick outfit inspo. I like doing these a lot. I think fashion is funky :))

Artemis had sent her a message asking where she was at around 4am, she wondered why the time, but she then remembered that Artemis’ boyfriend worked with Dick Grayson, who was Jason’s brother, who worked most nights until radical hours of the night. The chances that he saw her on her two-hour walk home was high, but the chances that that had also made it back to Jason was higher. She knew she was in for it.

Hey sorry, I was at Jason’s. Fell asleep in his arms the whole shebang. And yeah, that was me who screamed the yo momma joke at the press. It was super childish, I know, but I don’t care. Those fucks are sucking my life force out of me and harassing my boyfriend, even your boyfriend.

She would then look at the articles calling her a gold digger and worth-nothing childish insulter of the press. She laughed. If the press wanted a fight from her, she was more than willing to oblige and load the canons.

She didn’t know how to fight back that well, since it was a mainly verbal fight, and she barely even knew how to fight physically, hence all the running and non-confrontational arguments she had had to the press.

And like fucking clockwork, Jason texted her.

Did you walk home alone or are my brothers lying bastards?

I walked. I knew someone saw me, fuck.

Why did you walk home? I thought you drove here?

I did, but we spent more than 12 hours together Jason. I didn’t buy enough hours, suddenly my car was being towed.

You could have asked for a ride home from Alfred! He would have in a heartbeat.

I was going to! But I got distracted and it all became a blur and suddenly I was part of the way home in the dark by myself!

What if you had gotten hurt?

Well, I saw one of the vigilantes of the city on the rooftops, I’m sure if I screamed they would have seen me. They always do see that stuff.

So, your car got towed huh?

Yeah, I don’t know when I’ll be able to pay it off. It’s not exactly like money my parents give me should go to my car getting towed because I got fucked over by seeing my boyfriend.

You’ll figure it out. Sorry about the car, that’s got to suck fucking ass.

You think? I’m stuck taking the fuckin’ subway till I get my car back. I hate the subway, too many people. Far too many people. Too many eyes. It gets stressful really quickly. Might just walk every where honestly, I can’t deal with the eyes of strangers.

But you’re a C-list celebrity.

Internet is different. I can just block the bad eyes and move on with my life, you should see my block list now that some people are connecting my name to the girl who flipped off the press, thank god Twitter has a fuckin block feature.

You should really just meet my family so you don’t have to run away before they get home, would probably cause you a lot less financial stress, Y/N.

I’ll think about it.

You should think a little harder about it. I don’t want you to get your car impounded ‘cause you’re seeing me, why did you even park in pay-to-park?

Did you not see the massive mob trying to get to you? It was impossible for me to even try to pull into the driveway. Hence why I’m being insulted, you know, ‘cause I yelled at the press to get them to leave me alone. I fucking hate the press, you’re stabbed, severely injured last time they got information, and they’re harassing me, asking me what I like to do on the weekends.

Fucking vultures. Yeah, I’ve seen that. I’ve read the articles. But that’s the press for you, absolute trash and spitting bullshit in everyway.

Fucking hate the press, that’s for damn sure. Despise them. I won’t ever change that, even if, knock on wood, we break up.

Praying we don’t break up so I can see you lose your shit at the press when you’re bored.

She would get up to go make some coffee, since it was closer to 7:20am and if her roommate woke up, she could just tell her to get up anyway.

The press can suck my dick. she said.

You have a dick?

Oh yeah. Massive. 20ft long. It probably won’t even fit all the vultures.

Oh my god, that’s not as big as mine.

lmfao is it now?

Oh yeah.

Nice.

Anyway, my brothers are staying home from school today, I think they’re making me play Resident Evil 8 with them? You know that game?

Of course. Everyone in that game is infinitely hot.

Are you bi?

I don’t know. Haven't thought that far ahead to actually label myself. I just like people. Sometimes it’s men, sometimes it’s women. But you have to agree when you see them all. That game came out when I was still in high school, so I’ve played the entire thing. My phone background is actually one of the characters.

Which one?

I’ll show you if I come over tonight.

My brothers might be in my room, though.

Okay, but, RE8 is an amazing game. So, worth it.

You won’t meet them normally but I pull out a game you love and you’re down?

I’m very easy to convince.

You still have notes to write when you come over though.

Oh yeah, I was probably going to have to come over both ways, just because I need those notes and you do too.

Do you not own a printer?

I barely even own a laptop, I’m waiting for my old one to come in the mail.

How do you even manage?

With a whole lot of will and spite, anything is possible.

And that’s when her discord group chat @’ed her. She was on Do Not Disturb because she was Jason, and apparently they missed her.

Y/N! C’mere. One said.

Yes? Whatduhya want nerds?

We’ve decided to hold a fake internet wedding between you and Christopher. Another said.

A what.

We’re getting married!

Sometimes I wish I never left Metropolis and then I remember you fucks live there. Why are we doing this? You do know I have a boyfriend right? She asked them.

I don’t know, we’re bored and we miss you. We can have a bachelorette party in Gotham, if you want.

I’m this close to going back on DND.

The group chat was made way back when they had all first met in grade 9 and had been active ever since. They all had stayed in the city when they graduated though, but since Y/N received a scholarship, fully paid for, she took the opportunity and jumped.

They were some of her closest friends, even if they lived in a different city to her now, even if they were all busy with school, even if she was busy with school and a boyfriend, A lot of her life wouldn’t be complete without her crack friends in her hometown.

They had all ben partying like crazy while she was gone, and if she wasn’t so hung up in her own life, she’d probably be down there with them.

Before you do, can you please explain why you’re screaming at the press, lmao.

Because fuck the press, dude. Why else?

What did they do to you?

Have you seen the recent articles?

That’s true.

She laughed and finished her coffee. Jason had not responded yet, she assumed his brothers were either checking on him or they had started the game. It was around 8am when A/N finally left her room.

“I thought you were staying with Jason?”

“I was, but then I remembered he has like 9 siblings and I’m not about to meet them all. Then I walked home.”

“You walked?”

“Car got towed.”

“Fuck, can you afford the bill? I can’t.”

“Nope.”

“Guess we’re going to take the subway for a while, huh.”

She sighed and put her cup in the sink, “At least you don’t have school to go to and your lover comes to meet you, I have shit to do and places to be,” she frowned, “Inconvenient.”

“Could you borrow money from Jason’s dad?”

“I don’t borrow money from family, it’s hard enough for me to accept the money my parents send me.”

“I know it is, when’s your class?”

“3pm, I’ll be leaving at 12pm though, because the subway is unreliable.”

“This is going to be a hard hit for us.”

“Well, it’s not like it’s fucking your credit. Mine’s tanking.”

“You’ll pull through it.”

-------------------------------------------

She got onto the subway at 12:30pm. She really hated the way it was running. The people, the faces, the staring eyes of unwanted attention. People knew who she was and she hated it. She didn’t like the attention, she just liked the fucking with people. She wanted to get off the subway the minute she got on.

She eventually couldn’t take it and got off a few stops away, there was still a substantial walk towards the college, but she knew it would be. She even brought a leather jacket with her so that she could walk if she couldn’t take it anymore.

And there she was, in the busy streets of Gotham, walking to her college. Barely aware of the people who did stare at her, because she just kept walking, lost in her thought but aware of the people in her trail, the cross walks and the lights she was waiting for occasionally. She just kept walking until Artemis met up with her,

“Hey! I didn’t know you were walking to school today,” Artemis said.

“Oh! I didn’t want to, my car got towed though.”

“Your car got towed? That sucks so much. Well, we’re going the same way, so I’ve decided I’m going to walk with you, you get no say.”

“Of course. I was going to ask if you wanted to,” she laughed, “It’s more fun with a friend anyway, Art.”

“So, how are things with you and Jason, I’m legally obliged to ask as one of his friends.”

“Well, we made it official if that’s the kind of thing you want to hear,” she laughed again, “I’m sure it’s the answer Dick will eat up.”

“You’re right about that one. Dick’s a sucker for a romantic story, you should write one, since you write. He’d probably read it all.”

“Well, that would be fun, but I still don’t have my laptop.”

“You could use Jason’s?” Artemis suggested..

“Nah. It’ll be fine,” she said, “I’ll manage.”

“Aren’t you collecting notes for him for your psychology class?”

“I am, it’s not like he can go anywhere. I actually told him he’d need to walk eventually so that it’s not a learning curve when he’s healed.”

“That’s what all of us are telling him too, he’s a stubborn man, good luck with that one,” Artemis laughed, “He’s always been the stubborn friend. Worse than Will, actually, and Will is really bad with being stubborn.”

“It’s fine,” she laughed, “If you asked any of my Metropolis friends they’d say the same about me.”

“I bet you were quite the wild child in your heyday back in your city,” Artemis laughed, “I hate Metropolis.”

“Who doesn’t? It’s so crowded.”

“Uh, Clark doesn’t. He thrives there, no idea why, he grew up in Smallville. If anyone should be uncomfortable with Metropolis it should be the small-city country boy, but I guess it’s his thing.”

“I forget you know everyone.”

“We know a lot of people, are you’re slowly being let into our massive circle of very well-known people. Welcome to the group, I guess,” she laughed, “You'll either hate or love the fame that comes from this.”

“Well, if its paparazzi and press, I think I’ll hate it.”

“I can promise you right now that it’s not all paparazzi and press, we haven’t been bothered today, probably because we are on the move.”

“You shouldn’t say that, you’ll jinx it.”

“I know a lot about not jinxing it, but that’s a story for another time,” Y/N noticed that when Artemis said this her eyes glazed over and she looked upset.

“You don’t ever have to talk to me about something you’re not ready to talk about,” Y/N reassured her.

“Hey, the trauma makes me funny.”

“Two can play that game.”

They would ramble on for the rest of the walk to their college. Nothing really of substance, just getting to know each other further. She was glad she found a friend in Artemis, it would have sucked if the two of them didn’t get along, but with each word they exchanged, they had so much fun.

She even told Artemis about that time she played Katherine Howard in her school’s budget play of Six - The Musical. She was proud of the riffs she was able to do, but she didn’t talk about it often. She was never the type of brag about her achievements, no matter how amazing they were.

But Artemis and Y/N parted ways and Y/N went to her class and wrote the same, boring, scribbly and barely legible notes. She figured eventually she’d need nicer handwriting, but did she want to work on it? No.

When she finished, she saw Artemis and who she could only assume to be Wally, at Artemis’ class doors. She waved to Artemis, before Artemis called her over.

“Y/N! Hey, I would ask how class is, but this is Wally,” she gestured to the red-head boy beside her, and Y/N held out her hand to shake Wally’s.

“Hi, Wally.”

“Y/N. It’s nice to meet you since Jason can’t shut up about you and my girlfriend likes you a lot.”

“Well that's sweet of you Artemis. You’re just so in love with me,” Y/N joked.

“Girl. You know it,” Artemis joked back.

“You two already have a close bond? That’s impressive,” Wally said, “Never seen anyone win over any of my friends this quickly,” he muttered.

They joked for a little while longer, just getting to know Wally before she had to go, she had to get to Jason’s.

The walk was a while away, so she went and sat on a park bench for a minute to check her phone, Jason had texted her.

Hey baby, are you coming over?

I am, yes. I actually just met Wally.

You met Wally and I wasn’t there to see it? C’mon.

Artemis introduced us! Go yell at her.

Oh. Never mind. I won’t do that.

Ha! Scared of her?

Maybe a little, she can be scary, okay?

You can’t tell but I’m laughing at you.

Dhmu.

That’s fine, I’ll just go hang out with Alfred and not you. He seems like he would be spiteful like me.

That’s unfair.

I thought you said don’t hit me up?

Fuck.

Checkmate.

I am upset.

No you’re not.

No I’m not.

She would walk down the street further, maybe within a couple steps to reach the Manor, when a man dragged her into an alleyway. She yelped.

“Uh, hello? Can I help you?” she asked, pretending she wasn’t terrified.

“How much would Bruce give me for you?” the attacker mumbled before he tried to knock her to the ground, but she had another plan.

He grabbed her, put his face close to hers, and she head-butted him, he would stumble back, and she started running to the Manor.

“Come here you fucking bitch!” he screamed. She could feel her nose bleeding as she ran and ran, the security saw her and pulled her into the gateway before drawing their guns and urging her to run to the steps of the Manor.

And she ran. The security at the door saw her and let her in, and yelled for Alfred.

“What is this nonsense, oh,” Alfred paused when he saw the blood running out of Y/N’s nose, “Miss Y/N, what happened to you?” he asked before grabbing her hand and pulling her into the entry-way bathroom and opening a first-aid kit.

“Okay so, what happened was I was walking to the Manor because my car got towed right? And this fucking bastard dude pops out from an alleyway and pulls me into it, asks some bullshit about how much Bruce would pay for me, when he grabbed me and tried to knock me down, when I head-butted him and started running,” she said, completely unphased.

Alfred didn’t respond to her and started to stop the bleeding when Bruce called for him, “In the entry-way bathroom, Master Wayne!” he answered.

Bruce came around the corner and saw Alfred was already tending to Y/N, “Well, this is the event where I meet my son’s girlfriend, when she is bleeding and running from a strange man in an alleyway.”

“Heh, sorry,” she said and outstretched her hand to shake his, “It’s nice to finally meet you, Bruce.”

“I can tell you’re going to be quite the addition to this household,” he said as he took her hand and shook it, “As long as you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

“That’s good. I guess you can’t get mad at Jase for being a reckless man now.”

“I really can’t.”

“Alright, you should be good, Miss Y/N.”

“Thank you, Alfred. But you really didn’t have to.”

“I’ve been taking care of 5 boys and 3 girls since most of them were little, Miss Y/N. A little blood is really no big deal for me to handle.”

“That’s obvious.”

“You can go see the boys now, they’re going to ask you though,” Bruce said.

“I know.”

She walked to Jason’s room, hoping that he wouldn’t have all of his siblings in the room, he did though.

“Hey, Y/N- what the fuck happened to you?” Jason exclaimed when she opened the door.

“Oh great, all your siblings are here. Anyway, I guess,” she paused, taking in a big breath so she could run through the events quickly, “So I was walking here ‘cause my car got towed, right? When some fucking bastard man grabs me and yanks me into an alleyway and starts going off about how much Bruce will pay him to get me back or something,” she paused again, “And when he tried to knock me down by getting really close and personal to my face, like an idiot I should add, I head-butted him.”

“You did what?’

“I’m not done yet, met your dad when I actually had blood running out of my nose because that's just my fucking luck. Okay, now you can be disappointed in me,” she joked.

“I will say again, you did what?”

“Something stupid?” she said.

“You could say that again, my god, what went through your head?”

“Uh, nothing. Just survival. Fight or flight but I head-butted a man, and hi, everyone.”

“Hi, Y/N, I’m Dick,” Dick said, “You clearly are meant for Jason,” he joked, “That's something he would do.”

“Don’t encourage her, Dick!”

Stephanie got up and greeted her, “You know, Y/N, I always wanted a crazy sister,” she joked, “I’m Stephanie, the black-haired girl is Cass, and the red-head is Barbara.”

“Me too,” Cass hopped onto the joke.

“It’s something else when you meet the girl your brother is dating after she head-butted a man, apparently,” Y/N laughed, “I know it’s far-fetched-”

“Not really,” Tim cut her off, “You know Jason protected Will when they were attacked?”

“That’s Tim, by the way,” Dick said.

“So you can’t yell at me for head-butting a man!” Y/N joked at Jason while going to sit beside him, he slinged an arm around her shoulder and leant his head into her head.

“Well, you seem like a nice enough girl,” Barbara said, “Take away the reckless behavior, and you are lovely.”

“That is valid, to be honest. Not exactly the way you want to meet your brother’s girlfriend.”

“You think?” Jason asked, sarcastically.

“Ha ha.”

“See, she thinks I’m funny, why can’t you fucks?”

Y/N laughed and then asked Dick, who was playing RE8 at the time, staring at the photo of Donna Bentiveno, “She’s cute, isn’t she, Dick?”

“Have I been staring?”

“Let’s just say Angie is probably very pissed at you.”

“Oh! Whoops. There’s a point to this, I forgot.”

“I don’t blame you, I remember forgetting there was a point and the little bitch devil doll would attack you.”

“Language.”

“Oh no, you’re lame. Gross.”

“Excuse me?” Dick asked as the rest of the room erupted in laughter.

“Do you guys see why I like her now?” Jason asked.

“Uh no, she’s mean,” Dick said.

“You’re going to die if you don’t start paying attention, Dick,” Y/N said.

“Oh!” and he died.

“And that kids, is why we listen to the person who’s 100%’ed the game.”

------------------------------

Y/N and Jason would spend hours with his brothers and sisters until the sun started to set and they all scattered to their own rooms to do their own things. you can’t keep a lot of kids in one room for so long.

Once everyone left, Y/N placed her hands on Jason and kissed him, she was actually able to be laid on his pillow, he was able to pin her to the bed. And they did just that. He was on top of her, using his one arm to prop himself up and using his other hand to touch her face.

Her hands found their way into his hair like they always did, she found a lot of joy in playing with his hair. Their tongues danced together, they never fought or anything, they just enjoyed each other when Jason let out a small moan and she let out a small laugh.

“Keep it in your pants, Tiger,” she joked, “You’re not fully healed.”

“You literally smashed your face into another man but I can’t moan when I kiss you?”

“Because I know you want more.”

“Hell yeah I do,” he said as he went back for more, actually using his strength to keep her to the bed, but she didn’t protest this time.

33 notes · View notes

vaniri · 3 years

Text

Helping hand [Johnny Silverhand x V]

On their way home from Clouds, Johnny decides to end V’s life. Or help her, she is not sure anymore ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Contains all the good stuff: fingering, a bit of dirty talk (at least until V tells Johnny to shut up), Johnny being Johnny™, and public embarrassment. Does not contain: plot. Who needs that?

18+ only, obviously

As always, HUGE THANKS and I LOVE YOU to @ugh-my-back for helping me out with this little creation and doing the beta 🥺❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

______________________________________________________

Johnny felt almost sorry for that pathetic piece of unfortunate shit he’d been involuntarily attached to. She had a simple task – go to a brothel, get the information she needed, get laid because that’s why you go to establishments of that kind, and leave. And literally nothing went according to plan: she didn’t learn much, got fucking psychoanalyzed instead of laid, and was shot at on her way out because she had to sniff around, having the sneaking skills of a drunk teenager. Only V could have that luck.

“I said that getting off was waiting for you in Clouds? I take it back.” He mocked her, materializing in the passenger seat of her car. “Was almost right about getting offed, though.”

“Please shut up and go back to pretending you don’t exist.” Tired and exasperated after what she’d been through, she didn’t even shoot him a glance, trying to focus on the road.

“I left you there for five minutes, so you could get shagged in peace, and not only did you fuck that up but also wound up in a shooting turned massacre. You should have just fucked that doll and bailed, like any normal person would."

"We weren't there to fuck anyone, remember?"

"Yeah, and we should be. You should be. Tell me, V, is your cunt sealed with cobwebs already? Because I scoured your memories, out of boredom, and it’s been a long, loooong while since you had some action there."

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, there too.”

“You really know how to brighten the day, don’t you?”

“And you really don’t feel how sexually frustrated you are? Because I do.” He turned in his seat to face her. Being a woman was fucked up in general, he found out - all these hormones and stuff Johnny didn't even try to understand - but the level of stress she was living under was absolutely crushing. The majority of it was obviously caused by the chip and everything that was going on in V's life lately, but a part of it, not a small one, came from her sexual starvation. And lack of sleep. Or maybe her abstinence led to insomnia, Johnny wasn’t sure anymore. All he knew was that she – they – were constantly tired as of late. And horny. Very horny. “And I don’t like it a bit. If I were you, I’d start jerking off right here and now.”

“Please don’t.” A look of dread flitted across her face.

“I won’t. But you should.”

“I’m driving, if you haven’t noticed. I really want to get us home in one piece, and as soon as possible.” She needed a shower and some takeout to make herself feel better, and maybe a cold one too. ”So eyes on the road, hands on the wheel.”

“Fine. I’ll lend you a hand, then.”

“I don’t think you’ll be able to drive a car. You’re not corporeal, you know.”

“I was rather thinking about fingering you.”

“WHAT?”

��Eyes on the road.” He chided her, visibly amused by the utter horror showing on her face. “I’m just saying that I want to help you. No strings attached, don’t worry. Treat it as a friendly favor.”

“We aren’t friends.”

“Aww, V, that hurt.”

“Good. Now fuck off.” She seemed adamant, but he noticed that her hands, now gripping the wheel for dear life, were shaking a little. She was both abashed by the thought of being this intimate with Johnny and genuinely thinking about it. Considering. Imagining.

He knew her thoughts. He lived in her brain and he could read her like an open book. He knew exactly the effect he had on her and what she was thinking about him, he knew about her fascination and curiosity. And her constant denial about it.

It wouldn’t be hard to get what he wanted, never had been for him. And all he currently wanted was to get in her pants.

“Come on V, I’ve seen the thoughts that keep you awake at night. All of them. These about me too.” He purred, caressing her taut arm with his silver fingers. “I’m not going to tease you about them. Just want you to know that I know about your little fantasies. And appreciate your taste.”

“Sure.” She murmured, flustered.

“I will gladly show you that reality can be even better. If you let me.” He put his organic hand on her thigh. She didn’t immediately push it off, which was a promising sign. “So, what do you say? Will I get a yes? I may be an asshole and love sex way too much, but I would never go on someone without clear consent.”

“How considerate of you.”

“I’m serious, V. And I really just want to help. If you don’t blow off some steam anytime soon we’re both going to explode. Not the best way to go, trust me on that.”

Johnny saw how intensely she was thinking about it, processing what she had heard, weighing pros and cons. And he was waiting patiently for her answer, gently but not intrusively massaging her leg.

“If you ever mock me about it, or use it against me, I will rip both your silver arm and your cock off. Somehow.” She warned with a serious glare, finally giving up. She spread her legs a little, inviting his hand further, her face turning bright red.

“I would never. But eyes on the road, please.” He reminded her, an amused smile plastered on his face. His hand snuck past the hem of her trousers, rubbing the soft skin of her lower abdomen. “Smooth.”

“Not for you.”

“Yeah yeah, I know.” His hand continued its journey down her groin. V’s breath hitched in her throat and body squirmed involuntarily when he dragged his fingers along her folds. “Easy girl, I barely touched you.”

“Should I maybe pull over somewhere?”

“And make a show for everyone passing the car by? Kinky.” Johnny leaned towards her, his lips nearly touching her earlobe. He was so close that V could feel his hot breath on her skin and smell the stench of his favorite cigarettes lingering on him. As if he was real, she thought. She couldn’t dwell on it for long though, not with his hand skillfully stroking her slit, up and down, in a steady pace. “Just focus on the road. And try not to come after five seconds, deal?”

He cupped her crotch and a breathy “yes” was the only response V managed to give.

Her pussy was just as Johnny had expected – hot and slick, already dripping, craving stimulation his fingers were so eager to provide. He had so many plans for her, yet so little time, considering how touch-starved and sensitive V was. He thought that maybe he should suggest to fuck her properly, but in their current position it had to wait. Slightly disappointing, but Johnny was fine with that. He loved sex, but watching his girls squirm and moan under his touch was even ten times better than coming himself.

“Nice little cunt you have here.” He tested the waters, slipping one finger in. “Tight and wet, definitely my type.”

“Just stop talking and do what you have to do.” V had a really hard time focusing on the road. She already slowed down, trying her best not to crash into a lamp or another car, and Johnny’s words were making the situation even more challenging.

“And where’s the fun in that?” He was already fingering her deeply, setting a fast pace. ”Without telling you how much I appreciate your body? By the way, have I mentioned that your tits are fucking great?” Johnny’s metal hand cupped her breast, causing soft gasp to escape her mouth. “Amazing. I’d cu-“

“Stop. Talking. PLEASE.”

“Alright, alright, mouth shut. For now.”

Watching V try to keep her body and its reactions under control, while his slick fingers with her juices started massaging her clit, was fun. And dosing her pleasure like he wanted amused Johnny even more. He stopped his ministrations every time V bucked her hips up trying to rub against his hand, or did anything to get more friction, a wry smile twisted at his lips when she shot him a furious glance or made a discontent sound. Yes, it was supposed to be a quick finger fuck, but how could he finish it so fast when he was enjoying it so much? How could he deny himself having his fun with her, having her all to himself like that, a little longer?

Johnny was reluctant to admit it, but truth to be told, he’d had his eyes on her almost from the beginning. V was a woman - an attractive one, there was no doubt for that - and he was a simple man. He couldn’t resist watching her when she was changing or taking a shower (she knew), or even sleeping sprawled on her bed, with that stupid smile on her blissful face. He wanted to see more of her, and sometimes he caught himself thinking of touching her, feeling her in this way. He tried to convince himself that he felt like that because of his fifty years of celibacy, that she wasn’t his type and it was just his cock speaking. But there was something about V, something that attracted him to her like corpo scums attracted his bullets.

And to be honest, did he even have a type? Pretty face, a pair of tits, willing cunt and nice ass - that was enough to get him going. And V fitted that description perfectly.

To V’s relief, and Johnny’s probably too as his existence depended on whether she was alive or not, their car got stuck in a traffic jam, huge as always at this hour in this part of Night City. Now she could fully focus on Johnny and his hand, working its magic in her pants.

She shifted in her seat, adjusting her position to give him better access to her already dripping entrance. He immediately accepted her invitation, sliding a finger inside, one at first, then second, slowly, giving V time to get used to the stretch. He fingered her deeply, in a steady pace, reveling in the squelchy sounds his hand was making, smiling widely every time a breathy moan escaped her parted lips. Sometimes it was just incoherent babbling, sometimes a mantra of “fuck”s. But then, when she was close to coming, it was mostly his name.

“Such a good girl.” He praised her, getting back to stroking her clit. “Ready to cum?”

“Yes, fuck, don’t stop.”

“I want to feel it.”

His fingers were back inside her pussy, picking up the pace, fucking her harder than before. He was determined to give her the best finger fuck of her life, and after seeing her memories he knew that there wasn’t much to compete with. V had had several partners in her life but, obviously, none of them could measure up to Johnny Silverhand and he was keen to show her why he was so popular among women back in his days. He put his entire heart into working her cunt up and it quickly paid off. V was completely lost in pleasure; her head fell back, eyes closed, moans turned into wails.

She put out quite a show and was so busy chasing her release that she didn’t notice that the guy in the car next to theirs was watching her intensely with a mixture of concern and fascination on his face. She was sure a sight to behold: disheveled, flushed and panting like after running a marathon, and rutting her needy cunt furiously against Johnny’s hand. A hand only she could see. A sudden wave of anger surged through Johnny. Back in his younger days he was quite a fan of public sex, never afraid of being caught, and to be honest not much changed in that matter. He would gladly show this loser who V belonged to and who was making her scream, force him to bashfully avert his eyes and never look at her again. But sadly, he couldn’t, and that frustrated him immensely.

He couldn’t even show that fucker a middle finger. Being dead sucked.

“V, could you do something for me?” Luckily, he had another idea.

“What?” She opened her eyes, looking at him questioningly.

“Scream my name so loud that the entire Watson knows who's making you cum.”

She wanted to snort at his request, but her breath hitched in her throat when Johnny’s lips landed on her neck with a sloppy kiss, escaping it as a loud moan seconds later when his metal hand began working on her clit. And with his organic fingers hitting that right spot inside her, she couldn’t hold back anymore.

Never in her life had V come so hard before. She couldn't control her squirming body, nor her cussing mouth, when waves of pure ecstasy shot through her one after another. She felt her walls clench rhythmically around Johnny’s fingers, still pumping in her to prolong her orgasm, and she cried out his name, begging him to not stop. It was mind-blowing, absolutely breathtaking, and when his lips kissed her exposed neck again, she felt another kind of warmth pool in her chest.

Johnny could feel it all too. Delayed and not as intense as her climax, but strong enough to make him feel spent and satisfied. He flopped back on his seat and reached for his never ending pack of cigarettes, lighting one and taking a long puff, as he always did after a good fuck.

“Feeling better?”

“Yeah.” V was slowly coming down from her orgasm high. “Holy shit.”

“And that’s all? Where’s some ‘Thanks Johnny’, ‘You were right Johnny’?”

“Thank you Johnny.”

“See? It wasn’t that hard.” He patted her thigh. “And speaking of hard, that guy in the car on our left was watching you the whole time. And he’s still looking.”

“You gotta be kidding me.” She covered her face with her hand, realizing with embarrassment that she probably gave people around her quite a show. It must have looked exceptional from their perspective. Or maybe not, maybe she looked as if she was just enjoying a BD of a particular sort. Still, she felt pretty awkward.

“Let’s get out of the car and kick his ass, wipe this stupid smile off his stupid face.”

“No.” She didn’t even want to look in that guy’s direction right now.

“Pussy. At least show him a middle finger or something.” Johnny immediately flipped him off with both hands. “Come on, V. Fucker deserves it.”

She sighed and reluctantly, still not looking at her accidental spectator, she did as Johnny asked.

#cyberpunk 2077 #johnny silverhand #johnny silverhand x v #SilverV #cyberpunk 2077 fanfiction #fanfiction #duck pecks her keyboard

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oyaterriblyfunnyreallywitty · 3 years

Text

Strawberries & Cigarettes

Warnings: falling in love with a fictional character

Word count: 1524

Summary: In a twisted turn of events Draco is smitten by muggle reader. Based on the song Strawberries + Cigarettes by Troye Sivan.

Remember when we first met, you said “light my cigarette”

Draco had opposed fervently to the idea but he was out number, three imbeciles to one sane man. That is how he found himself in this dodgy alley in muggle world which he wished he could just vanish out of; just to be clear, he could. Draco just couldn’t bring himself to leave behind Crabbe, Goyle, and Zabini unsupervised inside that muggle dance room, he could think of a few distasteful endings to that scenario.

“Hey,” a girl’s voice cut through the silent night air, “do you have a light?”

His face turned into his signature scowl, muggles. Such dependent creatures, couldn’t she see he was busy sulking? He didn’t turn in her direction in hopes she’d just wonder off into the night and leave him to his own thoughts.

“Helloooo! Earth to blondie. Can you light my cigarette?” she’d said with a playful chuckle as she grew closer. His head snapped, how dare she- but the anger at her insolence quickly melted at the sight in front of him. Her beautiful y/e/c eyes had struck his heart the minute they’d met his. She was a deadly combination in that black dress which hugged her body in all the right places, her y/h/c hair framing her angelic face as she flashed him a smile. He swallowed. He was reaching for his wand, the word ‘lumos’ on the tip of his tongue when the girl leaned forward, cigarette still in mouth looking up at him.

Muggle.

Right! He drew his hand away from his wand quickly as if he’d been burned and gave her an awkward smile, “I actually don’t have one.”

“That’s fine, it was just an excuse you know.” She said giving him a sly smile as she tucked the cigarette into the small pink purse that hung over her shoulder and looked back at him.

“Y/n.” she said reaching out a hand.

“Draco, Draco Malfoy.” He said straightening up and reaching to shake her small hand, a surely stupid looking grin finding its way onto his face.

“Oh, are we doing the James Bond type of introduction?” She said letting out a small laugh at her idea of a joke.

“Uh.” he didn’t get it.

“Don’t tell me you’ve never watched James Bond!?” an incredulous y/n stared at him.

“Not really, wha-“ he felt inadequate, he didn’t know anything about muggles, how would he ever keep this charade up.

“That’s a CRIME!” she shouted the last word, “I can help you there.” She said nodding to herself and giving him a crooked smile as she began the longest one-sided conversation in the history of speech.

Muggles, such fascinating creatures, he’d thought as they walked down the empty streets with her talking him through the storyline of each James Bond movie until the sky began to lighten.

But we couldn’t go very far cause you locked your keys in your car so you sat and stared at my lips and I could already feel your kiss

The hot summer sun was scorching and Draco decided muggle ice cream was their best invention to date. He watched as y/n licked her strawberry ice cream cone and smiled as a pink dot appeared on the tip of her nose deciding he’d let her keep it. He’d gotten the green mint scoop against y/n wishes and he liked it very much.

“You have got to be JOKING!” He heard her yell as she rummaged through her purse.

“What?” Draco asked as he took another spoonful of the minty goodness.

“I left the keys in the car.” She said finally returning to her ice cream cone after one single minute of searching.

“Are you sure you looked everywhere?” If he didn’t know any better he would’ve thought she’d done an undetectable extension charm on that bag of hers, always losing stuff in there as if there were no end in sight to it.

“Mhm.” Y/n said, taking another lick as she eyed their surroundings. “I’ll text my mum to bring me my other set of keys, lets go wait there.” She pointed to a big tree across the street.

Lucky for the both them there was in fact a park right across from where they stood that was willing to provide some relief from the unforgiving sun with its trees.

Draco was sat with his knees up to his chest, still savoring the last bit of his mint ice cream.

“Oh, but that you can find.” He said with a snicker as y/n pulled out a cigarette, a nasty vice that’d brought them together. “How does that even work?” he said scrunching his nose and eyeing her other hand still holding her cone.

She was laughing, “Hey, hey, you gotta take the good with the bad. Now hold this.” She said handing him the cone.

He sat down his own, now empty, ice cream cup and held onto the strawberry cone. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye. She was still struggling to start a flame with her lighter so he gave the ice cream a quick lick, then another, it was quiet good. Tasted like authentic strawberries. He should’ve gotten the strawberry one.

“HEY!” y/n said laughing, “I TOLD YOU! Now you have to live with your decisions.” She said taking the cone back despite still working on lighting the cigarette.

“Fine.” He sat there, contemplating going back to the store for a different flavored cup when he inhaled a mouthful of smoke.

It sent him into a fit of coughing with y/n profusely apologizing.

In the end, his near death experience, got him to keep the strawberry cone.

They sat there until the sun felt bearable and then some more.

“So, when do you go back?” y/n asked, her cigarette long put out but its scent still lingering.

“Wha-Oh, yes. I should be going back by the end of the summer.” He hadn’t told her the full truth about being a wizard, but boarding school had been convincing enough.

“That’s,” she counted on her fingers, “four days from now.” She finished, her face falling.

“Yeah.” He said, leaning his head back into the trunk of the tree, for once, wishing he too were a mere muggle.

He felt her shift besides him and turned to her, their eyes met and he recognized the look. She kept glancing from his lips back to his eyes, a universal sign amongst wizards or muggles. He cupped her cheek with his hand, took one last look look into her y/e/c eyes, and dove in head first.

In years to come all he would remember from that afternoon would be the taste of strawberries and cigarettes.

And y/n, always y/n.

Remember when you taught me fate, you said it’d all be worth the wait

Alas, time was unforgiving, and tonight was their last night in muggle world. Zabini’s father, the most unorthodox one of all the pure blood families, who had allowed this escapade in the first place, wanted them back in the manor by tomorrow at noon.

Y/n had planned a night full of fun in honor of his parting.

Cars were very useful, he thought as he sat inside the car, music playing and ceiling open to the night sky.

She’d also had bought loads of muggle candy which was surprisingly better than what the Honeydukes Express had to offer on its best day.

Although key details of Draco’s life were glossed over he talked to her about everything.

There were a few moments were no words were spoken as their lips were much too preoccupied.

They however managed to talk about everything that mattered; their lives, their hopes, and their dreams until the sun defeated the moon, rising triumphantly once again.

The promise was exchanged in the brand new daylight to meet again next summer.

You always leave me wanting more, I can’t shake my hunger for

It was their first morning back at Hogwarts, Draco couldn’t help but feel a little under the weather as he took a seat across from Crabbe and Goyle who were fighting over who got to grab the first toast. Why was he friends with them?

Draco let out a sigh as he took a sip of his pumpkin juice, recalling the events from the past two weeks. He missed y/n terribly, if he would make through this semester was still to be seen. He was contemplating escaping the manor during Christmas break when he felt something fall on his lap.

Crabbe and Goyle’s idiotic argument had concluded but not before they’d managed to spill everything on the table. His own pumpkin juice now dripping down the edge and onto his robe. Zabini was letting them have a piece of his mind as Draco mumbled, “You both couldn’t be more daft if you tried..” looking down to his lap. Crabbe and Goyle were now the last thing on his mind as he eyed the strawberry. He’d been so absentminded he hadn’t even noticed the bowl of strawberries that had been set in front of him. He picked it up off his lap and bit into it, memories flooding in all at once. He found himself smiling like an idiot the rest of the day, summer couldn’t come fast enough.

Strawberries and cigarettes always taste like you

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unholyhelbig · 3 years

Text

Title: Centerfold [Pt.2]

Ship: Beca Mitchell/ Chloe Beale

(Read Part one here)

Beca Mitchell’s phone was a box of constant communication. She had her emails redirected so that she could feel every single time she needed to address something at the office, even if she was there and the soft pinging culminated in the very screen she stared at. She had a multitude of contacts and would video chat with the team in Italy, and sometimes L.A.

So, what she knew deep down, was that it was impossible for her not to look at her phone all day. Physically she had to check the notifications to keep her world running. Emily intercepted most of them, keeping her deep stare on her own screen before glancing up at her boss every couple of minutes. They were both on edge and Beca didn’t much appreciate the tension that sparked between them.

She held her breathe each time a new ping sounded off until eventually that lull of anxiety was hushed to a dull ache in the pit of her chest. She went through her morning meets and a new presentation to her team about how their coding for a new watch wasn’t up to parr- they had a few days to fix it before it dropped, and the CEO made sure she knew that.

When the notification from Chloe did finally come through, Beca almost didn’t’ notice. She registered the pink of the logo that slowly shifted to a deep purple. But the name? Oh, the name she hadn’t clocked for a few seconds after that. And even then, Chloe Beale? Her Chloe, actually responded.

Beca lilted the computer screen and frantically looked up at Emily, who was already at her door. She didn’t bother to knock. Instead, she situated the office and closed the blinds and very coolly, but not so coolly, pressed her back against the wood and breathed.

“Dude,” Beca said.

“I know,” Emily said “Did you read it?”

She hadn’t read it. She hadn’t even thought to read it because her mind got stuck behind the massive roadblock that was Chloe Beale and her stupid pun username. She opened the application and hesitated over the message icon. She was supposed to be playing it hard to get like she didn’t’ care if she even got a response. But she did care and apparently so did her assistant because she was right behind her, blindly gawking like her halo fell into her eyes and blinded her from right and wrong.

“If I click this she’ll see that I read it and then there’s no going back.”

“You don’t want to go back, do you?”

“You told me to keep her guessing,”

“Truthfully, I didn’t think you’d even get a response.” Emily shrugged sheepishly “Figured you would forget about it in a few days and… open it.”

Beca frowned but hovered the mouse over the message. She wanted to close her eyes but felt like she was watching a car accident, complete with the red and blue flashing lights and the metallic crunch of metal. Either way, she couldn't avert her stare. She didn’t want to.

Chloe: Hey stranger. I must admit that I was never expecting to hear from you again, big shot manager. I’ve kept my tabs on you… New York is my home, so if you’re serious about coffee, so am I.

Her breath caught in her throat. Chloe Fucking Beale had said yes. Her childhood love had agreed to coffee that neither of them could probably stomach. Chloe Fucking Beale who was a playboy model with more than a million Instagram followers, and Chloe Fucking Beale who she was pretty sure she still loved.

There had been other people, men, and women that she had thought she fell for. She folded into soft touches and stronger commands. She was happy for months at a time and on one rare occasion a full year with a man who ran his own tours of the city. But none of those relationships had ever been like the one she had with Chloe.

Beca pulled in a long breath that filled her lungs with stale coffee and copy paper. She tilted her lid and looked to Emily because she was the expert. And Beca was frozen. That same cold excitement filled her and it also rocked her ever-loving shit. She couldn’t move, she couldn’t think.

Emily looked at the darkened screen, then at her boss, then back at the screen before lunging forward and typing back a reply. Perfect. Are you free this Saturday?

It turns out that Chloe was free that Saturday and if she wasn’t, she didn’t’ say a word and quietly cleared her schedule. The day was quickly approaching and Beca really wanted to know why the New York Branch put her in charge of everything when she could barely figure out what to wear to a simple cup of coffee.

This felt more like a simple cup of coffee.

Emily eventually got tired of the barrage of pictures she was getting and took a cab to Beca’s apartment an hour before the actual date. They settled on black jeans and a blue button-down that Emily pulled closer to her chest for extra measure because according to her “You look good in anything and Chloe won’t be able to make eye contact with you.”

Then she was on a subway that smelled like stale snow and hot morning breath. They picked a small shop downtown that not many people knew about. It was a feat in the city to find a place that wasn’t packed like a sardine can and Beca trusted Chloe’s judgment tenfold.

Beca got there first, and her palms were sweating despite the cool atmosphere that swept through the little shop each time the door opened. It was a meta cross between a thrifted bookstore and a café. People sat and ate and read and the scent of what Beca imagined old magic to be, mingled well with coffee grinds and fresh pastries.

She ordered a simple black americano and settled by the front window, the glass fogged from a warm contrast with the cold of the busy street and curved lettering faced the patrons. There was a simple logo and one barista behind the counter. She chose a random book and pretended to read, but only skimmed the same paragraph over and over again.

Her main focus was on the door and the bell that chimed each time it was opened. One of those times, after a businessman and a hipster kid hugging his laptop close to his chest, it was Chloe. Soft and vibrant compared to the rest of the dim academic setting.

Her hair was pulled behind her ears and a pair of golden framed glasses rested on her nose. She had aged like wine and the wind that blew in behind her carried the sweet scent of southern peaches through the front door. She wore a white sweater with a plaid peacoat and high wasted jeans, and Beca knew she was staring.

Everyone was, they couldn’t’ help it. She overtook the room with a warm and sparked presence. If anyone recognized her they didn’t’ say a thing, out of saving their own face or because the girl in the centerfold of the latest playboy was wildly different than the one standing in front of her. This… this was her Chloe.

She didn’t’ know if she could hug Chloe, if touching was okay, but as she stood to greet her, she was pulled into the warmth of the woman. She was wrapped in overwhelming touch and emotion and she buried her nose into Chloe’s hair as they held onto each other, not quite willing to let go of the familiarity before realizing that it was inappropriate not to.

“Wow,” Chloe ran her hands down Beca’s arms, stopping at her elbows “You haven’t aged a day, have you?”

“It’s the lighting in here, I think it’s one step up from basement overhead.”

Chloe laughed and it was a magical sound. The only thing more intoxicating was her smile, which never seemed to leave her lips as she ordered her own drink, something loaded with sugar and caramel, and leaned forward across the table to get a better look at her date.

Beca sipped her coffee and quirked an eyebrow “What?”

“I haven’t seen you in ten years, I think it’s perfectly acceptable for me to study you.”

“There’ll be plenty of time for that,” She tested “What have you been up to all these years?”

Chloe leaned back in her seat and cupped her mug. It was a russet red and steam rose from the pale liquid that soaked inside. There was a sickeningly sweet odor to it and part of Beca regretted ordering nothing but a black coffee. It seemed like a disservice to the atmosphere of the shop.

“Oh, a bunch of stuff here and there. I used to be based out of LA, I did a lot of acting there. Little stuff like soap operas and a couple of commercials. It wasn’t for me, though so I moved here to pursue modeling and it’s been going well. Really well.”

Beca didn’t’ want to mention the playboy magazine or the curve of Chloe’s legs and the way her skin shown under the bright summer sun. She never returned it to Jason because he never asked for it back. It was an unspoken solidarity between the two.

“That’s amazing,” Beca smiled, feeling excitement in her chest “Anything I would recognize?”

Chloe hummed into her drink “Mm, maybe a few things. It depends on how you feel about Playboy. I never thought you were much of a reader.”

Beca looked down dejectedly at the old spined book to her right. It was true, she hadn’t read the Catcher in the Rye and she barely got through the introduction paragraph because of the nerves and the heartbeat that beat so strongly against the inside of her wrist right now.

“I’m not usually. But I do enjoy looking at the pictures.” Beca flicked her stare back towards the woman across from her “Though, that’s not the reason I reached out to you.”

“Truth is, I’ve always wanted to message you, but you looked like you were doing so well. Like you were so happy. I didn’t want to throw you off or seem like I was chasing something that we used to have.” She said, “So I waited.”

It was Beca’s turn to laugh, “I felt the same exact way. We’re both pretty stupid, then huh? Waiting like this for something we knew… for something we knew we wanted.”

Chloe smiled wider and clinked her mug against Beca’s yellow one, not spilling any of the mostly full drink. “To being stupid. And getting to know each other all over again.”

And that’s exactly what they did. They sat and talked until they were the only two in the coffee shop and Beca even dared to kiss Chloe when they got to the subway platform. She tasted like caramel and sunshine if such a thing was even possible.

But it was because she had found Chloe. Centerfold Chloe. High school Chloe, and most importantly, her Chloe.

#Beca Mitchell #chloe beale #bechloe #bechloe fic rec #pitch perfect #pitch perfect fandom #pitch perfect fanfiction #Bechloe Fanfic #Bechloe fanfiction #Request #au

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vampiregirl1797 · 4 years

Text

Moments in Time

Peter Kavinsky x Reader

GIF Not Mine.

Click Here For Masterlist.

Summary: A collection of moments of your relationship with Peter since you started “officially” dating.

Word Count: 9,724– whoops, couldn’t help myself.

Warnings: Smut, oral female receiving, hand jobs female and male receiving, sexual intercourse. If there are anymore I’ve missed let me know and I’ll add them in!

Peter and I had started dating just before Christmas break. Of course we’d been “fake dating” for three months at that point after my five secret love letters had gotten mailed out by my younger sister. He’d wanted to make Genevieve jealous, and I’d wanted to avoid my controlling ex boyfriend who had been badgering me for weeks after I broke up with him. Neither of us had planned on developing feelings, and when I’d realised I was in real danger of falling in love with Peter Kavinsky it had been on the ski trip. It had been on the ride up there when he’d revealed a playlist he’d created, compiled of music he knew I liked, for us to listen to. He’d also bought snacks and drinks he knew I liked. By the time we got there, I’d decided to take him aside and reveal my desire to terminate our fake relationship, because of my blossoming feelings for him. When he’d told me that he didn’t want to because he felt the same for me as I did for him, I’d been shocked and overjoyed. We’d spent the rest of the trip in a state of new relationship bliss, sharing kisses, affectionate touches and even sharing a bed. We hadn’t gone that far, but it had been nice to wake up in his arms, to hear his husky morning voice and see his adorable sleepy face.

We’d been together since that trip and our relationship was unbelievably wonderful. Better than my previous relationship with Frederick Layton, though we’d only been out on two dates he’d been unbearably controlling, and until Peter I’d wondered if that was what all relationships would be like. Thankfully, I’d been wrong, as we had a relationship built on trust, communication, love and passion.

My phone dinged on my dresser and I felt the smile grow on my face as I read the text Peter had just sent to me:

Just leaving my house, beautiful. I’ll be at yours soon, can’t wait to take you out.

It wasn’t our first date, at least I didn’t think it was— I’d say we’d already had a few, though none had been as official as this one— but it always made my heart warm whenever he expressed his happiness to be with me. I slid my phone into the pocket of my deep red skater dress, and slid my maroon high top converse onto my feet. Once I was sure I had my card wallet, along with a little cash in my other pocket I headed downstairs.

‘Hey honey.’ My dad’s voice greeted from the dinner table, where he and Kitty were eating the pizza they’d had delivered.

‘Hey dad.’ I smiled, walking over to ruffle Kitty’s hair and chuckling when she ducked away, ‘hey trouble.’

‘Hey Y/N.’ She replied, playfully slapping my hand away, ‘you look really pretty.’

‘Thanks kiddo.’ I said, making my way to the door as the bell rang.

‘Hey Pete.’ I murmured, reaching out and entwining our fingers together.

‘Hey beautiful.’ He kissed the back of my hand, my face flushing at the soft look in brown eyes, ‘you ready to go?’

‘Yeah.’ We walked out of the door with a quick goodbye to my dad and sister, and my dad making Peter promise to have me home by eleven.

I kissed his cheek as he held the passenger side of his jeep open for me, and I held his hand as he drove us to the restaurant. During the drive he told me about his day so far; he’d been putting in extra work outs in the mornings to prepare for lacrosse season starting up again when we went back to school.

‘I just need to do well, you know? Collages are gonna start sending out scouts soon and I need a scholarship.’ He said, biting his lower lip in a way that indicated how anxious he really was.

I waited until he’d put the car in park and turned off the engine before I spoke, my free hand caressing the side of his face as his hazel eyes stared into mine, ‘you’re going to get seen, Peter. I know it— you’re too good a lacrosse player to not get scouted by multiple collages. All you need to focus on is training and becoming the best player you can be.’

His eyes softened as he leaned forward, his forehead resting against mine, ‘thank you, honey.’ He whispered, his eyes fluttering closed as my hand moved from his cheek to his thick, dark hair, gently moving through the strands.

‘I got you Peter,’ I murmured, ‘I’ll always be in your corner.’

His hands wound around my waist, pulling me as close as he could in his Jeep. We held each other for a while, his face resting in the crook of my neck and my nose buried in his hair, inhaling his fresh, clean scent and something else that was just pure Peter Kavinsky. Eventually though, the sound of his stomach rumbling broke the moment, and we pulled apart with a chuckle and headed into the restaurant.

‘So I have to ask seeing as I’m a complete novice at this,’ I smiled in thanks as the waitress placed our drink orders on the table before leaving, ‘does this count as a first date, even though I’d already say we’ve had loads already?’ We had, but nothing as official as going out to a restaurant like we were now.

He grinned, taking a sip of his drink and leaning forward to hold my hands in his, I turned my hand and entwined our fingers together, enjoying the warmth he was emitting.

‘I’d say that a first date can be anything you want it to be.’ His thumb moved across the back of my hand and he smiled when he saw goose bumps break out across my skin from the smooth touch, ‘for me our first date was at the ski lodge before Christmas break last year.’

I blinked, surprised, ‘we only agreed to officially date on that trip.’

‘Exactly,’ he smiled, his eyes a little unfocused as if he were in a different memory, ‘and that night we shared the hot tub and I got to fall asleep with you in my arms. Best date ever.’

I blushed, but the smile that grew on my lips couldn’t be disputed, ‘it was wonderful. I’d say that was our first date, too. Waking up to you was amazing as well, I miss that.’ We hadn’t been able to share a bed since the ski trip, my father careful to assure we’d never have a reason for a sleepover, though we hadn’t broached the ‘sex’ territory yet, Peter had already done it but I hadn’t, and he promised to wait until I was ready.

‘Me too honey.’ He lifted my hands and kissed them, before lowering them to rest on the table again, ‘but I have an idea about how we can do that again, depending on if Chris is willing to cover for you.’

‘Hmm I’m interested, tell me more,’ I leaned forward, excited at the prospect of spending time with him, completely alone.

‘If you’re up for the idea, I know a great place we can go camping for the weekend. I used to go with my dad and brother before he left.’ His smile turned a little sad and I squeezed his hands in comfort, wishing there was something I could do to ease his pain, ‘I can get someone on the lacrosse team to cover for me, and if Chris will cover for you, we’ll be all set.’

‘That sounds perfect.’ I smiled, knowing my eyes were sparkling with happiness at the idea, ‘I’ll talk to her about it, she’ll probably ask for a few favours in return but it’ll be worth it.’

‘Awesome. Let me know, this weekend is one of the last good ones before the weather gets cold and lacrosse training really kicks in next week.’ He murmured, his thumb subconsciously moving against the back of my hands as he spoke. I think he did it without even thinking because he knew it comforted me; I’d told him a few weeks after we’d started “officially” dating, that his touch comforted me in a way that I couldn’t explain, and since he’d made a point to always be touching me in someway.

Our food came not long after and our conversation settled a little as we ate; I had carbonara and Peter had a pepperoni pizza, which he offered me a slice of in exchange for a taste of my food. After the meal Peter surrendered his keys to me, insisting that he was too full to drive, and I accepted them with a chuckle as I drove us back towards home. When I passed Lake Gaston and noted the empty car park I impulsively decided to drive in, entranced with the way the moonlight reflected off the water. That and the blissful silence, it was easy to pretend we weren’t in Virginia.

‘It’s beautiful here.’ I murmured, not really thinking about the words as they left my mouth.

‘It is.’ He agreed, but he was looking at me, not the scenery. He reached over, entwining our hands together and earning my gaze as I turned, taken away with how gorgeous he looked in the moonlight.

I gasped when his hands fell to my waist and he lifted me up onto his lap before I had time to ask what he was doing. My forehead fell against his and our lips melded together like two magnets that were powerless to resist the pull between them. His lips were soft, and his hands were warm as they trailed down from my shoulders to my waist, were they paused to pull me even closer to him. The friction caused me to gasp and his tongue slid into my open mouth without hesitation, moving against mine with a seductive slowness that made my knees feel weak. I didn’t know when my hands moved to his hair, I was too lost in what he was doing to me to pay attention to my own movements, but I became aware of it when a noise of pleasure emitted from between us. I tugged the strands a little and felt myself shuffle closer to him at the groan that escaped his mouth, attracted to his pleasure. My hips were completely aligned with his at that point; I could feel how much he wanted me, how ready he would have been if I’d reached down and released him from his jeans and asked him to take me. But that wasn’t how I wanted my first time to happen so my hands stayed where they were.

His didn’t.

They slid down my legs until he reached the hem of my dress and skated up to the tops of my thighs. I felt a nervous twinge in my stomach but I ignored it; we’d already spoken about boundaries and I trusted him not to violate my trust. His thumb gently skated over my centre, barely pushing the fabric of my underwear into where I was starting to throb with need. I pulled my lips away from his, my head moving to rest against his shoulder, my breath coming quickly as the pleasure he was giving me grew. His other hand moved to my back, softly stroking up and down the centre of my back in a comforting gesture. I felt myself melt into him and when he moved my underwear to the side and it was suddenly his fingers completely against my clit with nothing in between, my back arched from the shock and the incredible jolt that echoed throughout my body.

He moved back and forth, down to my entrance and back up again, repeating the motion and stopping on the bundle of nerves in between, before doing it all again. It wasn’t long before I was shaking, on the edge of my first ever orgasm inflicted by someone other than myself and my god, all the times I’d masturbated it had never been this good. The build up had never been this intense, and when I finally reached my release my vision flashed white and I stopped breathing, fully surrendering my body to the incredible pleasure that echoed throughout my body.

I didn’t know how long it took me to come back around, but when I did I was still on Peter’s lap. He was stroking my hair, whispering soft praises into my ear, and occasionally pausing to kiss my forehead.

‘Peter that was... amazing.’ I whispered, nuzzling into his neck and enjoying his scent as it invaded my nostrils.

‘I’m glad you enjoyed it honey.’ He kissed my hair this time, and I could hear the soft smile in his voice.

‘Can I return the favour?’ I asked, somewhat timidly.

‘You don’t have to do that, Y/N. I can take care of myself when I get home, and trust me, I’ll need to. Watching you fall apart was the most arousing thing I’ve ever seen.’ His voice dropped to a husky tone that would have me rubbing my thighs together if I weren’t already straddling him.

‘I want to,’ I insisted, shuffling down and kneeling to the floor of the car so I could comfortably settle in between his legs, ‘but I’ve never done this before so tell me if I’m doing something you don’t like.’

‘Okay.’ He murmured, his voice barely loud enough for me to hear as my hands fell to the button on his jeans.

I undid it and unzipped the zipper, shooting him a grateful smile when he lifted his hips so I could pull his jeans and underwear down together. I tried to control my surprise at his size as he sprang up against his stomach without anything holding him in place. He was huge, at least to me he was— was eight inches big? I made a mental note to look it up later as my hand tentatively wrapped around the base of his shaft, encouraged by the noise that fell from his mouth I lifted it higher, all the way to the tip and then back down again. His hips jolted, involuntarily, as he tired to follow the movement of my hand, and I felt myself speed up in response, entranced with him. His hands were tangled in his hair, pulling at the strands at increasing force as I sped up around him, he was biting his lip, his eyes were focused on me and darker than I’d ever seen them, pleasure and arousal swimming in the almost chocolate brown depths. I couldn’t tear my eyes away from him, and I held his stare until he fell apart in my hand, his release coating my skin as I reached over for the tissues in my bag, I cleaned myself, as well as him though he didn’t seem to notice; his head was resting against his seat with a blissed out look on his face. Once I was done I tucked him back into his boxers and jeans before curling up on his lap, my hands moving gently though his hair as I patiently waited for him to recover.

‘That was amazing, honey.’ He eventually said, his voice sounding sore as he placed a chaste but lingering kiss on my lips.

‘I’m glad you enjoyed it.’ I replied, my cheeks flushing almost immediately— was that a normal thing to say in these situations?

He chuckled and kissed my forehead but otherwise said nothing. We were both happy to bask in the comfortable silence and our afterglow until we realised the time and knew we needed to get me back home before my dad sent out a search party. He dropped me off five minutes before curfew and left me with an ‘I love you’ and a kiss that left us both breathless.

As I was laying in bed an hour later, I wondered how different school was going to be now Peter and I were officially together. But I knew, no changes mattered as long as Peter Kavinsky was there to hold my hand.

Peter had come in early to do some training with a few other guys on the lacrosse team, so I drove myself and Kitty to school the next day. Which was fine, I mean I didn’t like driving but I didn’t mind doing it when necessary. I actually got caught in traffic and ended up making it to school two minutes before the final bell rang, which left enough time for me to get to class, but meant that I didn’t get the chance to talk to anyone before I was thrown in to English class. I was pleased to see that Chris and I were together for Trigonometry second period, and third I had Lucas. First and fourth I was alone friendship wise and I was kinda grateful for it because English and Chemistry were my weakest subjects so I needed to concentrate.

By the time lunch rolled around I was starving and excited to see Peter— we’d been texting throughout the day but it wasn’t the same. I was walking as fast as possible towards the exit of the Chem room, hoping to get to the cafeteria asap, that I almost walked right past him. If he hadn’t grabbed the belt-loop on the shorts I was wearing, I would have missed him completely.

‘Peter.’ I breathed, my voice soft with surprise and delight.

‘Hey beautiful.’ He grinned, leaning down to rest his forehead against mine, his hands resting on my waist.

‘I don’t mean to sound all clingy or anything, but I missed you.’ I told him, my face flushing at the gently, adoring look that adorned his features following my admission, ‘it feels like I haven’t seen you in forever.’

‘I wouldn’t say that’s clingy.’ He assured me, kissing my forehead and winding his arm around my waist as we started to walk to the cafeteria, ‘but if it is, I’m right there with you honey.’

We shared a smile, full of love, adoration and pure honey-moon phase happiness that I hoped didn’t dissipate completely. We ended up completely bypassing the cafeteria in favour of sitting on what I’d internally deemed as “our picnic table” near the tracks— the same place we’d written down our fake dating rules all those months ago. We both sat on the same side of the bench, his arm alternating between resting on my shoulders, on my thigh, holding my hand when it was free and playing with my hair.

‘I talked to Chris in second period, she said she’d cover for me this weekend.’ I told him, excitement filling my expression.

‘That’s great!’ He shared my enthusiasm, his wide, contagious grin lighting his face.

‘I know, we just need to work out the finer details but otherwise we’re good to go.’ My head rested on his shoulder, my packed lunch finished at that point.

‘If you pack a bag we can store it in my Jeep and we can leave straight from school on Friday.’ He suggested, his hand stroking my hair, his other entwined with my fingers.

‘Sounds perfect.’ And it did. Peter and I had never been truly alone to the point of no possible interruptions. We were alone in that moment, but it was only a matter of time before the bell rang and we were flooded with students headed to their next class. Our bubble never remained un-penetrated for long.

‘I want us to have sex on the trip.’ I said and immediately felt my teeth dig into my lower lip as if to reprimand me for my outburst.

You see, I didn’t have a filter around Peter, which I valued most of the time, it allowed for effective communication and it reflected how comfortable I was around him, to voice my thoughts without worrying about judgement. So despite the initial wave of embarrassment that flooded me following my declaration, I refused to let myself linger on it, knowing with Peter I always had a safe space to talk about anything, including my desire to lose my virginity.

I lifted my head from his shoulder to look at his expression, realising he hadn’t spoken for at least a minute. The surprise and shock on his face was to be expected, but I was a little worried that he seemed to be... frozen.

‘Peter?’ I murmured, my index finger gently tapping his forehead.

He blinked, his hazel eyes moving to mine and he shook his head as if to clear it, most likely realising my concern was due to his lack of an answer.

‘Are you okay?’ I asked, my voice timid. Did he not want to take this step? Had he frozen because he was thinking of a way to let me down easily? ‘Pete, if you don’t think we’re ready for this then tell me, both of our feelings are important here.’

His eyes softened and he placed a kiss on my forehead, ‘I know that, honey. I was just surprised, I guess I wasn’t expecting it. That’s all. The way I reacted wasn’t because I don’t want to be with you that way, because I do. I just want you to be sure you’re not rushing into this because of me.’ His hazel eyes searched mine, and I kept eye contact when I spoke, wanting him to see my complete sincerity.

‘I’ve been thinking about this for weeks, Pete. I love you, you love me, and I trust you to take care of me.’ My hands went to either side of his face, ‘I’m sure.’

His hand gripped my right, lifting it and turning it over so he could kiss my palm.

‘Okay, in that case I’ll make sure we have protection for the weekend.’ He assured me, his thumb tracing over my cheekbone as I flushed, ‘and in the meantime, if you have any second thoughts and you change your mind then let me know. There’s no pressure, I’m happy to spend the weekend with you, with our without sex, okay?’

I was so soft in that moment you could have spread me on bread, ‘okay.’

I knew I wouldn’t change my mind, and the very fact he made sure to assure me that it would be okay that I did, only solidified my choice even further. I loved him, trusted him and he was without a doubt the one I wanted to take this step with.

A few days later after Peter had dropped me off at home, my dad handed me a letter, and as soon as I saw the return name and address, my stomach dropped.

The letters had gotten out months ago, and when I’d not heard anything from John Ambrose, I assumed his had got lost in the mail, or he’d read it been confused and creeped out and thrown it away. But the letter I was holding proved both of those theories wrong.

I took a breath and opened it, hoping to god it was a polite brush off and he wasn’t writing to tell me that I was a creepy weirdo.

Dear Y/N,

I couldn't believe when I opened that letter and it was from you. Wow. It's been, what, five years since we've seen each other? Not that I'm mad or anything. I was so happy to get it. I can't believe how mature you were at 11. God, when I was 11, my mom was still putting out snacks for me after school, but here you were with all these complex thoughts and emotions.

It's crazy.

Reading it reminded me of that time that we both got locked out after school. Remember that? We went to the Robertson's treehouse and read Harry Potter until it got dark. If I'd written you a love letter back then, I'm pretty sure it would've just said something like, um, "I liked reading with you. You're really pretty." But your letter was so much more than that. I just have one question: Why send it now?

Whatever the reason, I'm really glad I got to read it.

Yours, John Ambrose.

Okay, just a polite brush off like I was hoping, nothing to worry about. I headed up to my room, tossed my back pack onto my bed and sat at my desk. He deserved an explanation and maybe then this whole thing could just go away for good. I pulled out some stationary and started writing.

Dear John Ambrose,

I have to say your response surprised me, the letters got out almost six months ago, I’d assumed yours got lost in the mail or that you threw it away. Either way, you’re right and you do deserve an explanation. I went through a stage of writing letters whenever I got a crush so intense I didn’t know what to do about it. In total there were five, one to you, a guy from camp, Lucas from school, Josh from next door and Peter Kavinsky. My sister, Kitty, thought it would be a good idea to send them out and possibly get me out of my shell, which is why you received it now when I wrote it years ago. It actually worked, and Peter and I started dating, we’re still together now and honestly I’m kinda grateful to my sister for sending out the letters, because it never would have happened without it.

It was nice to hear from you, John Ambrose, I wish you all the best for the future.

Y/N.

There. All done, all finished. I placed it into an envelope, wrote the name and address on the front, and added the stamp. I didn’t seal it though. I’d never had a boyfriend, but I was pretty sure if I found out that a guy Peter used to like had written him a letter, I’d want to know about it.

I pulled my phone out of the back pocket of my high-waisted jeans and texted him— I knew he was probably out running like he did every day after school, so I didn’t want to disrupt him with a phone call.

Hey honey, can you come over tonight? There’s something I wanna talk to you about. It’s nothing bad, I promise.

Once that was sent, I headed to the shower and after that kept myself busy with homework. I was so deep in concentration that I jumped when someone knocked on the front door— the headache that my trig homework had given me didn’t help. I looked up from where I was sitting at the dining room table and headed over to answer it— Kitty was at a friends house and my dad was still at work, one of his patients had gone into labour an hour ago.

A bright smile broke across my face when I saw who it was, and I abandoned a verbal greeting in favour of wrapping my arms around his neck and burying my head in his chest. He smelled of peppermint from his body wash, and a hint of vanilla from his shampoo. I could feel that his hair was still wet, so he must have showered after his run and come over straight away.

‘Hey honey,’ he murmured, kissing my hair, ‘everything okay?’

‘Fine, just something I thought you should know about.’ I told him, reluctant to pull away from his hold— I was feeling extra clingy tonight for whatever reason, and he must have realised it too, because he scooped me up. My legs wound around his waist and my face moved to the crook of his neck, inhaling deeply as a contented feeling wrapped around me like a warm blanket on a rainy day.

‘Where to?’ He asked, his voice soft. I vaguely registered the sound of the front door closing as he kicked it shut.

‘My room.’ I replied, trying to keep myself from falling asleep. I loved how safe I felt in his arms.

He carried me up with no problem and paused at my desk so I could grab both letters, and then moved to the centre of my bed, positioning me so I was comfortable curled up on his chest.

‘Now what did you need me to come over for, honey? Not that I’m complaining if you just called me over for some cuddles.’ He chuckled, kissing my forehead.

‘You remember the letters I wrote?’ I mumbled against the fabric of his shirt.

‘Yeah, one to me, some guy from UN, someone from camp, Josh and Lucas.’ His hand trailed up and down my back comfortingly.

‘Well, the guy from UN was John Ambrose McClaren.’ I said, too calm to be worried about his reaction.

‘No shit. McClaren? That was my boy.’ He grinned.

‘Well, he wrote me back.’ I handed him one of the letters in my hand and patiently waited as he read it.

‘He sounds pretty cool about it.’ He said once he was finished, placing it to the side and linking his fingers with my free hand, ‘are you gonna write him back?’

‘I’ve already written the letter, I figured he deserved an explanation as to why he received a love letter I wrote five years ago out of the blue.’ I held up the response in my free hand, ‘that’s why I called you over, I figured if this was the other way around then I’d wanna know about it, right?’

His eyes softened, his free hand gently moving through my hair, ‘right. So do you want me to read your response?’

I nodded, handing him the letter. I knew if I told him no that he would respect that, but I had no problems with him reading it. I had no feelings for John Ambrose anymore, they’d flickered out years ago, and I didn’t want Peter wondering if me keeping the letter from him was because those feelings still lingered. He finished it pretty quickly, kissed my forehead and asked me if I wanted to watch a movie. I didn’t particularly; I was so close to sleep that I didn’t think I’d last five minutes, but if it meant he’d stay and hold me for a few more hours I was all for it. I hummed in agreement and he turned on my TV and selected something, I couldn’t tell you what it was if my life depended on it. I was asleep within minutes.

‘Please chose your volunteer post wisely. You will be representing Adler at your chosen post.’ Principal Stevens reminded everyone in the cafeteria, that had temporarily turned into a volunteer centre with different booths scattered around.

I was looking around for the Bellevue booth when I was startled by warm hands wrapping around my waist.

‘Hey honey.’ He murmured into my neck, his warm breath made me shiver against him, I could feel his smirk before he continued, ‘you found the Bellevue booth yet?’

‘Nah, I just got here.’ I turned, my arms wrapping around his neck, his forehead resting against mine, ‘you and the boys signed up for Oakwood Market?’

‘Um—.’ He was cut off from Trevor appearing behind him and playfully slapping his shoulders.

‘Yo, K! What’s up big boy?’ He exclaimed. Peter shook his head with a chuckle and pulled me closer to him as he turned to give his friend a nod.

‘What’s up, Y/N?’ Trevor smiled.

‘Hey, Trevor.’ I returned his smile, my gaze returning to Peter quickly.

‘Yo, bro, so check it out. We already snagged six spots at Oakwood Market. Everybody's in, done deal.’ Trevor grinned, ruffling Peter’s hair in his excitement.

‘That’s great man.’ Pete smiled, removing a hand from my waist to playfully shove him, ‘sign me up will you? I’m gonna find the Bellevue booth with Y/N.’

He didn’t give him a chance to respond, his hand sliding around my waist and walking us in the direction of the booth I needed.

‘You don’t have to come with me you know,’ I told him a soft, amused smile on my lips, ‘just because we’re dating it doesn’t mean your friends aren’t a priority too.’

‘I know that.’ He held me closer and his next words were so quiet that I had to strain my hearing to catch them, ‘I’m feeling a little clingy today, honey.’

I was a little surprised; usually it was the other way around, but I didn’t comment, I just held him tighter against my side and reached over for his free hand and kissed his palm. If this is what he needed, I was more than happy to help ease him in anyway I could. He kissed the top of my head and when we reached the booth he moved behind me, his hands on my waist and his chin resting on my shoulder so we were cheek to cheek.

I wrote my name on the sheet, noting that I was the only one and turned to kiss Peter’s cheek when I was done. Before we could leave, Gen cornered us.

‘Of course you would do Bellevue.’ She snorted, ‘you’re so predictable, Y/N.’

‘I know right?’ I smiled sweetly, unable to help rolling my eyes. Honestly, how she hadn’t moved on by now and gotten tired of giving us a hard time I didn’t know.

‘I saw your story this weekend, Peter.’ She rolled her eyes and shot me a smug look, ‘Cordona’s? Classic Kavinsky. A little tip, Y/N, if you wanna fit into your jeans come summer, you should start ordering a salad.’

‘Just stop it Gen.’ Peter said, his voice sounded tired and lacking of patience and she must have noticed it too because she started, her expression becoming vulnerable for a split second before the mean facade was back in place, ‘that’s my favourite restaurant, and Y/N loves Italian, of course I took her there. Just because we dated it doesn’t mean that all of those places are off limits for us now. Grow up and stop being so childish.’

She rolled her eyes, but I could tell she was well and truly berated as she left without so much as a ‘whatever’ thrown over her shoulder.

I turned around in his arms, noting the way his shoulders were slumped, and his hazel eyes weren’t as bright as they usually were.

‘Well, we’re officially signed up for our volunteer programmes, you wanna get lunch off campus? My treat for all the running coach’ll make you do later.’ My hands gently moved through his thick brown locks as I talked.

‘I’d love that. I’m craving pizza.’ He squeezed my hand as we headed for his car, I took the keys and drove us to Cordona’s and got us a large half pepperoni and half cheese for us to share.

We stopped at the lake we’d paused at almost a week ago to eat, there were more cars, but no people; they were probably hiking around the water. I shifted onto Pete’s lap, the pizza laying open on the drivers seat, making it easy for us to reach over when we wanted a slice. We didn’t talk much as we ate, occasionally he’d offer me a bite of his pizza and I’d do the same to him, both of us trading gentle smiles and chaste kisses before we continued eating. It was peaceful being encased in our bubble, and I hoped that the atmosphere was as calming for him as it was for me. By the time the pizza was gone, we still had over half an hour before we had to be back to school, and it was only a ten minute drive. I tossed the left over crust into the pizza box and shook my head when Pete offered me some of the last slice.

My hand moved through his hair, noting the way his eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into my touch as he swallowed the last of his pizza.

‘You feeling better, honey?’ It was the first words I’d spoken in a while, and I was pleased that the peaceful bubble around us didn’t pop at the disruption.

‘Loads, thank you for this Y/N.’ He kissed my forehead.

‘You don’t have to thank me, Pete. I told you, I’m here for you, always.’ I kissed his nose, chuckling at the way his nose wrinkled and a grin lit up his face.

My amusement faded abruptly when hands gently rested on either side of my face and bought my lips to his. He tasted of cheese, pepperoni and a hint of mint from the gum he’d been chewing before. His lips were soft and when his tongue slipped into my mouth again, I felt myself melt into him with a shudder. His hands glided down to my waist, pulling me closer to him and I briefly wondered when I’d turned to straddle him, but honestly in that moment I didn’t care. My fingers tugged at his hair and he groaned against my lips to kiss along the column of my throat, to behind my ear, his lips zeroing in on a sensitive spot that I didn’t know existed. I moaned his name, my hips involuntarily moving against his, allowing me to feel that he wanted me just as much as I did him. His hand slid underneath my jumper, and when he felt that I wasn’t wearing a bra underneath he groaned as his hand cupped my breast, his thumb moving back and forth across my nipple and creating little zings of electricity that seemed connected to my core somehow.

I moaned his name again and he bought his lips to mine, his tongue moving in that slowly seductive way again, and I swear I felt myself flush with so much warmth and arousal I wouldn’t have been surprised if I caught on fire. I was so lost in the heat that I didn’t notice his other hand sliding underneath my skirt until his fingers pressed against my core, causing my hips to jolt into his hand. I pulled away from the kiss, needing to breathe and unable to concentrate on anything but the pleasure that was travelling through my body. My head fell to his shoulder and his fingers moved quicker against my clit, seeming to find that spot that made me see stars without even trying. My release came over me so suddenly that I bit down on Peter’s shoulder without thinking, concerned that my volume would be too loud without me tampering down my moans somehow.

By the time I came back around, Peter was stroking my hair, while his other hand gripped my waist gently.

‘I can’t feel my legs.’ I spoke into his neck, smiling at the sound of his chuckle.

‘It’s okay honey, I can drive us back.’ He kissed my hair.

‘What about you?’ I frowned, not liking the idea of leaving him in need of release; and I knew he was, I could feel it against my hip.

‘Don’t worry about that, you can make it up to me when you have the energy.’ He said, his voice rife with amusement and a little pride.

‘Okay,’ I murmured, appeased.

We stayed there for a few more minutes, until we were in danger of being late if we waited any longer. He placed me in the passenger seat where I curled into a ball, having not got my energy back yet, and he closed the pizza box and placed it into the foot space I wasn’t currently using. My hand was entwined with his left as he drove us back, and I was on the precipice of consciousness and unconsciousness when he leaned over to kiss my forehead to tell me we had arrived. My eyes fluttered open and I practically jumped into Peter’s arms when he came around to open my door for me. He chuckled, holding me close for a moment before his arm slid around my waist so we could walk into the school. I idly wondered if I’d get away with taking a nap in history as we parted ways at the doors with a kiss.

The next day passed in a blur and before I knew it, we were heading on our camping trip. I’d tossed my school bag onto the back seat, kicked off my ballet flats and pulled my hair from my hair tie to make myself more comfortable for the drive. Peter and I were both positively beaming with excitement, happily singing along to the road trip playlist he’d made for us. It made my heart warm when he’d bashfully announced that he’d done that, he’d gone out of his way to put together a bunch of songs he knew I liked. It was the little things like that, that made me wonder what I’d done right to deserve someone as wonderful as Peter.

When we arrived, Peter and I wasted no time in putting up the tent. Well, Pete told me what to do and followed his instructions as best as I could— I’d never been camping before so putting a tent together was completely fresh territory for me. But he told me I’d done a good job and I kissed him for saying that, even though we both knew it wasn’t true.

‘I love it out here.’ I told him much later, when the sun had set and we could actually see the stars shining above us now we were out of the city.

‘Me too, I forgot just how much.’ He admitted, his arm around my shoulders as I melted into his side.

‘How come you haven’t been back in so long?’

‘Me and my brother used to come out here with my dad, and for the longest time it was another reminder of the fact he was gone.’ He said, his voice taking on the melancholy that usually followed talking about his father.

‘I get that, it was the same for me after my mom died.’ I offered him a sad smile when he met my eye, ‘but eventually I realised, the memories didn’t have to make me sad, they could be a reminder of the happy times we all shared as a family.’

‘You’re so wise for a sixteen year old, Y/N.’ He smiled softly, his hand caressing the side of my face, his smile grew when I leaned into his touch, ‘thank you for sharing that with me, it helps, more than you know.’

‘I love you, Pete.’

His eyes softened completely, ‘I love you too, Y/N.’

The next few days were complete and utter bliss. Spending time with one of my favourite people, just us, no interruptions was incredible. We hiked, swam, danced in the random rainfall, cuddled at night to keep warm, watched the sunrise and set, and lay for hours under the stars talking about anything and everything. Not once did he bring up my earlier expressed desire to lose my virginity during this trip, and I knew it was because he was giving me the room I needed to change my mind, no questions asked. The truth was, I hadn’t changed my mind, but it took me a few days to work up my nerve to broach the subject again. I knew we’d already been intimate to an extent, but it took me some time to assure myself that Peter loved me, and that he wouldn't be disgusted with my naked appearance. It was Sunday night, we’d be getting up early to drive straight to school in the morning, and I finally gathered my nerve.

‘Pete?’ I murmured to him; we’d eaten some dinner an hour ago and we were currently laying in each others arms underneath the stars.

‘Hmm?’

‘Did you bring any protection?’ I felt him stiffen underneath me before he relaxed.

‘I did.’ He confirmed, ‘but if you’ve changed your mind then that’s completely okay.’

‘I know, but I didn’t,’ I leaned up, resting on my elbow to look him in the eye, ‘I just needed a little time to gather my nerve.’

‘You don’t need to be nervous, honey, if you want to do this I’ll take care of you.’ His hazel eyes shone of nothing but sincerity.

‘I want to do this Peter, please.’ I murmured, my fingers gently trailing over the side of his face.

That was how we found ourselves in the zipped up tent, both of us completely naked and Peter kissing his way down my stomach. My hand tangled in his hair as his mouth latched onto my clit, my hips would have buckled into his face if he didn’t have a hand on my waist, securely holding me down. His other hand had moved lower, his finger moving inside of me and curling to find the spot that had taken me months to find without effort. I moaned, completely overwhelmed with the pleasure he was giving me in that moment. His mouth was sucking on the perfect spot, his tongue moving over that bundle of nerves, while he added another finger inside of me, rubbing—fuck—yes right there— I was going to explode, I was sure of it. As the pure unadulterated continued to build I didn’t recognise my own voice as I alternated between moaning, screaming his name and whimpering. Eventually, and yet all too soon, the knot in my stomach came undone as my release overcame me, my vision whitened and when I came around, I was surprised to see that my body was still in one piece.

Pete was hovering over me, his eyes soft and aroused as he observed me. I felt myself flush and his thumb gently followed the redness as it covered my cheeks.

‘You’re so beautiful, Y/N.’ He whispered, his lips capturing mine in a gentle kiss that made my heart melt inside my chest.

He leaned back after a moment, pulling a condom from his wallet and sliding it down his erection. When he noticed me biting my lip, concerned how he was going to fit inside of me, he kissed my forehead reassuringly and lined himself up with my entrance. He pushed in with one slow, smooth movement, once he was fully encased inside me, he stopped, his face turned into the side of my neck. He kissed me there, and I was grateful for the distraction from the pain, it made waiting for it to pass much easier as his lips found that spot behind my ear again.

‘You’re doing amazingly, honey.’ He murmured against my skin, his warm breath making me shiver in the best way.

When the pain subsided I told Peter to move, and he did, starting with soft, shallow thrusts that became deeper and harder as we progressed. When he lifted my right thigh and wound it around his waist, and managed to find a spot that had me seeing stars with every thrust, I was pretty sure I moaned ridiculously loud but I was far too lost in the moment to know for sure. I was lost in him again, his scent, his breath coming fast and heavy against my neck, his lips and the kisses he was placing where he could reach, his hand where he was gripping my leg while the other rested on the ground behind my head to give him balance, his shaft and the way it moved in and out of me as if he was made to fit inside me. I was overwhelmed by him, just as I was every time we became intimate and I found myself hoping, in the back of my aroused mind that was overrun with pleasure, that it would never be any other way.

When I reached my release, Peter wasn’t very far behind me, shouting my name into my neck. Once we were both finished, his arms wrapped around my waist and he flipped us over so I was laying on top of him. His fingers trailed over my bare back and it was honestly so soothing, I found myself falling asleep right there, peacefully in his arms.

‘This is gonna be wild.’ Peter grinned, his hand entwined with mine, while me other was holding the cupcakes I’d made on my lap, along with the pizzas Pete had picked up on his way over.

‘You think?’ I said, amused, ‘we’re digging up a time capsule and eating pizza with cupcakes, i’m not sure that’s the common definition of “wild.”’

He laughed, ‘I know that, Covey. I mean having the old gang meeting up again, seeing my boy, it’s gonna be crazy.’

It was true, the old gang was me, Peter, John Ambrose, Trevor, Chris and Genevieve. We were all meeting up to dig up the time capsule we’d buried underneath the Robertson’s treehouse because the new owners were going to cut it down. If I was honest I was a little nervous about it; Gen and I didn’t get along, so I could only imagine the snide comments we were going to get, and things between John Ambrose and I since we’d been volunteering together at Bellevue had been awkward. He’d gotten the letter I’d sent back to him, and he was constantly asking how things were between Peter and I. Whenever I told him things were great, he’d get a disappointed look on his face before he forced a smile that fooled no one. I’d told Peter about it, but he assured me that if he had any doubts about our relationship then that was his problem, not ours. And he was right.

‘It’s going to be weird having us all together again.’ I agreed, kissing the back of his hand and returning his smile, though mine wasn’t as big, it was still genuine.

John Ambrose was stood at the foot of the tree house, his hands tucked in his jeans as we approached. Peter had insisted on carrying the pizza and the cupcakes so I had my arm wrapped in his back pocket as we walked, slightly amused at the irony of the move.

‘Well, well, well if it isn’t Johnny McClaren!’ Peter grinned.

‘Peter Kavinsky.’ He returned, a little less enthusiastically.

‘Anyone else here yet?’ I asked, hoping to diffuse the sudden tension, and I was grateful to hear Trevor’s booming voice approaching us.

‘Yo! You guys order some za’?’ He clapped his hands twice, ‘yo, I’m so hungry.’ And when he saw John he grinned walking over to him, clasping his hand and slapping him on the back, ‘John! I can’t believe you came it’s been so long!’

‘I know, I’m glad we could all meet up.’ He smiled, looking towards the boxes in Peter’s hands and asking, ‘What kind did you get?’

‘One pepperoni and one cheese.’ Peter answered, turning to smile at me, ‘and Y/N made us some salted caramel cupcakes for afterwards.’

‘Pizza and cupcakes? We should do this every week.’ Trevor cheered, making us all laugh in amusement.

‘So are we’re just waiting on Peter and Gen.’ I mused, hoping my anxiety dissipated soon.

‘I’m here, it was so generous of you to offer me an invitation, Y/N.’ Gen said, her voice snarky.

‘I know.’ I sighed, honestly not in the mood for her snippiness.

Thankfully before she could retort, Chris joined us, shovel in hand and a smile on her face. I tuned the conversation out and offered to go and set up the food while she and the others located the time capsule. Peter came with me, handing me the boxes up through the hatch before joining me inside.

We placed mats in a circle for everyone to sit on, so it would be more comfortable. I ended up sitting in between Peter’s legs, his back leaning on the wall behind him while we waited for everyone else.

‘Is there a lot of tension between people or is it just me?’ I asked, needing to know if I was imagining it.

‘There was some between me and McClaren, and some between us and Gen.’ he confirmed, his hands entwining with mine.

‘I hate it, it makes me nervous.’ I admitted, turning to meet his eyes.

‘I know, but sometimes it can’t be helped. I mean when another guy is clearly into my girlfriend it paves the way for tension.’ He shrugged.

‘It doesn’t have to, Pete. I love you, any feelings I may have had for him fizzled out years ago.’ I assured him.

‘I know,’ he kissed my forehead, ‘jealousy is an irrational feeling but that doesn’t make banishing it any easier.’

I knew what he meant, I still felt jealous of Gen occasionally, but I reminded myself that Peter wanted me, not her and we were happy together. I turned around again, settling back between his legs, my back against his chest and his arms around my waist. That was how the others found us when they ventured up, and other than a disappointed look from John Ambrose and a disgusted one from Gen, no one else batted an eye. We all ate, the others sharing random conversation, but I was content to sit back and observe rather than participate. Pete and John Ambrose didn’t speak directly and when I didn’t respond to the snide comments she was making, Gen settled into conversation with the others. While he was eating, Pete’s hand remained on my waist, his thumb moving back and forth over my hipbone in a comforting gesture that had me melting even further into him.

Once the food was finished, Chris cracked open the time capsule, pulling out a familiar bracelet that she threw in my direction when I said it was mine.

‘It’s a friendship bracelet that Gen made for me, back when we were friends.’ I admitted, tucking it into the pocket of my jeans with a smile— she may have hated me now, but the bracelet had some good memories of our friendship when we were kids.

Trevor pulled out the next object, ‘baseball!’

‘I’m guessing you put that in?’ John Ambrose laughed.

Peter held up a hand, catching it effortlessly, ‘Yeah, that was me. This is when I hit a home run at Claremont Park.’

‘Wait I remember that! You came running off the field and kissed me in front of your mom, do you remember that?’ Gen asked with a smug smile on her face.

Chris and I shared a look, rolling our eyes simultaneously as Peter said, ‘yeah I remember, it was years ago.’

He pocketed the baseball and entwined his hand with mine. I squeezed his hand once to let him know that I wasn’t mad, if anything at this point I felt bad for Gen— to constantly bring up past moments in a relationship with her ex wasn’t healthy and I didn’t know why she was doing it. Surely it couldn’t have been making her feel good? I’d be heartbroken if Pete and I broke up and bringing up our special moments would only make the pain that much more intense.

‘Alright.’ John reached in and pulled out a piece of paper.

‘Ah, that’s mine!’ Trevor reached over taking it and looking it over with a nostalgic eye, ‘Ah, yes, the Linkin Park concert at the Crystal Ballroom.’

‘Linkin Park?’ Chris scoffed, ‘nerd.’

‘What?’ Trevor sounded outraged, ‘Linkin slaps!’

‘Okay...’ Peter held the time capsule so I could reach in and pull out the next thing, which was a cap.

I held it up and Pete handed it to John Ambrose, clearly knowing it was his, ‘Hey, McClaren, remember this? This is when you hopped on the bandwagon, and wore this hat every single day.’

‘Oh my god,’ John shook his head, clearly remembering giving in to the trend.

‘Wait, Y/N didn't you get a Seahawks T-shirt 'cause you were trying to impress John?’ She smiled, but there was nothing sweet about it.

‘If I did, I don’t remember.’ I answered honestly.

‘If you did, that’s really cute.’ John Ambrose smiled, and it wasn’t creepily but I couldn’t help but feel uncomfortable with the comment anyway.

Peter must have felt it because he lifted the hand he was still holding to his lips and kissed the back of it before our entwined hands settled back on my hip. He reached into the capsule beside us and pulled out an envelope.

‘This says “to the future Chris”’ he handed it to her and we all watched, amused as she pulled out $20 and tucked it into her bra.

‘You okay?’ Pete murmured into my ear, his head resting on my shoulder.

‘I am,’ I smiled, turning to kiss his cheek and settling even further into his arms.

‘Okay, you’re next.’ Chris said, gesturing to Gen.

‘Um well it’s empty.’ She crossed her arms over her chest, as if she were accusing us for being at fault for it.

‘That’s impossible.’ Chris scoffed, ‘you put something in there. We all did.’

Gen rolled her eyes, ‘well I don’t know what to tell you, because there’s nothing in there.’

I sighed, glancing down to the pizza box beside us and noting the last slice, ‘does anyone want the last slice?’

Peter’s hand swooped in and took it and I shook my head in amusement when he offered me a bite before he ate it.

‘Well I never thought I’d see the day— Kavinsky sharing his food, must be true love.’ Trevor teased, ducking to avoid Chris shoving him.

‘Must be.’ Pete agreed, barely loud enough for me to hear. We shared a soft look and he kissed my forehead and finished his slice of pizza.

As I sat there in the arms of the boy I loved, I couldn’t help but once again thank whatever God, whatever deity had blessed me with Peter Kavinsky. Because I honestly didn’t know what I would do without him in my life; he made me whole in a way I didn’t realise I needed before we dated. I’d forever be grateful for him, and I’d never take our relationship for granted, because this was the kind of love they wrote movies about. I was sure of it.

A/N: I’ve had this one gaining traction in my documents for a few weeks. I started writing it a few weeks ago after I watched the sequel to To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before on Netflix, and I only got a thousand words in before I lost motivation for it. I recently picked it back up a few days ago and here we are 9,000+ words later! I hope ya’ll liked it, I’ve added some smut in for the first time in forever, forgive me if it sucks, I’m a bit rusty!

#peter kavinsky x reader #peter kavinsky x you #peter kavinsky #to all the boys 2 #to all the boys ive loved before movie

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consumedkings-archive · 3 years

Text

WITCHING HOUR, a john seed/deputy fic.

chapter eleven: after you've gone

word count: ~12.6k

rating: m

warnings: canon-typical religious blasphemy, though it's in full-force here with joseph so i wanted it to be noted in the warnings. there are mentions of self-harm, both past and implied presently, and they're not treated very lightly. elliot is having a hard time.

notes: there's a lot of moving parts in this so i apologize in advance if it feels a bit slow, but everything felt really important to include and i wanted to make sure nothing got left out. thank you so much to my beta @starcrier who literally proofed this beast with all of the love in the world.

i won't ramble on too much, but i did want to say that the reception for the last two chapters really made my whole heart just explode and i wanted to thank you all! what an incredible experience it is getting to write these two gigantic idiots. <3

“I saw her. Our mor.”

Helmi cradled the phone between her shoulder and ear, scribbling absently on the side of the file she’d continued nosing through once she’d gotten back to the bunker. Like this, she felt far from Kajsa—farther than she had in the longest time. Maybe since they had welcomed her into the Family.

“Did you?” She stretched back against the truck’s seat, feet kicked up on the dash as she scanned the page, going over her own notes. Starvation, classical condition. On animals and people? In the back seat of the truck, Peaches rumbled her discontent at lack of attention; Helmi reached back and scratched her ears until the rumble turned into what she recognized as a more contented purr.

“Yes. She is doing well. Her color is just as Ase said, you know. Perfectly balanced. Poor John—I can see his suffering.”

Helmi hmm’d, the thoughtfulness matching the patient rumble Peaches had rewarded her affection with.

“Is Deputy Pratt behaving?”

“I should hope so. He has no reason to have any loyalty to the Seeds, outside of fear.”

There was a pause on the other end of the phone. Helmi was sure, in the very marrow of her bones, that Kajsa was smiling.

“And what did you give him, Helmi? To make him loyal?”

She considered. “A more impressive fear.” And then: “Also, I said I wouldn’t kill him.”

“That is just a more impressive fear bundled up pretty, my heart.”

“Mm,” Helmi replied in agreement. Whatever the case, she thought that Pratt had more to gain from fucking the Seeds over than he did by fucking them over—and that’s why Kajsa entrusted this sort of thing to her and didn’t do it herself, after all. If it had been Kajsa here, eyeing Pratt like a piece of lunchmeat, she’d have him drugged to the gills and barely aware of what was going on. Not being of use.

It’s why we make a perfect pair, something inside of her said, joy shared, joy doubled.

“Don’t rest on your laurels.”

Sorrow shared, sorrow halved.

Helmi sighed. “I’m not.”

“Keep putting pressure. I want them squirming, hjärtat.”

“I will.” She paused, sitting up in the truck and glancing out at the remaining members of the Family. Those that hadn’t given themselves a swift, clean death. After Kian’s face was crushed in, Kajsa had gathered them all and said, It’s going to be harder, from here. If you feel you cannot do it, if you think that you do not have the strength to answer our calling, then it is your time. We love you.

It had been the time for many. Morale had been—and still was—low. Ase’s death first, gut-wrenching and tragic, and then Kian’s; worse than the last. Worse, because while he had been grieving, while he had been suffering, he had still been their second-in-command. Meant to be infallible, even more so than Ase. He had been meant to carry them into their next life, after It was appeased. Contented. After It had turned the world to winter.

Now, more than ever, with only a handful of them left to huddle around their fires and sleep in the backs of cars, and kiss and laugh and hug each other in the inky black night, they felt like a ship adrift at sea.

Kajsa’s voice hummed in her ear, plastic and metal vibrating where it lay trapped between her head and shoulder. Helmi’s gaze swept away from the remaining Family members and turned her gaze back to the file. The Seeds were deeply rooted in this place—the tendrils of a tree that might be dead at the trunk but stayed for many decades after, if it wasn’t ripped out at the base.

“Did you hear me, Helmi?”

“No,” she replied truthfully. “I was distracted.”

“I am coming back,” Kajsa reiterated patiently.

“The others will be happy.”

“And what about you? Will you be happy?”

Helmi paused. She closed the file, dropped it back onto the dashboard and cranked the seat back so that she could stretch a little, her eyes tracing the tinny, ancient ceiling of the truck she’d lifted from Eden’s Gate. She exhaled, once, and then held her breath; closed her eyes, felt the ache of it between her ribs.

“I sense before me a lost lamb.”

“Not lost,” Helmi replied, her lungs tight. “Just—thinking.”

“Must I divine the dark cloud over your soul myself?”

She allowed her body to take air back in. “I wonder,” she murmured, “if it will be enough to appease the Father.”

“Do you wonder,” Kajsa hummed, “or do you worry?”

A moment of silence stretched. And then, the rich, melodic timbre of the Hierophant’s voice came through again, idle and pulled snug against her ear, like Kajsa was really right there again to say the words against her skin: “What will you do, if Staci Pratt defects despite your Machiavellian threats of harm so great he should never consider to incur it?”

“I don’t know,” Helmi replied uneasily. “It would depend on if he brought mor and the interloper, or if he just—”

“The answer, hjärtat, is that you do not know, because it has not been revealed to you yet.” Despite the interruption, Kajsa’s voice was pleasant and serene. Ever since Ase’s death, she’d been more tempered—like she was playing a role, filling a void. Helmi almost missed her cruelty. Like it was a creature comfort. “There is no use in wondering, because we will never know before it is our time to. We want for much. Whether or not we are given it remains to be seen. Our Father is a most...”

Her voice trailed off. Helmi tried to think of what words Kajsa might use; stringent, perhaps, ambitious, or even enigmatic—

“Wretched god,” Kajsa finished, a grin in her voice. “It does so love to watch us toil, does It not?”

“Yes,” she answered after a moment, because wretched resonated somewhere in her soul, somewhere in the marrow of her bones, reminding her why this had felt like home ever in the first place. Wretched, to watch them suffer, to give them so little information and let them suffer wreck after wreck.

In front of her, the dark of the forest swelled, breathed, reminded her: failure was not an option. Theirs was not a benevolent, forgiving God, the kind who would forgive sin if one only asked—the Father was wrathful, was vengeful, and would make them suffer their insolence and their ineptitude.

“I should get going. I imagine our mor will not be far behind, thanks to your ingenuity, and I want to be in Hope County to welcome her.”

“I am,” Helmi blurted out after a second of hesitation, “happy, that you’re coming back.”

There was a pause on the other end; and then, a soft breath, where Helmi thought maybe Kajsa was smiling again.

“Ingenting under solen är beständigt, my heart.”

The call clicked. Only empty air and static, then, buzzing faintly in the ear, the words dead in her mouth before she’d had the chance to say them back.

Nothing under the sun is lasting.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Elliot was going to be sick. Nevermind the morning-after-dread of realizing she had caved in on her most basest animal desires—What, the man who’s perhaps lied to you the most tells you he’s never thought you’re crazy, and you let him fuck you? Come on, Elliot,—but listening to Pratt ramble nervously into the phone about how he didn’t realize everyone was gone, nobody stopped to look for him, nobody tried to call, he thought she had left too and she had, where was she? Was she okay?

“I’m fine,” she managed out. Guilt ripped through her sternum, burning hot and shameful. I’m fine, Pratt, don’t worry about me. Got well and truly railed last night, it’s fine. Oh, also, I’m going to have a baby. And I’m married. Don’t worry, you found out about the same time as me, just off a few weeks. “I’m at my mom’s.”

“In Georgia?”

“Yeah.” Elliot swallowed thickly. “Are you okay? You sound like shit.”

Pratt laughed uneasily on the other end of the line. “I’m with, uh—I’m with them.” He paused. “The Seeds. And their—the lawyer lady.”

“That doesn’t tell me if you’re okay,” she reiterated, more firmly.

He laughed again. “I’m on the phone with you, aren’t I?”

Frustrating. They might all be looming around him, waiting to hear what she was going to say. It was a trap, of course. Jacob or Joseph had done enough digging around in her past to find out they’d gone to school together, had gone to school dances, had basically dated—and they knew she’d evacuated the entirety of the Resistance otherwise. They were clearly laying a trap to get her to come back. But for what?

“Hey, um—” Staci cleared his throat. “Ell, there’s—a lot of bad stuff going on. There’s these people, and they’re—they’re just killing people, left and right, gutting them and sticking them up and—Jesus, they fucking split Miss Mabel open like a fish, and I’m—”

Oh, there it was; the sickness, the violent urge to throw up. The Family was supposed to be dead. They had been killing themselves off in pairs after Kian’s death, weren’t they? Elliot blinked rapidly, trying to calm the furious beating of her heart, the way it slammed against her rib cage and demanded penance.

Calloused fingers swept her hair to the side and squeezed at the juncture between her neck and shoulder in an attempt to comfort her. She closed her eyes tight, willing herself to accept it for what it was—John, comforting her, because even now he knew her well enough to see she was spiraling.

I can’t, is what she needed to say. I can’t come back, Staci, I can’t, not me and not my baby, my hands are already covered in blood I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry—

“—I’m so fucking scared, Ell.” Pratt’s voice wobbled on the other end, hitting straight at the fresh welt of guilt in her chest, ripping and tearing at it.

I can’t—

“I don’t want to be alone—”

I’m sorry I can’t I’m sorry—

“—I’m sorry—”

“I’ll come,” she blurted out, her voice hoarse, the burn behind her eyes and in her nose a threat of oncoming tears. She couldn’t stand it—couldn’t bear to hear him like this, when this whole time he was supposed to have been safe. She’d let him down, and while she had a responsibility to herself, the responsibility to the others had always come first.

And, better still, was the tiny, tiny fragment of hope that the dark-haired woman with a mouth like broken glass would be left behind, too. The dog with the man’s face and the strands of her hair glinting between Its bloody teeth would stay here, in Weyfield. It would wait for her, but perhaps there would be some peace there, too.

It waits for you, It waits for us all, It will have you. As It gives, so too does It take.

“Tell them I’m coming back.” Elliot bit the words out through her teeth. “And tell them if I come back and you’re hurt, or dead, or—if there’s anything wrong with you, I’m going to fucking kill them. Okay?”

“No need,” came Jacob’s voice over the phone. “You’re on speaker, Deputy Honeysett. We’re well acquainted with your particular brand of mania.”

“Great,” she snapped, feeling a vicious flush spread through her cheeks despite the fact that she didn’t feel bad at all for what she’d said. “You thought I was fucking manic before? I had nothing to lose, then. Imagine how much worse I’ll make your life now—”

John’s hand squeezed again. This time, she shot him a venomous look over her shoulder and shrugged him off. Elliot knotted her fingers in Boomer’s fur and prompted again, “Is that clear?”

The eldest Seed sounded like he was smiling when he said, “Crystal, Deputy.”

“Good.” She paused. “And don’t fucking call me that. I’m not a deputy, anymore.”

“Sure thing, hellcat.”

“Pratt—”

Jacob’s voice came again: “Have a safe trip.”

The phone call beeped once, twice, three times, and then ended. The hard knot of dread in the pit of her stomach did not lessen; she hit the redial button, and it went straight to voicemail. Again, and again, and again, her hands shaking as she thought wait, I didn’t get to say goodbye, I didn’t get to promise I’d be there, I’m coming Pratt, I’m coming please don’t be worried, before she shoved the phone into John’s grip.

“Call him back,” she demanded, “make him pick up the phone—”

“Elliot,” he began, “if he turned the phone off, I can’t—”

“Fuck you!” she snapped, coming to a stand and raking her fingers through her hair. “You fucking knew they had Pratt, didn’t you? You knew that he was still trapped there and he didn’t get out, and you fucking left him there, so that you could pull me back if it didn’t go the way you wanted—”

John stood too, setting the phone on the bedside table and lifting his hands. The gesture was meant to calm and soothe, see my hands? Here they are, no threat here, but all it did was make her angrier, stoke a fire inside of her that had apparently lain dormant since she’d left Hope County.

Elliot smacked his hands down. “Don’t treat me like some fucking animal, John.”

“I’m not,” he defended quickly, dropping his hands all the way back to his sides when Boomer barked twice, sharp and accusatory, hackles lifting. “I didn’t know Pratt was still there. I thought the Resistance had got him out, and I didn’t bother asking.”

“You should have bothered—”

“I’m just as displeased as you are,” John interjected dryly, the dark coloring of his tone implying that he was—but for perhaps a different reason. It struck her that he might, in fact, be so displeased because he was aware of their history, on some level. It did feel a little gratifying to know that he was squirming for such an insignificant reason.

“You fuckhead,” she spit. “You put a fucking baby in me and you still have the insecurity of a middle school boy.”

“We both know,” he replied tartly, “that our baby is not in any way binding you to me, Elliot. And is it so shocking, considering that the thing that I want most in the world is for you to come home, and you fight me at every turn—”

“Hope County isn’t my home anymore—”

“—but Staci Pratt calls you and cries a little into the phone, and you’re jumping at the bit to go back?”

“Fuck. Off,” Elliot bit out between her teeth, face flushing. “Pratt is my friend, which is more than I can say for you.”

“Right,” John agreed, “because you let the person you hate fuck you.”

Her mouth clamped shut, biting and swallowing back a wad of venom she thought might make her sick if she let it out. There was too much of it, the things that she wanted to say—fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou, I fucking hate you, you make me sick, if anything is wrong with Pratt I’ll kill your brothers and then I’ll fucking kill you too—but she didn’t say any of it.

Instead, she said, “Get out. I’m getting changed and we’re leaving.”

John sighed, passing a hand over his face for a moment like maybe he regretted what he’d said. “We can’t.”

She felt her voice spike, near incredulous hysteria: “Pardon?”

“Old Father Time of the Job Ineptitude mentioned he had Federal agents showing up out of nowhere,” he snapped. The words had her stomach twisting; her first thought was a tiny spike of happiness at the idea of Cameron Burke, and then it was quickly doused by the sharp reminder that she’d stolen his gun and ran with it. Because he thought she was crazy. Because he was going to put her behind bars.

John continued, “He seemed to be implying it was somehow related to me showing up, and by proxy you, and if we up and leave—”

“It’ll make it look more suspicious,” she finished, feeling a little numb. “Okay, so—what? How long do we have to wait?”

He scratched his cheek, his eyes flickering absently over the duvet on the bed, like he was trying to map it out in his own head. No doubt, he was trying to operate on multiple timelines—the timeline of Not Raising Suspicion, and whatever timeline Joseph had given him.

Some things really did never change.

“After your mother’s Christmas party,” he ventured finally. “It’s not quite Christmas—could look enough like we’re sticking around for enough holiday cheer to be passable before leaving again. Pritchard’s clearly not unfamiliar with your mother’s...”

His voice trailed off. He looked to her as though asking for permission to say something critical; when Elliot remained stonefaced and immovable, he finished, “...temperament.”

“Nice save.”

“Well,” he replied, humble as ever. “Anyway, that probably wouldn’t rouse suspicion. If it is Burke, and your house isn’t getting stormed right now, I have to think he’s here on unofficial business. Otherwise, why wouldn’t they just come and bust the door down and grab you?”

Elliot hoped that was the case. She hoped this meant that Burke was just trying to find her, and was not hunting her down at the behest of the government. If there was one thing that Joseph had been right about amidst all his doomsday-saying and whatnot, it was that according to the news, there was a big chance the government had bigger things on their hands. Bigger concerns than a tiny town in Montana and its cult inhabitants.

“Get out,” she said again. “So I can change.”

“You—” John sucked in a little breath, stopping himself from what was inevitably going to be stirring another argument; he lifted his hands again, this time in surrender. “Alright, Ell. I said you’d get anything you want, I’ll give it to you.”

“Chop-chop.”

“I’m going. Mind if I pull some clothes on before I walk out into the house owned by your mother, where she has almost assuredly been sipping her vodka martini since four AM?”

She felt her eyes narrow. “Fine.”

Turning, she crossed the bedroom into the master bath and shut the door behind her, pressing the heels of her palms to her eyes until fine webbing scattered across the dark of her eyelids. This was the last thing she needed—and it felt, surely, traitorous and awful to think it, to think, this is the last thing I need, Pratt needing rescuing, when the only reason she’d felt comfortable leaving Hope County in the first place was because she thought the only people who were left were cultists.

Elliot dropped her hands from her eyes, blinking a few times until her vision cleared. In the mirror—much as it had been since coming back from Hope County—stood a girl that she thought looked like a stranger. Blushed cheeks and kiss-reddened lips, her neck littered with love marks, the healthy glow blooming up from beneath the WRATH scar on her chest, exposed by her loosely cinched robe.

That’s not me, she thought, pulling absently on a strand of red hair and swallowing thickly. I’m not that girl.

Her face was softer than before, more lively color rising up around her eyes and cheeks and mouth. More of her freckles had come out. There was a tiny, tiny—almost imperceptible—slope to her tummy, now, too.

Not me, came the thought again, more distressed this time, her brows pulling together at the center of her forehead. That’s not me. I’m not that girl. Who are you, pretty girl? Not me.

The woman and her dark hair—dark dark dark, like an oil slick, looming in the corner of her mind. Her mouth red as pomegranate and stretched like broken glass.

I hear stress is bad for the baby.

A knock came at the door. Elliot blinked, feeling unwell and unsure of how long she’d been standing there, her hand having dropped to cup the slope of her stomach experimentally. Women did that, right? When they were pregnant? Did it make them feel closer to the baby? Did it make them feel more protected?

Did she feel safer?

“Ell,” John said, nudging the door open, “your mother is...”

Pulling away from the door, she cinched the robe tight and busied herself at the sink, turning the water on. As he stepped into the bathroom, she could see John was now fully-dressed, freshly-showered. She’d been standing in front of the mirror trying to recognize the person staring back at her long enough for him to do that, it seemed.

“That was a quick shower,” she said briskly, splashing her face and rubbing absently at her cheek. She could feel John’s eyes on her through the mirror, even though she refused to meet them.

“I’ve always preferred it that way,” he replied casually. And then: “Get distracted?”

Yes, she thought, but didn’t say, because then the things he’d said last night that had made her feel sane and normal wouldn’t mean anything anymore. John would have said I don’t think you’re crazy and he’d have to take it back, because if she told him there was a stranger standing in her mirror, he would think she was crazy.

“It’s weird,” is what Elliot offered after a moment, trying to find a way to be honest and redirect, “to see a baby bump. Even if it’s small.” She cleared her throat and fished her toothbrush out of the holder. Continuing briskly, she added, “And the scar. I spent a lot of time avoiding it.”

John’s expression had done that funny thing that she supposed was softening at her words. He stepped forward; the ghost of his fingers trailing her ribs over the robe made her skin prickle with goosebumps.

“I’m not done being mad at you,” she warned him, eyes flickering to meet his gaze through the mirror.

“I know,” he replied, tone agreeable. “I just—”

The brunette paused then, waiting for her to stop him before he smoothed the warmth of his palm over her hip, across the expanse of her abdomen. It was painfully intimate in a way that didn’t imply sex—intimate, in the way that she felt seen, that she could see the relief coloring the edges of his expression.

John pressed his mouth to the back of her shoulder. “Just missed you,” he murmured after a moment. “Getting to touch you. Even just like this. Especially just like this—”

Something panged sharp and unforgiving in her chest. “Well, don’t get used to it,” she replied tightly, brushing his hand away from the baby bump after letting it linger for a moment. “And I don’t remember inviting you in.”

“Your mother was asking after you,” John said, by way of explanation, looking pleased from their little moment. Fucker. “She wanted to know if you’d be drinking coffee this morning. I think her exact words were, ‘Mr. Seed, would you ask my daughter if she’s going to take the risk of drinking coffee this morning? I know she shouldn’t be, with her condition—’”

“Ugh.”

“‘—but since we’re going to be picking out her dress for the Christmas party today, I could make an exception—’”

“Fuck me,” she muttered, wetting her toothbrush and putting the toothpaste on it. “Ask her if she can make it extra strong.”

“I’m actually enjoying being out of your mother’s ire for a minute.”

Elliot rolled her eyes. “No coffee for me.”

“Got it.” John headed for the bathroom door, and then paused again, turning to look at her. “Ell,” he began, “I really didn’t know—you know, about Pratt.”

That pesky little flutter of something agonizingly sweet—softness—in her chest flared again.

“I don’t want to talk about it anymore,” is what she said, before she turned the toothbrush on and started scrubbing her teeth. That seemed enough of an answer for John, for once, because he left and closed the door quietly behind him after deliberating.

The minutes, and hours, and days—well, day or two—until they got back to Hope County were going to be something close to agony. She could only hope they had taken her seriously when she told them that she’d better come back to a Pratt in one piece.

I don’t want to be alone. Pratt’s voice echoed hauntingly in her head. She thought she could remember the sound of voices in the background—a woman’s, at least. Faith? Or John’s friend, Isolde? Surely Jacob and Joseph were there listening to him call her, too. She’d been so fucking stupid to let them get to her.

No, not stupid. Not stupid to want Pratt to feel safe, and like someone was coming back for him.

I’m sorry, she thought tiredly, as though the words could somehow get to him. I’m sorry, that it’s me you have to wait for.

I’m sorry that I won’t be the person you remembered.

I’m sorry.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“You did so well, Staci.”

Faith’s voice jarred him out of the weird pause in time he’d been marinating in. It had been just a few seconds, maybe—Jacob and Joseph were talking in low voices, the dark-haired woman standing at the point of their little triangle with her arms crossed and her brows furrowed—that his brain had shut off, the distress in Elliot’s voice echoing eerily in his head. She’d sounded so upset. He wouldn’t have called, wouldn’t have started to ask her to come back, if he’d known how much she didn’t want to.

But that wasn’t true, either. He would have called, because Helmi had said, Either the Seeds are going to drag her back by her hair kicking and screaming, and eventually kill her, or she comes back and we keep her safe.

‘Safe’ had been the keyword there. He didn’t know how much he could take the woman at her word, but considering everything—well, it was better than trying to take the Seeds at their word.

Faith’s hand touched the back of his, startling him into a tiny jump. He cleared his throat. “Um—I wasn’t...Acting.”

“Still,” she replied sweetly, “I know it must have been hard.”

She was so polished—skin all dusted silver and moonlike, flushed with a little high color in her cheeks, her blonde hair tumbling around her face loosely. In the chapel, the air was tepid at best, and frigid at worst, keeping a little pink in everyone’s faces.

It was strange to look at her now. Her hands were soft; her skin unblemished. Just hours ago, he’d been sitting in the car, noticing the same kinds of details about Helmi—about how human she looked, hand slung over a steering wheel, her cracked phone plugged into the truck’s stereo and her chipped nail polish and the scars and bruises littering her knuckles. The way she’d shot him a toothy, wolfish grin as she cranked the volume up and said, What, Staci Pratt, you don’t like Blue Öyster Cult either?

In comparison, Faith didn’t feel human at all. She felt like a dream.

“Can—” Pratt came to a stand, rubbing his palms on the tops of his thighs. “Can I go? Lay down, or something?”

Three pairs of eyes snapped to him. The dark-haired woman, who Jacob kept referring to as Sol, completely ignored his question and looked at the redhead to say, “Has someone checked him for head trauma?”

“I’m not—concussed!” Pratt snapped, his voice wobbling. “I’m just tired.”

Jacob’s eyes narrowed. He looked like maybe he wanted to say something, and then reconsidered, saying, “Dr. Hale will take a look at you and then sure, Peaches, you can rest.”

It took every ounce of his self-control to not tell Jacob to stop calling him that. He had to remember that as far as they were concerned, he hadn’t been taken in by the “other side”, he’d been sitting scared and meek like a good boy at the compound.

Pratt’s eyes darted, catching sight of the woman that Jacob gestured to with a free hand. Right. The Fall’s End vet. She’d been here for what—a little over a year? He couldn’t tell if she was being held captive by Eden’s Gate or if she was there by her own volition, though the few times he’d run into her before she’d seemed like a pretty even-keel person. Didn’t she have like, two degrees or something? What was she doing here?

He made his way to the back of the church, meeting the curly-haired blonde halfway. Definitely looked too clean to be a cultist. “You’re not a people doctor, right?” he asked uneasily, watching as her head cocked to the side and her mouth quirked in a bit of amusement.

“No, Mr. Pratt, I am not a people doctor.” She fell into step beside him, opening the chapel door for him. “But I do have first aid training, which I think is about as good as you’re going to get around these parts.”

“I didn’t get a concussion.”

“That’s good. When was the last time you ate?”

His mouth twisted in a frown, trailing after through the snow as the cold began to sink into his bones. She seemed awfully confident moving around the compound, if she wasn’t part of the cult. But if she was, what was she doing here? How did—?

Pain bloomed behind his eyes, a fresh headache sinking into his nerves. Too much. It was too much confusion, about Elliot (pregnant? And John Seed was with her?) and about the Family and about all of these—these people that he didn’t really recognize hanging around the Seeds. And the compound was so quiet. Where was everyone? Had the Family really taken that many of Eden’s Gate out?

“Mr. Pratt?”

The woman opened a door into a bunkhouse that glowed with golden light from within and radiated heat. Two long-haired shepherds lay on the floor at the foot of the bed, lifting long faces and peering at him with dark eyes. He stepped inside and cleared his throat.

“Uh, a day, maybe,” he replied after a minute. Taking a seat when she gestured for him to, he shifted uncomfortably as she set a first aid kid on the cushion beside him and pulled one of the wooden chairs up in front of him.

“And slept?” She blew a curl out of her face and opened the kit, fishing around to find some alcohol wipes and Neosporin. He guessed he was a bit worse for wear than he’d thought, initially; not that he’d been taking great care of himself, even when it had just been him and Dani. She’d encouraged him to stay high, not stay better.

Fuck, I’m such an idiot.

He let out a little hiss when she pressed one of the alcohol wipes to a cut on his cheek.

“The same,” he replied, reaching up and brushing her hand away. “What—what are you doing here, doctor?”

“Arden is fine.” She sat back, regarding him curiously. “I’m cleaning that cut, Mr. Pratt. It looks agitated.”

“No, I—” Pratt let out a little breath. “I mean here. In the compound.”

Arden stared at him for a moment, like she didn’t understand why he was asking her that question. She lifted her hand and arched a brow inquisitively; when he nodded shortly, she leaned forward again, balancing her free hand on his shoulder and using the other to gently dab at the cut.

“I’ve spent the last month or so holed up in my house,” she explained to him. “Me, and the dogs, I mean.”

A little smile ghosted over her lips, and despite himself, Pratt felt a wry smile tugging at his own. It was difficult not to feel relaxed, when Arden moved with so much surety. In the glow of the radiators ticking away and the warm yellow light, especially.

“Mostly reading. They had assigned one of the boys to me—Santiago. I think he’s John’s man. He doesn’t strike me as one of Joseph or Faith’s.”

Pratt made a little noise of agreement, because he knew exactly what she was talking about. She dropped the alcohol wipes to the side and reached over for the Neosporin, dabbing some onto her finger and then reaching back up to resume her work.

“Sorry,” he said after a moment. “That you got—stuck, I mean. Here.”

“Oh, you don’t need to apologize, Mr. Pratt.”

“I feel partially responsible,” he admitted, feeling some of the tension flee his shoulders. “You know, being law enforcement and all—”

“Hold still, please.”

“Sorry,” he said again. “I guess what I mean is—sometimes it feels like a real failing on our part. All of those people, I...”

He paused, and Arden leaned back, giving him a pat on the knee. “That’s alright, Mr. Pratt,” and her voice bloomed with comfort. “Where was I?”

“Up at your house, with the dogs and maybe one of John’s men.”

“Right. I wasn’t allowed to leave, you know, on account of the—” She gestured with an elegant hand. “Cult running amok.”

He nodded. “Cult number two.”

Arden smiled, and continued, “And then just a few days ago, after one of them started killing those folks in Fall’s End, Jacob came up to get me.”

The way she said it made him feel, a little uneasily, that maybe he was misreading it. Jacob came up to get me did not sound like Jacob came to pick me up because I’m his prisoner.

And then she said, “He was worried, you know. Only having a radio up there. I know how to use a gun, but I’d prefer not to, if I don’t have to, and—”

“Sorry,” he blurted out, “but are you—”

She blinked light eyes at him, almost owlishly, like she didn’t understand the question. “Am I...?”

“With? Them?” Pratt gestured towards where the chapel lay, beyond the bunkhouse walls. “The—Eden’s Gate?”

“Oh!” Arden laughed, almost sheepishly; he felt a nervous little laugh bubbling out of him too, almost hoping for the relief of her assuring him that she was, in fact, not in league with the Darwinian psycho that had spent the last few months mindfucking every resident he could get his hands on.

She came to a stand and pulled a bottle of ibuprofen and a granola bar out of the kit, dropping them in his hand.

“Eat the bar before you take the ibuprofen,” she told him, “or it’ll—well, I’m sure you know. Upset stomach, and all that. Do you want to take a shower?”

Pratt’s fingers curled around the ibuprofen bottle. “You didn’t answer my question.”

“I’m sorry,” Arden replied, not sounding very sorry at all, “I guess I just thought it a bit silly. Who else would I be “with”?”

His stomach somersaulted, sinking viciously. Suddenly, the granola bar—which had certainly been sitting in the kit for who knew how long—looked even less appetizing than before. While his vision swam for a second, the woman carried on conversationally, as though she had not just revealed herself to—

Well, to be in league with the Darwinian psycho that had spent the last few months mindfucking every resident he could get his hands on.

“But—they think the world is ending,” Pratt blurted out, lifting his eyes to look at her finally. “And—doctor, all the people they killed, and—”

“Don’t strain yourself, Mr. Pratt. You’ve been under quite a bit of duress as of late, I think, and it would be best to try and keep those stress levels down.” She moved to the small pantry beside the bathroom, shuffling around and producing a few towels, leaning into the bathroom to set them on the counter. “Though, you do bring up a funny point—have you been listening to the news? I suppose you haven’t. I remember listening to the news before all of this business went down and thinking that the world had ended a long time ago. We were just a bit behind, all the way out here. Do you want to take a shower?”

Blinking furiously, Pratt searched his brain for the answer; he muddled through the disappointment raking down his spine, the delicate little hope that had been fostered at the prospect of finding someone who was kind and not under the Seeds’ thumb being crushed beneath the weight of the reality of his situation.

“Yes please,” he managed out, his voice hoarse.

“Alright. Eat that bar first, so you don’t pass out in the hot water. And Mr. Pratt?”

“Y—” He had clumsily ripped open the granola bar and shoved half into his mouth, the fear of being seen as disobedient when Jacob Seed was within radius flickering like a wildfire through his body. He swallowed thickly, the dry food feeling like it was sticking to the inside of his mouth. “Um, yes?”

Her expression colored sympathetic, Arden reached down and fished a water bottle out of the case, dropping it in his hand.

“The honorific isn’t necessary,” she told him. “Remember, Arden is just fine.”

“Yes ma’am,” he mumbled. “I mean—Arden.”

She smiled, this time with teeth. “Good. You holler if you need me.”

I won’t, he thought, even though she was probably preferable to anyone else coming to his rescue.

Maybe he really would rather be dead.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Scarlet insisted that John stay at the house while they went to the boutique. It was all a big show of his mother-in-law attempting, he thought, to be polite, though she failed miserably at it; and as much as John wanted to argue that it would probably be best if he came along—considering their late-night visitor—he could tell when a battle was a lost one, and when it wasn’t.

“Do you think you can do that, Mr. Seed?” she asked, pulling the objectively ostentatious fur coat around her shoulders and buttoning it. “Remain in my home for a few hours, without causing me any problems?”

He said, “I think I can certainly give it a shot,” to which the blonde rolled her eyes.

“Please do more than that.”

“Rest assured, I am fully capable of behaving myself, Mrs. Honeysett.”

He couldn’t wait to be rid of her. Every second he spent in her presence, being reminded of how little she liked him given how much she didn’t know about him—or care to get to know about him, anyway—he thought, I cannot fucking wait to get back to Hope County and the resurgence of the Family. I cannot wait until that is my only fucking problem. Anyone else and she would have been thoroughly cleansed; clearly, Wrath ran in the family. Just the thought of it made his fingers itch.

Elliot had looked tired already, standing at the door and letting her mother go first. As soon as Scarlet was out the door, carefully picking her way down the front steps, John’s hand went to Ell’s hip; her lashes fluttered at the contact, but she didn’t jerk away; only tensed, considering the act of balking and pulling away from him but not yet committing. So there had been progress.

Her free hand came to his shoulder, resting there uncertainly. “Please don’t do anything to my mother’s house.”

“As much as I would love to, I will refrain from my wretched impulses. I am a man of God, after all.” He grimaced. “Do you think she’ll like me more if things are immaculate?”

“Ha-ha. She certainly will not.” She paused, letting out a little breath. “Okay. Back in an hour.”

He felt a smile tug at his mouth. “Ambitious.” His hand drifted to the small of her back, and he said, “Ell, before you go—”

“John, I don’t—”

Elliot turned to look at him at the same time that he stepped forward, closing what little distance there was and rapidly; she blinked, and her eyes flickered to his mouth instinctively, like she was expecting it—like she’d gotten used to the affection when he closed in on her like that. The gesture sent a little thrill through his stomach.

Mine.

“Don’t let her stress you out,” John murmured, keeping his voice low between just the two of them. “You’ll look good in whatever you pick.”

She turned her face away, cheeks going pink. “What’s this, huh? Still trying to make up for being a complete fuckhead this morning?”

He grinned. “You really have gotten brattier.”

“Goodbye, John,” she said, and then he leaned in and kissed her; the connection made every part of him sigh, collectively, as though he’d just been waiting for it.

Waiting for her.

Yes yes yes, it all said when she didn’t pull away, his fingers curling into the fabric of her sweater at the small of her back as her hand slipped from his shoulder to his chest, yes, mine all mine.

Elliot did pull back after a moment, putting a bit of space between them—though it seemed more to catch her breath than anything else. She only pulled back enough for their eyes to meet; John’s gaze darted downward, watching pearly teeth as they tugged at her lower lip, worrying it there for a moment.

“To answer your question,” he continued as casually as he could, “that’s not how I intend on making that up to you.”

“So you agree?” Elliot asked. Her voice came out evenly, despite the color blooming underneath the freckles on her cheeks. “You were being a complete fuckhead this morning?”

“I did so miss our banter.”

“Bunny,” Scarlet called impatiently from the driveway, “the boutique is going to get crowded if we don’t get there when it opens.”

“I’m coming!” Her gaze darted back to him. “The best way to make it up to me would be to say the words out loud,” Elliot informed him as she inched toward the door. “So that baby can hear them, too. At least you’ll have been more honest around our child than with me, if we’re keeping a running tally, and we should—”

He tugged her back from the doorway again, lighter, more playful as he went in to kiss her a second time; but she pulled back, just out of his reach, hand planted firmly on his chest.

Elliot said, “I told you not to get used to it.”

“I’m not,” he answered lightly, “just taking what I can get.”

“Elliot.”

“Coming!” Elliot cinched her coat up more snug, closer to her throat and where the scar lay expertly over her sternum, and snagged the keys off of the counter to the beat-up Honda Civic John had lifted from Eden’s Gate. Right. He couldn’t wait to hear Scarlet’s input on that car ride.

The redhead made it down two steps before she paused, turning and looking at John and going, “Um, bye,” in a tone that was more sheepish than he anticipated; it was almost shy, and it caught him so off-guard that he didn’t even get the chance to muster a response before she was making her way across the snowy driveway.

“Drive safe,” John called, once he’d gathered his senses a bit more. Elliot glanced at him over her shoulder and then ducked into the car, closing the door and beginning to pull her way down the drive. He waited until they’d turned onto the freshly plowed road before he turned back into the house and closed the front door behind him.

Boomer had seated himself in front of the window, letting out a little whine as his tail swept along the floor.

“C’mon, furry sentinel,” he sighed, not risking putting his hand within biting reach. “Just you and me today.”

The Heeler whined again, apparently thoroughly displeased at this news, and stayed rooted at the window to watch for his girl to come home.

Fishing his phone out of his pocket, he hit the redial button on the number they’d gotten a call from that morning and waited as the phone rang, pacing around the polished living room. It rang enough times as he idly adjusted glasses on a bar cart that he thought for certain no one would pick up—and then the phone clicked, and a warm voice came through.

“Hi, John.”

He blinked in surprise. “Hello, Faith. How’d you get this phone?”

“Isolde passed it to me when she saw your call. She wanted me to tell you that she’s too busy to talk to you.”

A wry smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Sounds like everything’s operating as normal, then.”

“I suppose.” Faith paused. “Are you coming home soon?”

“I am.”

“With Elliot?”

“Yes, she—” John cleared his throat and made an effort to sound as unbothered as possible. “She’s very concerned about Deputy Pratt’s well-being.”

“We’re taking good care of him. Will you tell her that? Better than he’d be getting out there, anyway,” and she said the word out there with such a surprising amount of venom that John realized he’d nearly forgotten about the Family’s reappearance. Well, there couldn’t be that many of them left, could there?

And then Faith said, “A lot of us are dead, John.”

His hand went to the mantle for a little support as he leaned against it. There was a bit of a bite to Faith’s voice—almost accusatory. A lot of us are dead, she said, as he stood in the plush home of his mother-in-law while they went dress shopping for a Christmas party. It occurred to him that none of his siblings—nor Isolde—were aware of what they’d been dealing with the last couple of days; they must have felt like he was getting off easy.

“The Father says we only have a little while longer,” she continued, “and that if we can’t fix this in time, we won’t wait for you. He’s been alone, a lot. Talking to God. Praying for more time, for you.”

The words made his stomach wrench, a little. He would have felt worse if he didn’t know already that there was an exit plan in place, one that Elliot was already on board for. “We’re only here for another day, and then we’re leaving” John replied. “The sheriff mentioned some—Federal agents. I don’t want to rouse suspicion and bring them down on us again.”

“Do you think it’s Burke?”

“Maybe.” He pressed his forehead against the stone mantle. “Probably. No one’s come storming in yet.”

“I hope it’s him. I hope he follows you all the way back here.” And then, darker: “He has a lot to apologize for.”

John made a low noise of agreement. It felt good to have a conversation with someone who seemed to be on the same side as him, for once—no bickering with Scarlet, no bickering with Elliot, and no bickering with Isolde. As of late, it seemed he was only capable of incurring arguments; though that did seem to be changing quickly with his wife.

“We’re having a service soon. Did you want me to tell Joseph anything?”

“Ah, no, that’s alright. I just wanted to let you know we had a plan.”

“Do you want to talk to him?”

“No,” John said again, more quickly and with a bout of unease sprinting up his spine. “No, that’s alright. I’ll let you go. We’ll be home soon, okay?”

“Alright.” Faith’s voice lightened when she added, “Tell Elliot I said hello.”

Bad idea, he thought, but said, “Of course,” and hit the end call button. It wasn’t until his entire body relaxed that he realized he’d been fully tensed, waiting for some kind of verbal blow—and though there had been a few, he felt...

Fine.

I feel fine.

It was fine. Everything was fine. Joseph was praying for more time for them. They’d make it back without a hitch. And then, when the world ended, and took the remainder of the Family with them—

Well, that would be all the better.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“My children.”

The heaters rattled, clicking in the lukewarm air in a steady, mechanical heartbeat. Candles lit throughout the chapel drenched the members of Eden’s Gate in a strange, golden glow, and as Joseph’s voice carried all the way to the back where Staci sat between Jacob and Arden. He could see in the front row sat Faith and the dark-haired woman—who he’d come to understand was Isolde Khan, John’s old business partner—and there was a moment where Joseph’s eyes fixed on her before they lifted back to the congregation.

“God has truly been testing us,” the man continued, pacing away from the altar the front, hands folded behind him. “As you know, I have spent a lot of time in silence and solitude so that I might be the most open to receiving from Him. For the longest time, I thought—had we done something wrong? Had I led us astray? Were we being punished?”

An uneasy murmur rippled throughout the crowd. In the front, Pratt could see Isolde writing something down in a notebook; he wished he was closer, so he could see what it was—what was so interesting that she was taking notes now, of all times? What could she possibly be doing?

Preparing for the worst-case scenario, he thought idly, shifting in his seat. Jacob’s eyes cut over to him and he cleared his throat. The shower had done nothing to ease his nerves.

“But I’ll tell you—devout, and loyal, we have not been left to the wayside.” Joseph stopped, pressing a hand onto a woman’s shoulder, squeezing. “I have heard His voice. I have received His word. We are not only followers of God’s word—we are His soldiers.”

The noise that passed through the congregation this time was brighter, agreements—it must have felt good. Not just passive sheep, to be shepherded; soldiers. Capable of violence. And they were.

“We are His warriors.”

The woman Joseph’s hand was on was getting teary-eyed, and when he departed from her to sidle his way down the aisle, she all but collapsed in on herself, folding in half to bury her face in her hands. Another attestation of acknowledgment rippled around him, louder.

“This world is a wretched, vile machine, taking in and spitting out sin, flooding our garden with locusts,” the Prophet continued, his voice lifting in volume. “We are, my children, the only people who have the great fortune of seeing this—of knowing what no one else in the world seems capable of understanding. God has told me—”

Sick, Pratt thought dizzily, I’m going to be sick.

“—that a life of bliss awaits us, if we can only...”

Joseph paused, as though he needed to look for the words, as though he hadn’t been reciting this all day in preparation for the sermon; Pratt knew that he must, the assured cadence of his voice coming so firmly that there was no way it wasn’t rehearsed.

“...look past the dread, and the fear,” he continued earnestly, allowing his hand to be taken by another member, “because fear is the language of the Devil—if we can look past it, and dedicate ourselves fully to His cause, there is only happiness and serenity waiting for us on the other side of this.”

“How do we do it, Father?” a man to the other side of Jacob cried out, his voice a panicked fever-pitch. “How do we show Him we’re devoted?”

Joseph’s head turned. His gaze landed on Pratt, lingering before lifting to the congregant. “We’ve got to stop the machine.”

Optimism flooded the crowd. An easy solution. Stop the machine, like it was nothing. Like they weren’t dealing with a group of people who killed as easily as they did.

“Throw your bodies upon the gears, upon the wheels, upon all the apparatus,” Joseph intoned dutifully, pacing back toward the front. “Whatever it takes to bring the machine to a grinding halt. We can no longer passively take part in the End—we are warriors of God, and our divine right is not instinctively endowed. It is earned. And we will show that we have earned it by exterminating these interlopers invading our garden.”

Pratt’s mouth pressed into a thin line. Eden’s Gate members came to a stand around him; loomed in his vision; eclipsed what little murky light reached him. Cheers and applause rolling around in his head. He thought for sure he’d heard this all somewhere, before—

Oh, yes. And you've got to indicate to the people who run it, to the people who own it, that unless you're free, the machine will be prevented from working at all! The irony of Joseph lifting lines from an activist’s speech was not lost on him.

A heavy hand gripped the collar of his shirt, hauling him to his feet. “Stand up,” Jacob muttered. “Good posture’s important.”

He steadied himself on the pew ahead of him. Amidst the chatter of the congregation, eventually quieted down by Joseph’s patience at the front of the chapel, he could hear renewed excitement. More life had been breathed into the peggies than he’d seen in a long time—well, considering that he’d only been here roughly a day, and the whole place felt like a ghost town even now, that was saying something.

“Please,” Joseph called lightly, “join me in prayer.”

Heads bowed. Pratt let his chin drop to his chest, but his eyes didn’t close; his gaze darted to his right, where Arden stood, hands clasped politely in front of her. Her head did not bow for prayer.

He was only vaguely aware of the words coming out of Joseph’s mouth, redirecting his eyes back to the floorboards beneath his worn shoes. Lord, we pray that you might show us guidance and wisdom in these uncertain times; show us how to be most like you, for only you are perfect...

Elliot was going to come back to this. She was going to come back to this, and he was going to have to figure out how to get her out of here without any of the Seeds noticing. Helmi had said, meet me out back, by the river, in three nights, but he couldn’t keep track. Had it been one night? Two? Less than one?

“I am your Father,” Joseph was saying. “You are my Children. Together, and only together, will we march through the Gates of Eden.”

A rousing amen echoed around him. They milled about, chatting excitedly—perhaps delighted to have a focus for their ire, for their agitation. The members of Eden’s Gate looked worse than Pratt remembered. Dirtier. Thinner. More exhausted. He thought that it must be nice to have a purpose—

Fuck me, not that shit again.

He filed out of the row behind Arden, and with Jacob behind him, following her to the front where Isolde and Joseph stood. They were speaking in low tones, bundled close together; she tapped her ten against the front of her notepad in what looked like an agitated tick, but he couldn’t hear what it was she was saying. By the time they were close that he might have heard, Joseph lifted his head from where he’d bent a little to speak closely and looked at him, smiling.

“It was nice to see your face in the crowd this day, Deputy Pratt,” he said, his voice warm. “Did you enjoy the sermon?”

Pratt opened his mouth, and then closed it. He didn’t want to play this game.

“Go on, Peaches,” Jacob prompted, clapping his shoulder.

The nickname sparked something angry inside of him, like dragging a match against the sandpaper side of the box. If there’s anything wrong with you, I’m going to kill them, Elliot had said.

Pratt turned his gaze to Joseph. “I thought the Mario Savio part was a bit much.”

A surprised, abrupt laugh barked out of Jacob. Joseph’s expression remained flat and serene. In fact, the only person who seemed to have any negative opinion about his words was Isolde, narrowing her eyes as she turned to look at him fully.

“We’re not exactly looking to hit notes with the intellectuals in the crowd, Deputy Pratt,” she informed him coolly. “They don’t care who said it first. They care who said it better.”

“Y—” Pratt swallowed. “Okay, well—”

“‘Okay, well’ shut the fuck up,” she snapped. “Or I’ll have Jacob take you out back and put you down like Old Yeller.”

“You can’t,” he protested quickly, “Elliot said—”

“Do you think I care in the least what some woman five states away said?” Isolde cut over him quickly, the elegant, soft roll of her accent a strange and unsettling juxtaposition to her words. “I’m getting this ship in fit fucking order, and that means I don’t need you inspiring dissent. Anyone with an opinion that is less than glowing, radiant, gorgeous—they get taken care of, whatever that means. Got it?”

Pratt closed his mouth tightly, until the pressure was beginning to build between his molars. I just have to make it until Elliot gets here, and then—and then I’ll—then I can get—

He took in a little breath. “Yes.”

“Peachy.” Isolde flashed a smile that was all-too-saccharine, and then turned to Joseph. “Let’s sit.”

“Of course.”

They departed to a pew just to the left of them. Jacob was grinning at him, wolfish.

“Thought about telling you she wrote it,” he said, “but that was much more entertaining.”

“You look pale, Staci,” added Arden, her voice light as it redirected from Jacob’s apparent joy at his suffering. “Maybe you should go lay down. I don’t want you straining any of those injuries.”

Okay, he thought, and maybe the words came out of him but he couldn’t tell; he couldn’t tell anymore, but he did want to go lay down. Lay down, and close his eyes, and sleep until Elliot got back.

He’d never been happier at the prospect of seeing an ex-girlfriend.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

When they arrived at the boutique, Sylvia was standing outside, bouncing on the balls of her feet in what Elliot could only assume was an attempt to get warm. It was difficult, to focus on something as inane and arbitrary as dress shopping when she knew that Pratt was back in Hope County, dealing with God-knew-what the Seeds were throwing at him.

Well, the Seeds. And more. The Family, who were supposed to be dead, and—

I hear stress is bad for the baby. A familiar accent, wasn’t it?

“Well, are you just gonna sit in there all day or what?” her mother asked, having stepped out of the passenger side.

“Did you invite Sylvia?”

Scarlet sighed. “I thought it might be nice, for you.”

It was an unexpectedly sincere gesture on her mother’s part. She swallowed a thick emotion down, clearing her throat and managing out, “It—is, mama, thank you,” before she got out of the car and took the keys with her, heading towards the front doors of the main street store.

“Howdy, Freckles!” Sylvia greeted her warmly, throwing her arms around her in a tight hug. “Been a few. Wyatt’s still got your Jeep, he’s been runnin’ it a few minutes a day to make sure the battery doesn’t go bad.” She smiled brightly, turning to Elliot’s mother. “Mrs. Honeysett, you look mighty lovely.”

“Thank you, dear.”

Sylvia tugged the door to the boutique open, ushering them inside so that she could trail in after. The inside of the store was toasty warm, making Elliot regret having worn a scarf, but it was too late now—the coat and scarf combination were doing the work to keep her scar covered.

“I just love this place,” Scarlet sighed, shrugging out of her coat and hanging it on the rack by the door. “What do you think, Elliot? Maybe something blue. I’d put you in green, but with that red hair, you’d look like a Christmas ornament. Blue’s a nice winter color—very fashionable.”

“Sure, mama,” Elliot replied, brushing her fingers along the silk of one of the dresses. The last time she’d been in anything that blue and nice had been back in Hope County. At her “baptism”. The same one Burke had been dragged to, the same one that John had held her under for just a little too long for, maybe distracted by the Marshal’s arrival back then.

“Psst.” The sound of Via’s voice caught her attention, pulling her from the waking memory. The blonde had pulled what appeared to be the most atrocious Christmas gown that could have been looked at off of the rack, holding it up and lifting her eyebrows as Scarlet chatted enthusiastically with the store’s saleswoman.

“Stop it,” Elliot said, fighting back a smile. “You’re not serious.”

“Oh, dead serious, Freckles.”

“It has mistletoe on it, Via.”

“How else am I supposed to fetch a husband, if not by readily-accessible entrapment?”

Well, she thought a little dryly, that is how John got a wife.

It was odd, to think of the moment with anything less than hostility—to have come to a point where there were things more pressing than a marriage that, in the end, might not matter anyway. John had said that he knew the baby didn’t mean she’d take him back; had acknowledged there was no guarantee. For once, he’d shown up in her life with every intention laid bare for her to see.

Maybe not every intention. But she’d root them all out, eventually, and pretend like it hadn’t become something of a game, to catch John in a lie and watch him squirm.

She let the boutique’s owner show her around, clearly making quite a show for her mother, and politely turned down any suggestions for a deep v or off-the-shoulder type of garment. Sylvia had picked out a few; most blue, some blush, a few red, and then loaded some into Elliot’s arms.

“Try ‘em on!” she chirped. “Yes, even the green ones. Maybe your mama doesn’t want an Elliot Christmas ornament, but I do.”

Elliot heaved a sigh, though it was only half-sincere—anything delivered with Sylvia’s bright, cheery smile, she was hard-pressed to feel anything less than good about. Maybe that was dangerous, to be so comfortable with someone.

Or maybe, she thought, closing the dressing room door behind her, that’s just how having friends are. You remember what that was like.

She did. As she undressed and zipped the back of one of the red dresses Sylvia had selected—thoughtfully aware of the fact that she’d want most of her chest covered—she regarded herself in the mirror. There was that stranger again, flushed cheeks and bright eyes staring back at her. A familiar nose shape, a familiar slope of her cheekbones—but the rest of her. Where had she gone?

With one hand she pushed the door open, the other one lifting the back train of the dress as little as she walked out. A grimace had planted itself on her face, even despite Sylvia’s elaborate applause at her appearance.

“Oh, bunny, you look darling,” her mother sighed, having turned to take a look. “What’s the matter? You don’t like it?”

“Not big on the sparkles,” she admitted.

“I like them. You’ve always looked good in red, though. That fair complexion of your father’s.”

Sylvia grinned. “Try on a green one. I wanna imagine how you’ll look on my tree!”

Elliot stuck her tongue out at the blonde, turning around and scurrying back into the changing room. There were a few more dresses—even a green one—that were in the running, but eventually, she’d settled on a floor-length piece, dark blue velvet and halter-topped to get the most sternum coverage. When she’d redressed and rejoined the group outside, her mother was beaming as she gossiped with the boutique owner.

“Elliot’s quite modest,” her mother said conversationally, “and she’s already married, you know.”

“Thank you, mother,” Elliot sighed, a little smile fighting its way onto her face.

“Whatever are you still wearing your coat for? Your face is all red.”

“I’m—” She paused, swallowing. “Still cold.”

Her mother’s eyes narrowed. “Cold? It’s eighty degrees in here. And your face is all red.”

Sylvia had glanced up from across the store, neck-deep in dresses of a warmer shade. Elliot could feel the eyes on her—her friend, her mother, the boutique owner—and she cleared her throat and tugged absently at the tag on the dress.

“It’s fine,” she said after a minute.

“Well, at least take your scarf off.”

“I think it’s a lovely scarf,” the owner tried, a little helplessly.

“Mother, it’s—I’m fine—”

But her mother moved too quickly for her to realize what was happening; her mother’s hand unwound the scarf with expert ease, and then froze, her eyes fixed on what Elliot thought assuredly was the little of her WRATH scar, revealed.

Her stomach rolled. Heat flooded her body, worse than before—it was the kind of sticky-wet heat that came with the threat of throwing up, the kind that crept up the spine and gripped by the nape of the neck. Elliot felt her lashes flutter; she dropped the dress abruptly and yanked the scarf out of her mother’s hands to wind it securely around her neck again. The boutique owner had quickly turned to the clothing rack, as though something very emergent had occurred on the inanimate objects.

Stupid. She was so stupid. She should have just worn a sweater. She shouldn’t have looked at her scar that morning and thought, maybe it is something to love, she shouldn’t have ever risked the chance that her mother would see it, stupidstupidstupid—

“My God,” Scarlet said tightly, the tone of her voice washing Elliot with shame. “What did you do?”

I’m sorry, she wanted to say, automatically. Mama, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, I’m not good anymore, I’m not—

“Phew, I sure am dressed-out,” Sylvia announced, having come over. “I’ll have to go home and weigh my options. Ell, you wanna head outside for some air?”

“I think that’s best,” her mother replied curtly, before Elliot could even think to formulate a sentence. “I’ll finish up in here.”

She thought about trying to say something—trying to explain, maybe, what it was that had happened. But how could she? Her mother had suffered through the years she’d inflicted pain on herself, after daddy and after Mason, and she had told her mother she was better, now. Healed. Good. What could she say, to make it alright?

Because there was no world where she could say, I didn’t want it, and mean it.

Via’s hand fit snugly in hers, tugging her lightly out through the front door of the boutique onto the street. It wasn’t until she took in a lungful of cold, dry air that she realized she’d been holding her breath; her lungs ached, her head swimming, and she was gripping Via’s hand too tightly.

“Hey,” Sylvia said softly, “s’okay.”

It’s not, she thought miserably, it’s not okay, I’m not okay, I want to go—

Where? Where could she go?

I want—

Nowhere? Anywhere?

—to go—

“Home,” she managed out unsteadily, “I should go home—”

Sylvia gave her hand a squeeze. “You want I should give your mama a ride back to the house?”

“Yes.” She swallowed, sniffing. “Yes, please.”

“Okay, Freckles. Sure. You just—maybe you just take a little drive for yourself, collect your thoughts.” Via paused, and then leaned a little to catch Elliot’s eyes; though her vision blurred from the threat of tears, the blonde still smiled a little. “You gonna be okay all by yourself?”

It was a strange question to ask, but Elliot knew what she meant. Are you safe? Alone?

“Yeah,” Ell replied in a thick, watery mumble. “I am.”

“Okay. Can you give me a call when you get home?”

She nodded weakly. Via pulled her into a hug, tight and gentle all at once, enough to make the dam break; just for a little, just for a minute, the tears streaked down her cheeks and caught up in the fabric of the scarf where it wadded against her jaw.

My God, what did you do?

“I’m sorry,” she blurted out, pulling back and sucking in a sharp little breath. “Um, I’m really—s-sorry—”

But Via shook her head firmly and brushed some of the hair back from Elliot’s face, wet from her tears. “Don’t apologize. Go get a little breather.”

She fished the keys out of Elliot’s pocket for her, putting them in her hand and hesitating.

“Promise you’ll call,” she reiterated.

Elliot nodded. “I—I promise.”

“Okay. No take-backs.”

“No take-backs.”

Via gave her another hug before ushering her towards the car. As she climbed in and turned the key, her hands shaking, she thought about the way her mother had looked at the scar—with disgust. Horror. Shame. Via hadn’t looked at her like that, when she’d seen it. She’d seemed embarrassed, at having put Elliot in such a position; but not like that. She hadn’t looked horrified.

John didn’t look at it like that. He’d spent a lot of time last night, tracing the shape of the scar with his eyes, with his mouth, reverent and adoring. Makes you hungry, doesn’t it?

At least leaving would be that much easier.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

They came back separately.

When John heard the front door open, he’d been starting a pot of coffee in the kitchen. He poked his head around the archway to look out in the foyer, only to find Scarlet standing there, furiously unbuttoning her coat and dropping her gloves into the drawer. Two dress bags hung on the coat rack.

“Ell outside?” he asked casually, coming around.

“Certainly not,” Scarlet replied tartly. “She’s—”

And then the woman let out a sigh, closing her eyes for a moment—for the first time, Scarlet Honeysett looked to be composing herself, which he thought she was nearly incapable of losing sight of. It seemed even the impenetrable armor of the Honeysett matriarch had its own weaknesses after all.

His tiny little thrill at the sight of Scarlet looking troubled was short-lived, however, because she said, “My daughter walked into the boutique sporting this—wretched scar—”

Oh, he thought, suddenly.

“—never been so humiliated in my whole life—”

Oh, no, because he knew exactly what she was talking about and Elliot would be—

“—have no doubt, Mr. Seed,” Scarlet bit out viciously, “that scar is new and you have certainly not influenced her away from such activities.”

He needed to find Elliot. She would be distraught; why hadn’t she come home with her mother? And why wasn’t Scarlet more pressed concerning her daughter’s well-being?

“And where is she?” John asked, ignoring the stinging anger bubbling in his chest. Wretched scar, she’d said. Like it wasn’t beautiful. Like it wasn’t gorgeous. Like he hadn’t spent a whole night looking at it, running his hands and mouth over it, knowing that Elliot had looked at him and wanted it and trusted him and if there was something more devoted, it was carrying someone’s child. “Elliot? Where is she?”

“Taking a moment to regain her senses,” the blonde replied sharply. “She has vowed to be home soon. Mr. Seed—”

He had gone to reach for his coat, pausing at her words and looking at her expectantly.

Scarlet twisted the gloves in her hands for a moment, her brows pulling together.

“I just think,” she finally said, “that as her husband, you are responsible for her as much as I am. You have to be taking care of her when I’m not around.”

“I do,” he replied.

“Evidence says contrary,” Scarlet snapped. “She has come back to me with more—damage—”

The sound of a car pulling up outside snapped John’s attention elsewhere. He knew that if he stayed much longer in the conversation, they would be leaving sooner than what they had planned, if only because Scarlet wouldn’t tolerate him in the house for the things that he wanted to say to her. Damage, he wanted to say, that is only as bad as it is because it’s compounding on your incessant need to brush aside her problems like they’re nothing, like she didn’t need help then.

“Excuse me,” he muttered, pulling his coat on and opening the door. The rush of cold air bit at his face and hands; Boomer came rushing out around his legs, springing down the steps and hurrying to the driver’s side of the Honda. John was only vaguely aware of the door closing behind him—and it didn’t matter, anyway.

She didn’t open the door when Boomer got there, scrabbling at it for her eagerly. She kept her hands on the top of the steering wheel and pressed her forehead into it, the engine ticking as it cooled. When John got there, he reached for the door handle to tug it open. Elliot hit the lock button.

“Ell,” John said, “open the door.”

She lifted her head tiredly from the steering wheel. Where her hand sat over the lock button, her fingers trembled a little, and her face was flushed—not with health, but with the sickly red of feverish, panicked crying.

“Baby,” he tried again, a little more urgently, putting his hand on the glass of the window, “Boomer wants to see you.”

Elliot’s eyes were fixed on his jacket. “Would you—” She stopped, her voice muffled by the glass, and then she took a deep breath and said, “Would you even be here if I wasn’t pregnant?”

“What?” John blinked at her.

“If I didn’t have the baby,” she tried again, her voice thick and watery with unshed tears, that pouty lower lip trembling, “would you have even come for me?”

He stared at her. It had never occurred to him, that there might be a world in her head where he didn’t come for her, where he didn’t find her, where he didn’t try and bring her back.

“Of course I would,” John said, drawing her eyes to him. “I love you, Elliot.” And then, more urgently: “I love you, with or without the baby.”

She looked away from him, then, staring out the other side of the window, fingers curling uselessly against the steering wheel even as the keys lay in the passenger seat—like she wanted to run. Like she wanted to floor it, and go somewhere, anywhere.

“Open the door, Ell.” He swallowed thickly. “Won’t you?”

The door lock clicked. He tugged at the handle and it opened with ease, Boomer instantly shoving his face into Elliot’s side and whining, tail wagging so furiously his whole body moved with it. John pushed the door open the rest of the way and reached for her, and her hand caught his wrist and pulled, and she buried her face into his chest and trembled like a leaf in a breeze.

“I’m so tired,” she moaned miserably into his chest, hiccupping with grief, “I want to go home.”

John wrapped his arms around her, one hand cradling the back of her head and keeping her tugged close.

“I know,” he said. “We’ll go. We will, I promise, Ell, okay?”

“Please—” The redhead pulled back to look at him. “I can’t—you can’t—lie to me, anymore—”

“I know,” John said again, a little helplessly, brushing his thumb across her cheekbone. She was clutching him so tightly he was sure her nails would leave marks on his skin, even through the fabric of his clothes.

“I won’t.”

#far cry 5 fic #fc5 fic #ch: elliot honeysett #ch: john seed #john seed/female deputy #fic: witching hour #john seed x female deputy #my writing #otp: death keep off; i am your enemy #this chapter is about as long as the last one but also feels so much: bigger #thank u to everyone who reached out to me for the last two chapters it literally !!!!!#makes my whole fucking day #when i get feedback or even just to chat with some of y'all #*smooches u*

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