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alluringjae · 3 years

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until dawn - ljn

part I | part II

⤑ summary: basic number one rule of the museum is not to touch the art. but no one told jeno that falling for one of them isn’t allowed either.

⤑ pairing: jeno x female reader

⤑ word count: 14k

⤑ genre: fluff, humor, angst | broke architecture major!jeno, historical figure!reader, college!au

⤑ warnings: jaemin mentions onlyfans as a joke, references to actual historical figures (some try to flirt with jeno lol) and literature, explicit language

⤑ author’s note: wow, i’ve had this idea for almost two years! this one was inspired by one of my favorite childhood movies, night at the museum. it definitely required a lot of research and brainstorming, and finally i brought it to life! it was so fun to play around with the characters, and even if majority of them are real people, this is all still fiction.

i also wanna mention one of my moots, marge for enlightening me about her life as an architecture major.

⤑ taglist: @renjunniehome (dm me if you want to be added)

⤑ leave me some feedback, constructive criticism or hellos!

Dormitory rent was another thing to worry about aside from the inflated university tuition per semester. Although he’s lucky to have his parents backing him up already on it, paying the monthly rent for his dorm was the remaining objective on Jeno’s list.

Plus, money for food. The man was a heavy eater, following the whole “gym is life” mantra.

Splitting it already with two of his dorm mates turned best friends, Renjun and Jaemin, his plate felt lighter. But the question still lies: where on earth was he going to get the money?

He’s practically checked out every available part-timing job in university and anywhere near campus. Barista at the same café Jaemin works at, teaching assistant for an art school for kids, convenience store cashier, library assistant, all taken in a heartbeat. The burden of his friends paying his debt these past months took a toll on him, almost to the point he almost considered making an Onlyfans.

“Yah, just find something else! Part-timers are in demand right now!” Renjun intensely closed his laptop before his older friend gets any suggestive thoughts.

“I mean, you didn’t work out your body to look the way it is for nothing.” Jaemin pitched otherwise, lifting the front back up. “When do you want to start filming? Loads of chicks would dig a piece of you!”

The contradicting opinions of his friends were like the devil and angel debating on his shoulders. Useless, he gave this worry a rest and returned to drawing new plates. A common thing when you’re an architecture major. Those deadlines were nearing. Looks like he’ll pull another all-nighter again.

Good thing most of his classes were late in the morning until 6 pm.

As if someone from above heard his petition, Jeno saw a help wanted sign posted on the bulletin board outside of the university museum. He initially went there to document some artwork and architecture models from Greek and Roman times, further analyzing how they’re still apparent in modern buildings.

The sign explained the need for one part-timer from any college to cover the night shift of the museum due to the current night guard’s full semester absence. He only had to come in 3x a week, choosing his days since he was still a student. Even the pay was above average, considering that most part-timers never go beyond midnight. Jeno would, on the other hand, always staying for his projects or gaming with the boys. Drinking sometimes during late-night Fridays with his entire college crew.

The pay would leave him a load of extra cash for himself, thus he sent an application to the museum office right before he left. A week later, while he was out with the boys, he got a text from the office that they wanted to meet him again for a final interview first thing on Monday.

Perhaps it was having architecture as his course and a healthy physique that landed him the part-timer position. Mainly, the latter because guards required strong endurance and fighting skills when worse comes to worst. It would start at 9 pm until 6 am the following day, and there was a designated uniform of it too. Blue blazer with matching trousers, white dress top, and loafers.

Aside from the typical museum etiquette the head director instructed him about, there was an unofficial list of tips written on paper given from the night guard on leave when the director handed you over his box of office-related things.

Only read at the night guard office once you’re the remaining staff left.

He did as he was told like an obedient son, flipping the succeeding page.

To my temporary replacement,

This part-timing job is nothing regular than the other jobs. You’ll witness things as you’ve never imagined them to be, almost like witchcraft. You’ll be lost and maybe frightened, or that’s how I felt the first time because no one led me through it all those years ago. Lucky for you, I made this small guide on how to properly take care of the place that the other staff doesn’t know about.

Before you proceed, I request you take a 5-minute stroll around the lobby first to understand what I’m talking about. After such, go back to the office or somewhere quiet then browse through the guide as quickly as you could.

Art is timeless here, so they need to be taken care of.

Good luck!

Park Sanghoon

Night Guard on Leave

Nothing could’ve prepared Jeno for what’s to come once he unlocked the office door. They say that art brings so much color to our life, allowing us to feel all sorts of emotions in a glimpse. But no one ever interpreted art to be literally alive and walking in the halls.

Behold, random wax figures and marble sculptures that he’s seen in the past roamed the hallways, as well as the paintings were interacting with each other side by side. Even the standee of a puppy from the entrance played fetch with one of those sculptures. He swore he looked like Hermes the messenger god from his arrow headpiece and sandals.

It made more sense why the guard on leave explained his feelings during the first day because it resembled Jeno’s. But unlike that guard, Jeno sucked it up. No one ever does well on the first day, even if others say otherwise. The first day was a learning experience, so he collected his thoughts even though the goosebumps triggered his body during that one rotation.

There was an indoor garden, already locked by the day guard earlier. The only room without any art piece, where students lounge to study the plants or relax in nature.

The sculptures section ahead, showcasing various fictional figures specifically from Greek mythology, chattered away about family drama and beliefs. The sculptures of Hades and Zeus, according to their title plate, argued relentlessly about power while Athena always intervened by shouting or even throwing arrows or daggers to any of the lightbulbs there.

That was one rule in the guide, but Jeno didn’t know yet until he came inside the room and swerved the attention of the arguing duo.

“Well, what do we have here?” Zeus, in the center, straightened his posture on his throne to present himself in a more regal way. “Are you perhaps the temporary replacement of Sir Sanghoon?”

“Sir Sanghoon’s stand-in is rather good looking, don’t you think?” Hera mused, stepping down from her throne beside Zeus to take a closer look at the taller male. Her cold fingers trailed his jaw until his chest, where his heart was beating intensely. She even pinched his toned bicep, mouthing wow.

“Truly handsome you are, my dear. So full of life, please introduce yourself to us.”

While Jeno introduced himself to everyone in that room, he answered any sorts of questions they had for him too. From his age, educational background, hobbies, Aphrodite just had to ask him if he had a girlfriend because he was that handsome.

“Nope, I’m single. With my degree in architecture, the requirements are so heavy I can’t even try dating.”

Mentioning his degree excited the gods, telling him how their people created and designed all these temples to house them and perform rituals. They loved it so much. This was a copy-paste of what Jeno learned from his history classes, and for a first, he’s hearing the perspective of the Greek gods.

Mind-boggling that he hasn’t fully freaked out yet. That’s what Athena anticipated when Sanghoon told her about his short leave, putting her in charge of everyone for the meantime while the replacement settled down.

The college museum was built during the late 70s as a gift from one of the alumni. It was for the purpose to preserve history and educate college students outside the classroom. The Greek mythology exhibit was the oldest one, making Athena have more seniority. Over her stay, she’s seen every new guard lose their senses during the first night. Some not even returning for a second night. She got used to every outcome, and so far, only 8 people lasted after the first night. A couple of students in the 70s and 80s, Sanghoon in the 90s, and now Jeno was one of them.

“Jeno, aren’t you terrified by us? You just got a job in a museum that comes to life every night, and it’s not a normal thing.”

“Well, I’m still shaken up about it. But it’s my first night, and it’s when I learn everything about the place from head to toe. Plus, I really need the money.”

“Money for what? But you’re young, a student even!”

“Yes, I am. However, I do pay for the rent in my dorm. So, this job is like my first big responsibility, and I want to perform well.”

Athena commended his sense of authority, capable of leading himself. She noticed how well-spoken and poised he is, respecting and listening to everything the gods and goddesses said even if they were nonsense. She never liked to compromise with her power, taking a while to like Sanghoon back in the day. Though Jeno looked like a natural leader on his first night. If he could take care of himself well, he’s skilled to take care of the rest in the museum as well.

Plus she had full control on the nights he won’t be there, especially the weekend.

With his potential, Athena mentored him the entire night about the gist of the entire museum. Every upcoming leader needs an intelligent mentor, right? She was naturally gifted with worthy leadership skills, managing Jeno like her own child.

Athena explained how the museum came to life, which was through a royal golden plate from the Oriental room. It was a gift from a popular sorceress in China to an affluent family from the Han dynasty, who wished them a long life after she was saved from invaders due to them. The plate preserved over time, becoming an artifact. Its power remained immortal, mutating to bring life wherever it goes. In this case, the museum since its arrival in the late 70s as well.

“That’s why the Oriental room must be locked always so no one could touch or break the plate.”

After she ordered Jeno to lock the mentioned room, alongside the Foreign Art Exhibit Room which he checked out for his class, she led him to the best view of the entire museum. Center of the second floor, where stairs were on both sides. Jeno marveled at the vivacious atmosphere, witnessing actual art living, breathing, and enjoying themselves.

“Unreal, right?” She leaned in the railing, scanning through the chatty paintings.

Jeno also leaned down, deep in thought and wonder. “Absolutely, Athena. How come no one knows about this? Art coming to life? It’ll invite more students to the museum.”

“That goes against a golden rule as a night guard in this museum.” She replied bluntly. “The life that goes on inside this museum at night must remain a secret to the public.”

Jeno predicted this kind of response, having watched too many films where anything supernatural mustn’t be revealed. Although he liked the advantage of knowing something this powerful, he’d never abuse it.

Athena’s intellect was beyond the world, seamlessly reading Jeno’s expression and what he was thinking. He had good intentions even if he’s a bit mischievous. She needed to keep a keen eye on him, but for now, he needed to explore on his own.

“Anyways, Sanghoon still left out some other details. So if you have any questions, I’ll be at my exhibit trying to shut my father and my uncle up again.”

“Can you not use any weapons to do so?”

“Can’t make any promises, Jeno.” She slyly cracked her knuckles and neck as if she was fighting another battle.

Jeno was silently left with himself, finally browsing through Sanghoon’s guide while seated in one of the museum benches.

It consisted of 25 rules, wherein the first two rules consisted of locking up. One, for the doors and gates of the museum, so no art piece could escape. If they do, they will turn into dust when the sun is out according to Athena. Two, locking the Oriental and Foreign Art Rooms, which was already done.

Rule #5: Let Mochi the puppy from the lobby tag along with you; feed him treats if you have any.

On cue, the little guy barked from the corridor and raced to his side. Jeno carried him, babying him for a little and letting him lick his face a few times before putting him back down. He’s surely going to the pet store first thing in the morning with the museum allowance the director gave him.

Since he was on the second floor, he read and followed the rules that fit in before returning downstairs. On the other side of the floor were the wax figures exhibitions: one for prominent men in history while the other for prominent women. Well, more people to get acquainted with.

It’s the exchange of gasps and profanities he received when he chose the latter room. Seeing their faces, these were women he’s learned in school and online. Now in the (fake) flesh. Except for one girl he’s never heard of, unbothered in her corner sketching her life away in a sketchpad. But before he could check who she was, a suggestive touch on his arm distracted him.

“My, oh my, Hera wasn’t lying when she said that the new night guard was a fine specimen.” By her dark blue eyeshadow and eyeliner with the snake-like crown, Cleopatra studied him like he was one of the most renowned art pieces. Even patting his chest, abdomen, and arms with both her hand, Jeno caught a suggestive glint in her eyes and a smirk across her red lips.

Rule #13: Reject Cleopatra’s seductive advances at all costs.

“Goodness, Cleopatra. It’s only his first night, and you’re scaring him.” With her accent, round eyes, and a chic formal outfit, she carried a posh aura while unhesitatingly scolding the Queen of the Nile.

“Come on now, Diana. He’s stunning, who wouldn’t go after him?” If no one knew her, you’re not reading up on your world history. She’s said to have been a lovely and intelligent woman, gone so soon. Jeno definitely understood why after she detached Cleopatra’s raging hands off him.

Rule #14: Treat Princess Diana and Hera like your own parent.

“Your highness.” Jeno nodded at her out of respect, only making her chuckle uncontrollably.

“No need to address me like that, love. Now, come here.” She widened her arms for Jeno, hugging him amiably. He sensed her motherly warmth, accepting such a gesture. “You remind me so much of my youngest son, Harry. Welcome to the night shift of the museum, love.”

Similar to the Greek mythology exhibit, he introduced himself and responded to any questions that the women wax figures may have. Good for him, they weren’t crossing any borders and kept him at ease.

“A student like you working at night to pay rent?” Katherine Johnson, an African-American NASA mathematician whose calculations led to the success of a lot of famous spaceflights, cannot believe her ears. Students must only focus on school, nothing else. “What about your studies, boy?”

Rule #15: Engage in academic discussions with Katherine Johnson whenever you can.

“Most of my classes are in the afternoon, Miss Katherine. So I’ll sleep in the entire morning later and study during my breaks.”

“Mr. Jeno, what do you like to do outside of work?” Anne Frank, a German-Dutch teenager whose revolutionary diary that documented her life in hiding from the Nazis gained popularity worldwide after publication dreamily asked from her section of the exhibit. Her life was robbed of greatness merely because of her religion and war.

Rule #16: Bring delicious food or gifts to Anne Frank.

“Well, I like to bike with my friends, exercise, and draw whatever comes into mind!”

Everyone he’s met so far acquired pleasure in knowing about who he was and his passion for architecture, ridding the “freaking out” phase Athena assumed he had. Yet not everyone in this exhibit bothered to give him a shot.

Jeno’s attention from Anne talking about her crush towards Peter van Daan, a teenage boy who lived with her, switched to the section beside her, where an unacquainted figure was zealously sketching as if something was due to the following day. It reflected how he’d look when he’s cramming one of his plates due to first thing in the morning. While he properly excused himself, he quietly gazed at the way this woman scrunched her eyebrows when she erased something then drew it again. She was someone he’s never seen or heard before, reading the information plate in front of him about her.

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), Explorer and Author. (1854-1900)

Wealthy women in the Victorian Era only served one purpose in society: marry a man from a prestigious family, have his children and join whatever interests they have. However, for (Y/N), she wasn’t going to conform to those standards.

Born into the affluent house of (Y/L/N), she was the youngest of 8 children. She was said to be the kindest and sweetest sibling out of everyone, not capable of hurting anyone or anything. She said it herself that she can’t throw away a dying flower because it’s too painful. While 5 of her older brothers were sent to school, she stayed at home with her 2 older sisters Cecilia and Amelia where she learned how to play the piano and take voice lessons from impressive teachers. Due to the huge age gaps between them (12 and 8 respectively), she never felt close with them. She was only closest to the 6th and 7th siblings, her twin brothers Benjamin and Liam whom she only had a 2-year gap. She was also best friends with one of the scullery maids her age, Lily, because she found her amusing that than the boring rich girls her mother forced to interact with.

The moment it bothered her that she wanted to live a more meaningful life was when Amelia got married. She was 12 years old at the time, and it left her as the last unwed daughter in the family. Badly did she want to revolt, which she gradually did. Instead of practicing piano, she’d sneak in to read every book in her father’s office. She secretly studied the notes of her older brothers from school and even dressed as a boy numerously thanks to Benjamin and Liam to join their classes or field trips.

This was her routine up until the age of 18 when she stomped her foot down and expressed to her parents that she wasn’t going to let Victorian society dictate her. The night before her parents were bound to send her to her great aunt’s home down South to sort her out, she successfully snuck out her house thanks to Lily, Benjamin, and Liam. It’s another good thing that she saved a lot of money for that moment.

Off she went across Europe first, then sailed to America and even parts of Asia. Initially under the name Lilibe, coined from picking the first two letters of her brothers and best friend, she documented her days and nights through her journals and sketches. Over time, she sent them to her brothers for publication. It started the franchise, “The Adventures of the Young and Free Lilibe”. There are 10 books under it.

She learned French, Spanish, Mandarin, Japanese, and Korean by herself as she made friends from those places. It was rare of someone like her to be fluent in Oriental languages, surprising locals every time she spoke to them. She was the only explorer to vividly describe life in different Asian lands in English, talking about their history and culture. With her accurate drawings of diverse citizens and their daily lives, it educated a lot of those living back home in Europe about them rather than speaking lowly of them.

In Seoul did she stayed the longest until her death from pneumonia at the young age of 46.

In her posthumous work, Finding Me, did she reveal her real identity, dedicating it to her parents whom she apologized and expressed her love for them despite everything that occurred between them. She talked about the last years of her life in Seoul, how locals were so nice and inviting to her, and how she adopted kids instead of having her own through the years.

“It’s not because I never found love in men. It’s more like I found love in doing things I’m passionate about. Traveling, learning new cultures, it outweighed the human need of romance.”

Due to her thrill in taking risks and embarking on wondrous adventures, it brought inspiration to a lot of young girls pressured to marry at that time to pursue what they really want.

A remarkable background you had, Jeno contemplated. How come no one discussed her in his classes?

You kept brushing the bangs of your hair back as it fell repeatedly. But you got irritated instantly because it sabotaged your drive, you brought out a hairpin from her desk and attached it on both sides. But when you shifted your angle of focus, the corner of your eye locked with Jeno’s attentive gaze.

He didn’t flinch, even he should’ve. He wasn’t one to linger his look on anyone’s physical appearances, but your story and the passion on your face as you sketched mesmerized him. He was charmed, to say the least.

“Uhm, hello there?” You broke the silence due to your uneasiness about it. What’s his deal?

Jeno bowed, reintroducing himself to you. As soon as his presence settled in the room when Cleopatra attempted to hit on him, you could’ve cared less. Though this man was a first for you, a first in a long time as all guards would feel intimidated by you during the first night. Even your sharp tongue didn’t faze him. “Staring is rude, sir. Didn’t your mother teach you manners?”

“She did,” He wandered through the exterior of your section, by the fence that separated you and him. Not breaking eye contact, his eyes turned into moon crescents as he smirked with trouble. “Though she also told me to appreciate the art too.”

Snorts noisily exhaled from Cleopatra, who took the center section of the exhibit, succeeded by Princess Diana’s whispered gasps and Katherine’s side-eyeing Anne beside her while she taught her math. That was an odd way a guard conversed with you, but Jeno was merely doing what the rules stated. Partly, he was impressed with his cheesy pick-up line, partly embarrassed because he’s never spoken like this to anyone.

Rule #17: Act playfully around (Y/N) (Y/L/N) to break the tension; she’s a harsh one.

There was irony between the information he read about your life versus the wax model. Even when you faced sexism and ran away according to your history, never were you impolite to anyone in your life. You couldn’t even kill a lurking fly when it roams around your food! It showed Jeno a possibility that as much as you’re just a wax version of someone famous in the past, maybe the external environment around you had a heavy influence too.

“You fool!” His confidence exasperated you, urging you to persistently throw balls of paper with your failed sketches at him. No one dared to talk to you like that, most especially a night guard. “Take that for your comment!”

If you thought he’d scram away and act repentant, you were proven wrong. His reflexes were parallel to a spider, capturing every single paper ball without fail. Up and down his body went, one arm held on to them and no more were left on your part. Never a single defeat during the first meeting in years, but that seemed to alter now.

“Give up already, Ms. (Y/L/N)?” Jeno remarked vibrantly as he discarded your mess in the trash bin behind him. If he managed to get everyone to like him tonight, he wanted to make sure to have you onboard too.

Whatever agenda he had, you weren’t up for it. You’d treat him the same way you usually treated Sanghoon for the past 20 something years: cold and ignorant. From your stool, you left your comfortable position to come face to face with this man. He better be grateful for that barrier in between you, or else you would’ve caused mayhem.

“Never in your wildest dreams, Mr. Lee.” Your mouth gave a half-smile, clenching on the bars to liberate your annoyance. Before you could fend back, that’s when Princess Diana intervened between your heated dialogue.

“Oh heavens, children!” She stood by the barrier, mostly to protect the newbie Jeno with her body. “(Y/N), he just wanted to know you. Must you be so cross?”

This Princess Diana embodied all the traits the real one had: soft-spoken, intelligent, and protective. She’s gotten so used to your gradual temper, staying on standby whenever anyone tried to mess with you. Even if it was harmless, you could get so mean!

“Diana, he was mocking me! Saying such a sleazy phrase as if to amuse me, ha! Not a chance, I hate people like that.”

“Not us women though; you just despise men in general.”

“And you’re absolutely right!” With a smug smile, you greedily rejoiced. “Anyways, escort this disgrace out. I’m not in the mood to get angry when I have a lot of inspiration on mind right now.”

While you resumed your sketching to let go of that extra steam, Jeno was left with Diana who apologized on your behalf. Your pride was too high to do that, and as the motherly figure among them, she always took care of things in your exhibit.

“I’m so sorry for that, Jeno. She’s not really like this, but I know how much you tried your best. It was quite a fresh spectacle honestly.”

Whatever was responsible for your abrasiveness, Jeno yearned to know. He couldn’t understand who you were yet even knowing your life story. All he wanted was to get along with everyone. It was the key to successfully maintain his job for the next 6 months.

“How can I make her come around then?”

A demanding question that no one had a solid answer to. Diana recalled how much Sanghoon didn’t let your dislike for him get to him, maintaining a respectful boundary in between each other after his past attempts. Though with Jeno, observing how he riled you up and your focus entirely on him, she hasn’t seen anything like it since the 80s.

There was something in Jeno that may just get you to warm up and return to your kind nature.

“Aside from acting playful, as Sanghoon recommended, I can think of two ways, love.” By the doors of her exhibit, where Jeno was already waltzing the corridor to visit other rooms, she suggested smartly. “One, argue back to her opinions. She hates whenever anyone tries to get her way, but boy, you’re just as wise as her. No one was brave enough to peeve on her until you came.”

“How about the second way?”

“Do your research, love. Aside from libraries, you have those small technology devices that allow you to search up anything.” She tousled Jeno’s brown locks as if it were her actual son’s. Some habits just don’t die when you do.

“Brush up on your history, Jeno. Not only will it help you with (Y/N), but it’ll serve purposefully with the other art pieces here.”

Boy, he was ready to crash in his bed for a few hours after all those interactions. His introverted nature required to be revitalized.

Towards the last hours of his shift, the art pieces who’ve strolled in the first floor lessened his plate by not leaving any major clutter behind. As if she listened to him, Athena didn’t break any lightbulbs too.

His main highlight would be meeting the men of the historical male section, who flaunted a more humorous ambiance. Freddie Mercury from Queen insisted he drink a glass of his wine and to bring more wine next time, which he denied since it would against Sanghoon’s rules. King Sejong the Great and Martin Luther King Jr. argued back and forth over the most random things (pineapple on pizza specifically), while Steve Jobs mediated whenever one crossed the line. Meanwhile, William Shakespeare was too preoccupied in his writing and speaking to himself about his books, wondering how to improve them.

During one of his breaks today, he multitasked drawing a new plate with his research on every art piece to know them better. He started with the exhibit of sculptures of the Greek gods and goddesses, which were Zeus, Hera, Hades, Athena, Hermes, Aphrodite, Poseidon, Artemis, Dionysus, and Circe. They weren’t the complete roster because the rest were in other museums across the globe, as said by Athena before sunrise. The majority of them he knew what they were in charge of, but the rest were foggy to his knowledge. Typing away and jotting notes down, he started downloading his favorite jazz songs too.

Rule # 4: Play jazz music to the paintings on the first floor so they can relax and dance within their frames.

Circe is a minor goddess, the daughter of the sun god Helios. She’s recognized for her versatility in incantations and herbs, capable of transforming people into animals. From Jeno’s perspective, she’s mostly within her space with her journals and magic wand, trying new spells or combinations of herbs. For the latter, he had to keep a closer eye on.

Rule #9: Don’t let Circe, god of potions, into the Oriental Room to get plants and herbs.

He discovered that Dionysus is the god of wine, happiness, and theatre. That’s why every god in the exhibit had full wine glasses during their gathering. It also added up why Freddie Mercury always comes to him when his bottles run empty, though he mustn’t go overboard.

Rule #18: Make sure Freddie Mercury doesn’t get too drunk from the wine of Dionysus; he might make numerous scenes if he does.

After his lone studying session, he took a short trip to the pet and convenience stores to buy food. He got a dumbfounded look from Jaemin back in the dorm room, who was studying for one of his quizzes in Biology in a couple of hours.

“Woah what’s with this stash? Is it for yourself or something?”

“The museum surprisingly has a lot of tasks needed to be done at night. And no, not from my wallet but the allowance they gave me before you get a heart attack.” Jeno plopped on his solo bed, covering his face with a pillow.

“Thank God.” A relaxed sigh escaped Jaemin’s lips, taking back his balled-up fists meant for his roommate. “I think I would’ve stormed that boring museum if they made your broke ass spend a cent.”

“Boring?” Jeno removed the cushion hastily, eyeing his busy and coffee-high roommate. The scent of black coffee from his mug spread in the room, assuming that this upcoming test was testing his roommate’s patience again.

Not even trying to look at Jeno while reviewing his handwritten notes, Jaemin continued giving his opinion. “Museum culture is dead, Jeno. Not everyone has the time to roam around one, plus people can always look up the artifacts online these days.”

People were entitled to their own opinions on numerous things, though Jeno begged to differ with his roommate’s. Especially after witnessing the magic of the night shift, you shouldn’t merely judge a book by its cover. In this case, you shouldn’t judge an artwork or art piece merely on its history and legacy.

Maybe because his roommate was in the science department, he thought this way. A lot of art students regularly visit the museum both for fun and for their classes, and Jeno was one of them. Though he was too sleepy to explain his side, he let it slide for now and snoozed throughout the late afternoon.

An hour before the start of his shift, Jeno promenaded the emptying museum to inspect anything else he might’ve missed out on from last night. There were two areas according to his rotation, both in the first floor.

One was the Diorama Room. Divided into 4 sections, highlighting some of the well-known ancient civilizations in world history. Ancient Egypt and Ancient China to your left, Ancient Rome and Ancient Maya to your right. They acted as if they were the actual people during those times, giving Jeno a laugh when they cracked jokes in between. Such tiny figures, yet the rule for them said otherwise.

Rule # 7: The small figurines in the Diorama Room are feisty, so make sure they don’t fight with one another again.

The remaining room left was the Theater Room. He’s never been here, though his art friends have for film festivals held by the university.

The interior of it was set to look like an actual cinema place you’d see in a mall. There was a mini lobby with a few posters of iconic films over the years. Singin’ in the Rain, Back to the Future, Titanic, those were some framed and hung on the wall. There were two other doors there: one leading to the chairs and the other where the movie projector was. The latter room was pretty riveting, wherein you can choose to watch old short films through an 88mm film projector or switch to a cd player for the newer releases.

Back to those posters, they weren’t an exception to the magic and a simple rule was left for Jeno to do.

Rule # 10: Chatter with the movie posters in the lobby of the Theater Room; they love meeting new faces.

Since there wasn’t anyone checking out the Art Rooms on the second floor, he closed them. Though as he was about to lock the Oriental Room, the ravishing plants around the royal plant appealed his interest. Said to hold magical properties from his research, Jeno was reminded of another rule to keep in mind for later.

Rule # 3: The fake flowers in the Oriental Room come to life too at night, so when no one is lurking, water it diligently.

Instead of lounging at Sanghoon’s office first, he brought his important items to the front desk of the lobby and continued sketching his plate. He wanted to watch the art come back alive with his two eyes. Usually, he’d have coffee when he does his work, but due to another crucial rule in the guide, he’d rather not take the risk.

Rule # 6: The lobby room can get rowdy, so keep any drinks away from important items.

On the dot, the cries and yawns from the art pieces around him reverberated. Closing his sketchpad, his night guard mode was on. Connecting his laptop on the aux cord of the museum speakers, he tapped play on his playlist of jazz music that’ll last for the entire shift duration. As the first notes flooded the entire vicinity, sounds of joy left the lips of each painting. Some were humming, dancing, and even singing along.

“You can never go wrong with Frank Sinatra!”

“This Jeno lad really did the heavens’ work quick!”

Having the sense of accomplishment on his sleeve, the small barks of his fluffy pal reached closer to him. As he kneeled to find him, he was only taken by surprise as Mochi excitedly jumped on him. Tumbling over, Jeno chuckled innocently as Mochi licked his face numerously. This puppy was friendly, easily liking everyone at first sight. He wasn’t as choosy like Daegal, the puppy of his friend Chenle studying Business Management.

Once he composed himself and cradling the dog like his own, he fed him a dog treat from the desk.

“Good boy, Mochi!” He rubbed his fur while the puppy happily munched on it, ready to fulfill more of his duties.

He skipped the Greek mythology exhibit since Athena was doing a good job not letting anyone go overboard with their powers, though he’ll check in again in a few hours. He met the posters of the theater room, who were celebrities he grew up watching on tv. Sanghoon was right; they were the kinder group in the entire museum because they were more laidback.

On to the second floor, all the female wax figures lounged by the male section due to another lecture from Shakespeare. Although the guide informed him that most of the time it could get boring, this lecture was more stimulating. On his platform, he elaborated with conviction the lines of one of his famous books, Romeo and Juliet. A must-read book back in his high school days, there’s no way Jeno could’ve missed that out.

From the looks of it, Jeno perceived that Shakespeare was performing spoken word poetry due to him reading only Romeo’s lines while Cleopatra read Juliet’s beside him. This kind of show was one of the sources of entertainment to these figures, so Jeno leaned by the side of the door to listen. After all, the famous author of it was a few feet away. Cleopatra channeled such a naïve character to her ability, absentmindedly saying as she clutched her chest.

“O Romeo, Romeo! wherefore art thou Romeo? Deny thy father and refuse thy name; Or, if thou wilt not, be but sworn my love, And I'll no longer be a Capulet.”

“Shall I hear more, or shall I speak at this?”

“'Tis but thy name that is my enemy; Thou art thyself, though not a Montague. What's Montague? it is nor hand, nor foot, nor arm, nor face, nor any other part belonging to a man. O, be some other name! What's in a name? That which we call a rose-”

The flow of an engaged Cleopatra was abrupted by the loud yell from Shakespeare in front, specifically to an amused Jeno. “Jeno, my boy! Welcome back!”

Such an announcement diverted everyone’s attention to the back, some running to Jeno to give their respective greetings. It’s rare for everyone to feel at ease with a new guard, taking them weeks to approach them due to the intimidation. Though Jeno’s bright presence felt welcoming, so they accepted it. Perhaps it’s because of his youth, it reminded them of theirs too.

Shakespeare highly requested (or forced) Jeno to take his part as Romeo, intrigued to watch someone younger read his lines. Since most of the male wax figures were aged, it never satisfied Shakespeare so he jumped on this opportunity as quickly as he could. With the roaring cheers from the other figures, Jeno might as well give it a try. It wasn’t like his friends were here to clown him like they usually would if he did something humiliating.

Jeno shockingly liked this activity as he wasn’t much of a performer on stage, but someone who does the behind-the-scenes of it. He realized as he read the lines from the book Shakespeare asked him to follow along with why people held university-wide spoken word shows a few times per semester. He was no actor, but it’s delightful to have tried it at least once in his life.

“O, wilt thou leave me so unsatisfied?” As if the edge of the platform was the balcony of Juliet (or Cleopatra rather), he knelt as he ardently spoke his lines. He’s emphasizing this rush of uncontrollable desire for her, rambling whatever he would do to get the girl.

“What satisfaction canst thou have tonight?” Cleopatra questioned from her chair, inching closer to the young boy. Even outside character will she attempt to charm Jeno, but Jeno was quick to catch it and kept his distance.

“The exchange of thy love's faithful vow for mine.”

“I gave thee mine before thou didst request it, and yet I would it were to give again.”

“Wouldst thou withdraw it? For what purpose, love?”

“But to be frank, and give it thee again. And yet I wish but for the thing I have. My bounty is as boundless as the sea, my love as deep. The more I give to thee, the more I have, for both are infinite.”

Everyone was condensed by their top-notch acting, as if this was the actual play unfolding before them. Jeno wasn’t so sure how he got himself in character without preparation, yet he felt what his character felt. He comprehended the material a lot better now than when he was still in high school.

However, there was always that one killjoy to ruin the heartfelt mood.

“How dumb is it to say that you’re in love after the first glance?” You opposed, putting the spotlight on you. This book was said to be a classic in literature, but as you matured physically and mentally, you could no longer agree with it. “Isn’t love the same thing that killed Romeo and Juliet in the end?”

Remembering what Princess Diana told him, he wasn’t going to let this pass. He wanted to give a piece of his mind too, caring less if the show must be paused. “Love is an emotion we don’t ask to feel. It’ll come to us when we least expect it, even when the timing of it can be crucial.”

“Of all the people Juliet could’ve gone for, it just had to be the enemy.” In all the years you’ve been brought to life, no one dared to test your opinions because they were aware of your intelligence, from the streets to the books. When someone bark, you’d bite back. Hard. “With all due respect, I love your works, Shakespeare. Yet the fate you’ve given these two at a young age was grave, could’ve you given them a better outcome or another character to love instead?”

“Giving them extra characters to love won’t address the horrific life fact that love can be dangerous. Regardless of what status you’re in, you can’t stop the attraction towards someone. The heart wants what it wants.” Jeno pressed his hand to his chest, pumping it a bit. Unknown to you and him, the audience found more entertainment in your argument. Anne, who was munching on the popcorn Jeno gave her earlier, passed the snack to Katherine who just couldn’t stop watching.

If this man wanted a challenge, you’re all ears. Who was he to compete with you? Was he not intelligent to know who you are?

“So are you insinuating that we just go with the flow? Be a slave to our emotions too and let them dictate our next motives?”

“Slave is such a strong word to use, (Y/N). But it’s not like we can’t choose who want to love because we actually can. In this case, Romeo chose Juliet and vice versa.”

“But what happens if the person you choose doesn’t choose you in return?”

“At least you tried your best, right? It’ll hurt like hell though, but it won’t last forever.” From his kneeling position, Jeno strutted his way with confidence. Trying not to let it mess with you, your extreme stare at him as if they’ll shoot lasers. Inches away from you, Jeno declared. “Love always has risks, that’s a given. Romeo and Juliet still tried and followed their hearts despite the downfall. But it was a needed downfall to get the message across.”

“No one would be that foolish to risk their lives for love though, right? Life is so precious, why would they do such a thing?”

“Even if they knew what their lives were without each other, they still preferred living a life where they were both in the picture. Therefore, they tried all they could that time because the regret of not doing anything at all carries a heavier burden.”

Whenever anyone argued with you, their debating points they spat back would further piss you off because most of the time, it never made sense. Back when this rude man told you to go home and be a wife in your earlier years of exploring, you civilly told him to fuck off, kicking his balls because he cornered you in an alley. For the first time, a man who tried to challenge you actually made sense. Was it because he lived in a modern time, where minds were more open? Because of the amount of sexism you faced in the past, you’ve turned a blind eye to the current period.

But your high pride maintained, not submitting into anything he said. “I still think it’s stupid to risk your life for love. There’s no such thing as having only one true love anyways, and you have to be alive to see it.”

“Fair point, but again, the feeling of regret and carrying it your entire life doesn’t fade easily. It’ll make you reflect on the what-ifs, and it’s heart-wrenching.” Jeno digressed, walking around you in circles. He’s intentionally trying to drive you mad, but he could care less. He wanted someone to put you in your place and open your mindset. “The question stands: would you rather try and go for it even knowing its risks or regret not even trying for the rest of your existence? Quite ironic for me to ask you that, don’t you think?”

Past the information board, Jeno researched more of your life history online. Your whole life was grounded on risks, from breaking the standards of your society, leaving your family and home country, to fending yourself from disrespectful men. Rather than living the original life expected from you, you chose not to because it didn’t make you happy. Such a risktaker he knew you are, but with the topic of love, he wondered why you were on a fence with it. Though some records stated you’ve had rendezvouses with a few men in your journeys, love was never in the equation. The single life was what you chose and you were more than satisfied, plus your adopted kids filled that supposed void anyways.

This man may have studied your history, but so much he still doesn’t know. Information that never made the books because you chose not to write or tell anyone about it. Aside from the discomfort growing in your chest, everyone else felt the awkward tension when you were lost for words.

Never been defeated in an argument, until tonight. Your mind lost its drive and willpower.

“Touché, Lee Jeno.” Indeed, his name you’re acquainted with. Numerously passed around in your exhibit, mostly from the lips of Cleopatra, who’d fantasize all the graphic things she would do to him. Too much information, least of your interest. “Please excuse me. I’d like to work on my sketches to ease my mind.”

As you quietly exited the room, an all too familiar sculpture leaned against the railings overseeing one side of the museum. Just like you, she hated accepting defeat or compromises. She always rooted for you to win. With a faint chuckle, “Facing a loss for the first time, I see.”

“Don’t even lecture me about it, Athena. I’m still fired up, and I need to relax.”

“Jeno is a different breed, isn’t he?” She stuck to your side, strolling wherever your feet led you.

“Different as in he’s a man? Yes. What else is there to it?”

“Men these days aren’t as trashy as those back in the day though. Shouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“Last time I did, it destroyed my heart. I’m not allowing myself to let men in even as a friend, Athena.”

She knew exactly what you were referring to, not touching on it further. No way will you let heartbreak or disappointment from men bother you. Even Sanghoon’s sweet company took a while to tolerate. You really needed to sketch this out on your pad right now, excusing yourself from Athena’s presence. Isolation wasn’t new to you; it’s what’s protecting your entire being. Immortal as you are, you had to recover from the past pain so the next decades won’t feel as brash.

You hoped to return to your old self when you were a fresh new figure in the 70s. So naïve, only proud of your accomplishments, and purely happy.

While Jeno continued to finish his scene in respect to Shakespeare, he received a standing ovation for his mini-show. Cleopatra didn’t expect such talent from him, growing fonder of the younger male. Whether she seduces him or not, he was never afraid to try new things and she liked that about him.

“Bravo, love!” Princess Diana praised, clapping at him.

Although Jeno appreciated all this positive attention, his thoughts bounced back to your and your stance on love. The debate earlier was just out of being playful, interested to hear your opinions. Though, he’s worried that he might’ve offended you. It may have been time to finally witness something like that, but then again, he was sure he touched something personal to you. No matter how you tried to fight it off, your eyes can’t lie. Staring down at him, there was pain beneath it. Your eyebrows scrunched to the center, thinking deeply yet remained utterly speechless.

A win he didn’t feel good about.

“It’s time she encountered something new in the years she’s been here. Give her some space tonight, then try again to reach out to her. Kindly this time; I’m not in the mood for another brawl that could end up like the Greek gods’ past fights downstairs.”

These clever words shared by Katherine loitered his mind for the rest of the night, eventually going back to finishing his current plate since everyone was behaving well. As great it is to get the approval of the majority, he tried brainstorming ways to make you like him too.

He understood the whole “men are trash” concept in today’s modern society, but if he could prove it wrong to at least one person, it would be you. Whatever is holding you back, he only hoped that you’d let it go. Questionably unsure as to why he was so persevering, he concluded that it was so he could perform his job better as the night guard. Set higher standards than Sanghoon even.

Nothing more, nothing less.

Weeks passed, and his attempts continued to be unsuccessful.

The capability for you to ignore his efforts remained strong, whether he was pestering you over small things or debating with you again about anything. Life, books, morals, the two of you always head butt each other. Anything good he did, you searched for a flaw in it. Whatever acts he’s tried and continued trying, not one flinch from you ever.

Even if that’s his state with you, his job no longer felt stressful nor strenuous. He’d try to sleep more on days he was off-duty. Although the fatigue of staying beyond his usual sleeping time was inevitable, he compromised to take a nap lasting an hour or two when the art pieces weren’t acting frisky.

Plus, there have been multiple times they adapted to any alterations so his physical well-being wouldn’t fall sick. Per order of Princess Diana and Hera, who by instinct became his motherly figures here, only wanting what’s best for the kids.

He became accustomed to everything that went on at night, discovering things on his own without Sanghoon’s guide. Anne talked about how much she missed biking in her neighborhood, so one night, Jeno snuck his bike inside and let her use it around the first floor. With proper monitoring so none of the paintings would be unbothered or pieces wouldn’t tumble.

Hermes the messenger god was fluent in every language possible, so every so often, Jeno would freely speak to him in Korean because sometimes he felt he could explode by the amount of English he used every night. Bilingual things, you know. He knew you were multilingual too, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t converse with you.

Because Jeno was heavily favored, that should’ve been enough to push through his night shifts before the end of the semester. In addition to that, the hourly rate was above the average of whatever Jaemin or Renjun was earning. For the past 2 months, Jeno paid upfront first, even paying back all his debts. It almost made Renjun want to switch jobs with him.

“Trust me, Renjun. You don’t want it, being the lowkey scaredy cat you are.”

Work no longer felt like work, and that’s what everyone aspired to feel. Nevertheless, he tended to worry over you mid-shift, glancing at you from his side view. Sketching, reading, and writing were your default actions. No matter how many times he said to himself not to let your dislike for him affect him, it’d always backfire.

Why were you so cold?

What made you lose your fire from all the research he did about your lively personality?

When morning arrived and he gathered his stuff, you’d be the last thing he’ll check on. Frozen in your standing pose, smiling as you held a book and a pencil, he detected how fake it was. Bystanders would only assume your happiness was from your achievements, though Jeno’s gut firmly pried that something grand overpowered that happiness. And definitely, not in a good way.

Out of all the art pieces, he investigated on you the most. Skimming through every material in the library, endless searching on the net, even asking professors from the History department thanks to Renjun, he did whatever he could. People may already think he was obsessed with who you are, but only little did they know.

Another plate was done and submitted, and he promised himself to look you up one last time before surrendering. For someone who’s rarely given up on a challenge, this one was really out of his control. Maybe he should follow Sanghoon’s footsteps now.

You lived centuries before him, and there’s limited material of you left. Rather than learning of your adventures again, he dug through what things you liked over your life. Maybe by giving one of them, it’ll lessen the tension from a 100 to 99. Maybe you preferred gifts over words, he’ll never know until he tried.

Boom.

According to one of your journal entries, there’s a fond liking you’ve acquired for lavender roses from Benjamin and Liam when they visited you in Paris in secret because of how much you missed them. It went both ways, praying your family ties could be recovered.

It’s a good thing he needed to refill his stock of items for the art pieces so he could pass by the flower store a few blocks away from his dorm. That night, without further words, he graciously offered you a fresh lavender rose in between your new sketching session.

“I may not know exactly why you’re spiritless around me, but with this rose, I hope we could work something out.”

Your frigid face of disdain, keeping your chin high and squinting your eyes with judgment, began to crumble down. Of all things as a peace offering, he gave you that? Then again, it’s not like he knew that an item you liked so much became something you’ve grown to hate and why so. No history books could teach him that.

Vulnerability was a normal thing, yet feared by many. Once one uncovered your weak spot, they could harm you. You still couldn’t trust Jeno fully, not willing to show your helplessness nor were you ever going to tell him. Hidden from his knowledge, everyone else including Sanghoon were familiarized as to why this kind of flower tormented you.

You sprinted like thunder out the exhibit room to wherever it’s private to control your senses. You may not have a physical heart, but your emotions were just as actual as a human’s. You needed to regulate your panting breath. In the past decades, you’ve not shed a singular tear but the cycle broke when they streamed out your miserable eyes like a flowing river. Quiet sobs, an empty corner near the fire exit was where your wobbly legs faltered, the painful memories of the past replayed in your head. Once beautiful, but now an agonizing reminder of what could’ve been.

Katherine, Cleopatra, and Anne were swift on their feet to hunt you down, anxious of what you may do next. Seeing or the mention of these flowers still affected you despairingly. Sanghoon must’ve forgotten to write them down, or perhaps he didn’t know either about this fact during all the years he’s worked there.

It’s one of the biggest secrets of his museum. By the clueless face Jeno had with his eyebrows raised, mouth, and small eyes slightly open, he repeatedly asked what he did wrong and adding that he never meant to harm you. Indeed, they knew that yet what occurred involved a secret in the list of museum secrets. Confidential only between art pieces according to Athena, none of the male wax figures spoke a word, only pitying the boy.

“I wasn’t here yet that time, but they said that it was once beautiful, but now it’s a rough period.” With hesitation, Princess Diana chose to reveal it to rid Jeno’s misery. She didn’t mind having to argue about it with Athena later on, as this may further affect the two of you later on.

“A long time ago in the early ‘80s, there was a night guard around your age named Junmyeon. Also, a college student, trying to make ends meet. He did it for 3 years until he graduated. Though within his stay, not only was he such a delight to everyone, he broke a golden rule in the guide. I believe you do know the guide much more now, Jeno?”

“Yes, I do, Princess Diana. Memorized it even, but which one specifically?” Jeno’s desperate eyes pleaded, only hoping for the best and to fix what he messed up.

“You can form friendships with the art pieces, but nothing more.” Princess Diana replied bitterly. “Junmyeon was an aspiring painter, a different path from his business-oriented family. He was seen as the black sheep. She resonated with him, sharing the burden and lifting it by doing whatever fun they could in the museum. In time, they both fell in love with each other; they were each other’s first loves.”

“Why must something beautiful like love be broken? It’s not like you can control it. That golden rule makes no sense.”

“It does, unfortunately. Wax figures like me cannot age, while humans like you can. None of them could accept the reality, always pushing it away. Until Junmyeon’s last week in university, he broke it off with her unexpectedly. From there, (Y/N) was heartbroken for decades. With heartbreak, giving the cold shoulder and bitterness followed. Then with the lavender rose you gave that she used to love became a flower that she associated with Junmyeon too because he gave her one almost every night for those past 3 years.”

Things finally added up, and the guilt in Jeno’s gut expanded. His major lightbulb moment was a major failure.

“Has Junmyeon ever returned to try and win her back?”

“Well, there was one time he did come back for an art exhibition for his paintings in the 2000s. I was already here, then he had a woman around his shoulder with an adolescent boy holding his hand. He roamed around our exhibit and kept gawking at (Y/N). We may be asleep, but we remember the conversations exchanged in the room. So, his son then asked him if he knew who she was.”

“What did he respond?” Jeno attentively listened, on the edge of such a hurtful tale.

“He knew her name, praising her for historical achievements. However, nothing as a former friend or lover. From what I predict, he ingested one of Circe’s potions.”

“But I thought Circe isn’t allowed to make potions for actual consumption. She’s not even allowed to enter the Oriental Art Room.” Jeno pointed out, overwhelmed at the puzzling past. Princess Diana was mindful that she had to stop spreading too much information, so she had to end her discussion with the lost boy.

“There are a lot of secrets about this museum, Jeno. Unfortunately, I cannot reveal to you to protect our peace.”

With due respect, Jeno quit his follow-up questions and concerns. The only thing he wished to do was mend his relationship with you. As vague as to where you even stood in the first place, he unintentionally crossed a line due to his selfish intention to befriend you.

“What can I do now, Princess Diana? You know I’d never push her buttons like that, even if I’m a whimsical person.”

“Oh, my boy.” Princess Diana soothed, holding both her hand on his sweaty palm and cupping his cheek. “For the meantime, give her space. No taunting for a while, and just observe her from a distance. Though do not fret the slightest; I’m sure she’ll be okay again.”

During that interval, you were hunched on the wall, bawling and weeping like the wound was brand new again. While Katherine and Anne stood by your side, on the lookout for anyone who’d be spying on you, Cleopatra knelt in front of you as your infinite tears gushed down.

“My dear,” She tried to wipe some of them while holding your hand. “It’s been years, and Jeno didn’t know a single thing. He didn’t mean to do it.”

“I don’t care, Cleopatra! He should’ve stopped trying to socialize with me because I won’t ever live down my experience with Junmyeon.”

“As if crying like this will bring Junmyeon back to your life,” Cleopatra exclaimed, holding in her temper. Acquainted with heartbreak, it’s awful that it changed you entirely, but you should’ve found a way to heal. Throughout your attitude change, it’s mostly you in pain, not those you inflict it to. “My dear, I love you a lot. But this Jeno boy is different, and you know it.”

“He’s still a nightguard, for Christ’s sake, Cleopatra.”

“You shouldn’t generalize that all night guards are bad just because of one encounter that occurred at the wrong time.” Brushing some strands stuck by your wet visage, she professed to you bluntly. “You’re never going to know how good Jeno is unless you slowly open up again, (Y/N). Not forcing you the slightest, but healing started once you’ve acknowledged the past and move on from it.”

“But I’m scared, Cleopatra.” You restlessly admitted, hunching even more against the wall. Your poor, metaphorical heart could only take so much. You barely expressed sorrow towards others as you always held a strong exterior, only letting it out alone. Not holding back anymore, Cleopatra brought you in for a hug. The last time she did that was the first night after Junmyeon left, calming your intensified emotions so you wouldn’t do anything dumb that night. No violence, just pure sorrow.

“My dear, it’s alright.” She whispered while stroking your back upwards. “But you’re a risktaker; that’s how people remember you. Now, you must challenge yourself to move on from things that didn’t work out. Because once you do, it’ll put your heart and mind at ease.”

“Do you think I’ll be okay again?”

“Yes, you will be, my dear. You are not alone, and never will be.”

Acting like the dutiful son he always was, Jeno distanced from you.

He still cracked jokes, chatted with the art pieces, and followed the rules, yet never did he utter anything to you. You’ve proudly anticipated it since day one, not wanting him up in your business or teasing you ever. But this time, it felt odd.

On nights he didn’t report, you’ve unconsciously wondered what he may have been up to. A job like this at his age was just as Sanghoon once said: nothing in the regular.

Was he with his friends?

Was he resting well?

From the moment you chose to let go of your limitations and old thoughts, it included your grudge against past guards. Asking for forgiveness to Sanghoon when he returns was on the top of your list, however, that’ll take a while to happen. In the start, you’re baffled as to why he no longer picked on you like every night he’s been present. Somehow, it became a habit you’ve gotten used to, having so many comebacks planned to fend yourself. But you didn’t want to concede to it, maintaining what was left of your pride since that breakdown.

While on the subject, you suspected if anyone told him anything that night because that also indicated the last time he reached out to you. By anything, it would be your unwritten past with Junmyeon. A part of yourself in the museum that you didn’t want to disperse like rapid-fire again. It would be the last thing you wanted Jeno to know.

To your misfortune, Princess Diana came clean due to your growing concern over it. Although your attitude changed and people got used to it, you could only blame yourself that you were responsible for Jeno’s change.

“All he wanted was to understand and enlighten us with his likable presence. Then with you, you were his challenge because of your high walls. Out of everyone, he tried to learn everything about you. From my observation, whenever he has a goal, he’s determined to achieve it.”

“But I’m trying to be better now, Diana. Why did he stop?”

“He may have determination, but he knows where the boundaries lie.” Princess Diana patted the side of your arm, giving you a half-grin. “It hurt him when he hurt you, even if it was accidental. So he opted to give you space; that way, you could catch a breather and he wouldn’t harm you anymore. It was what you wanted from the start anyways, right?”

A hard pill to swallow, though it was a fact. It’s just that now, you’re slowly willing to release yourself from the dark. It’s been decades, and more to come. Nothing can move on unless you do.

“Where is he, Princess Diana?”

Just as she predicted right on the edge, Diana completed the grin on her face and led you to the entrance of your exhibit. She may be younger than you, but you’re reverted in your twenties while she remained in her mid-thirties. Gaping the wide museum from the railing, starting from the painting exhibit in the lobby to across the other side of the museum, Diana spotted the black hair of the boy in the Foreign Art Room.

“Over there.”

Observing where her eyes focused, you caught a glimpse of a recognizable side profile. The owner’s eyes were completely taken by whatever he was drawing on the fold-up desk he brought out from the storage room. By the tedious action of his right hand going up and down, you’ve gotten so used to his part-time identity as the night guard to entirely dismiss his current status as a university student.

Architecture specifically as he first introduced himself to you. The same path your oldest brother, Christopher, worked in. The look of tenacity Jeno presented as his eyebrows continuously scrunched, his crescent orbs hastily spied his work for any unnecessary details and his veiny hands brushed his already messy hair, you were profoundly reminded of Christopher when he was designing his possible future house. You were 8 years old, and he was 22, who just got married. He explained how many floors it’ll have, what rooms to put and what extra furniture he’ll place to make it feel more at home.

Seeing how exceptional his art skills were, you started to sketch like him. With flowers first, it turned into bedrooms and sceneries of your neighborhood. You felt your shoulders rise in accomplishment when you were able to accurately draw people. As much as you credited Benjamin and Liam the most in your works, it’ll only be within yourself to know that you also held a soft spot for Christopher.

Excusing yourself to Princess Diana, you bravely yet quietly ventured into the Foreign Art Room. Hiding first from one of the cement columns, you resumed watching him sketch. Instead of a pencil, he used a black pen with a tip as thin as a pencil. Your assumptions would be it was for a class, basing it on him informing everybody earlier that he’ll be inactive for the remaining hours of his shift to focus on his midterm requirements. That must be difficult to balance, yet he still does everything expected from him. Maybe the second cup of iced coffee beside him stimulated his bones and mind, letting his imagination free.

Through the limited space, you tiptoed whilst holding the side of the column to make up his work. There were 2 and a half rectangular shapes stacked on top of each other, the third one he was still tracing. A sign encrypted with tiny written words you couldn’t decipher, the beauty and modernity of Jeno’s plate cannot go unappreciated.

“That’s absolutely beautiful.”

Sweet words you didn’t think would bounce back in the room, Jeno’s pace ceased whilst you hid again. Art pieces capable of walking weren’t allowed here, he locked the door even beforehand! Or he thought as he was rushing to get his work done because one of his terror professors moved up the deadline to tomorrow morning. Not even 25% finished, he petitioned for everyone’s cooperation just for tonight.

He used up his 2 days of not having the night shift for other projects, and not wanting to ruin his perfect attendance, he proceeded to show up.

The voices from the foreign paintings around him hushed for him out of respect. So possibly someone snuck in, his head looking around for intruders. But only did he quit it when he saw your blurry reflection leaning against the column. The glass windows slightly mirror back what it sees, without you knowing that.

Not to mention, the small bit of your lilac dress was left out. Of all people, it was you?

“Do my eyes deceive me or is Miss (Y/N) (Y/L/N) inside when she’s not allowed so?”

To break the killing tension, he tested the waves with an innocent taunt. Never did you reach out to him, so least to say he was entertained whilst keeping his distance.

Fixing your proud stance, you responded in a low baritone voice you used to persuade numerous men in her adventures. “Uhm no, I don’t know who she is.”

As intelligent as you were, Jeno was a few steps farther than you this time. Educated about the risky ways you’d get around and one of them was changing the pitch of your voice, he heartily laughed at your unsuccessful attempt.

“Okay don’t lie, (Y/N). I can see a trail of your dress and your cloak. Oh, your reflection too.”

Damn, you peeked a little to realize that he was correct. Hauling your dress back in to readjust your outfit, you pushed your hair back before appearing to him. Though when you did such, you didn’t suppose that he was practically beside you the entire time. Bumping into his towering stance of 5’10 while the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up, your proud posture loosened up. He even discarded his blazer. A few more inches, he could’ve cornered you on the column if you didn’t take another step back.

Has he always been this tall or were you so used to your boots having high heels under? Oh wait, maybe because you wore flats this time because it’s making your toes sore. Your head bowed from struggling to maintain eye contact with him, your palms caressing your cheeks that suddenly heated up. Clearing your throat, you straightened your back again like nothing happened.

Jeno thought otherwise, shrugging his shoulders as he chuckled. He’s never seen you get shy, not that it was a bad thing either. The temptation to play around it more was there, but he was running out of time for his assignment.

“Come in. I’ll let you off the hook this time.” His arms opened up, allowing you access to such a wonderful exhibit. Paintings from different European periods, miniature versions of famous infrastructures inside glass containers, and replicas of Greek columns in the front entrance, no wonder it’s important to protect them all.

“Are you sure?” Watching him return to his spot, which was a bench in the center of the exhibit with a table in front, it didn’t process that you were gawking at his toned back. His broad shoulders and the evident muscles in his arms while he stretched, your eyes were speedy to look away when he tried to take a glance at you.

“I don’t think the paintings here and I mind.” Sitting down again, he tapped the vacant space beside him. “Feel free to watch me draw if you want to.”

Settling by his side, he recommenced where he left off. Now with a closer view of his piece, it did look like a building as you thought. He was sketching the remaining outline of the 3rd floor of this hypothetical place, continuously checking his ruler to monitor if the lines were consistent. Able to pick up on the words of the sign beside the building, you wowed with one hand on your lips.

“You’re redrawing Seoul National University Museum of Art?”

“One of my plate assignments was to visualize a renovation of a certain place, so I chose the museum.”

“Why so?”

“Well,” Jeno shook his pen so the ink could come out. “This entire place comes to life with the royal plate, so I think we should expand the space and bring in more art pieces to life if we add another extra floor. A rooftop area for visitors and events would be fun. And definitely, we should modernize the exterior and interior a bit because it looks outdated personally. That’s also what my friends think too.”

Noticing the minor details of his plate whilst removing any unnecessary pens so it wouldn’t smudge, “Huh, I quite agree with you.”

For the first time since his night shift, you, (Y/N) (Y/L/N), came into an agreement with him. He became so accustomed to clashing opinions that now, you had no contrasting points to make at all. A good change perhaps was what he’s witnessing.

“Woah, who are you agreeing with me and where’s (Y/N)?” He creased his brows whilst locking eye contact with you. This time, you didn’t wince away and just nudged him on his shoulder to get back to work.

“Hush, Jeno. Isn’t that due later? Get to work, I’ll roam around here for the meantime.”

After decades in this museum, you’re enlightened with the foreign paintings in which some you’ve heard of in your younger years and some that were created beyond your time. The Birth of Venus, Liberty Leading the People, Girl with a Pearl Earring, there’s an advantage of learning about their stories that humans couldn’t interpret. Logical that this section must be off-limits because these pieces were extra special, yet there’s so much more than what meets the eye.

There’s peace in silence while you wandered around, though it doesn’t hinder only at the art. Jeno hasn’t uttered a word since he got back to drawing, and once you asked him what’s doing now, still no answer back. Odd, he’s constantly awa-

Oh, my. You must’ve jinxed it.

Your eyes laid on Jeno leaning forward on his desk with his arms serving as his pillow, resting his head sideways. Soft snores and minimal movement in his upper body to shake the growing cold temperature of the room, he was sleeping like a log.

Putting into perspective, he hasn’t acquired enough rest specifically this past 2 weeks. The endless number of plates due making him work extra during his shift rather than sleeping in the slightest, exhaustion must be an understatement. Coffee no longer pushed him to his maximum for this week even.

But this was the path he chose, and it’ll have its challenges. Still, if you could relieve the stress in any way, you would. This would be one of the ways to repay for all the rudeness you’ve passed on him. Scurrying to his side, placing the plate on the side with his other things. You returned the caps of his open pens so they don’t spill. They must be expensive, recalling how Jeno shared the cons of being an architecture major to Princess Diana. One was the pens needed for sketching, and any tiny damages to them meant buying them again.

With his watch on clear display, he only had 2 hours left until his shift was done. Then, 4 hours until his plate assignment was done, and his current plate was far from done.

The blunt impulse to wake him up slithered your mind, though his calm state deflected your duty. As if you were on board a ship again for your explorations, you paid attention to the view with a relaxed mindset.

Lee Jeno specifically was the view.

His coffee-stained lips were parted and his sharp nose breathing in and out at a relaxing pace, he must be dreaming a happy moment the way half his lips curved into a smile. If he’s resting well, then you too would be calm.

Because of your past disinterest in him, only at this moment did you observe how sharp his jawline was and the cuts on his arms he sought refuge in. No matter how many times you tried to deny Hera’s compliments of him on the side, you couldn’t.

Lee Jeno embodied attractive features; both physical and emotional.

Back to his plate, it’ll put him at a disadvantage if he submitted the way it looked before he passed out. But you remembered all those extra details he mentioned and wanted to add to this project. Being an explorer, you documented all your ventures through words or drawings. You’re fast to adjust to anything new too.

For all the good he’s done for everyone, he only deserved some help in return.

Your version of help was sketching the remaining details of this plate, using other pens for more emphasis. It’s a risk also, but no way could you turn a blind eye on Jeno this time.

Around 5:30 am, Jeno’s eyes blinked open due to a brightening light from the outside. Stretching his limbs, he finds a velvet cloak wrapped around him like a blanket. But before he could question it, he pulled his arm in to see the time on his watch.

“Fuck!” He cursed, realizing that his so-called 10-minute snooze break aborted.

“Oh my, you’re awake!” From his frazzled state, there you were. So put together yet active, some strands of your hair falling down your face even with your hair up in a ponytail. “How was your sleep?”

This whole time he could’ve been woken up, yet you chose not to. You’re aware of his deadline, yet you let him rest entirely. He could’ve burst out in stress, yet he didn’t. You and he may have started on the wrong foot, yet it’s impossible of you to do such an evil thing. He’ll just have to tolerate the outcome later today.

“Refreshing. I really needed it.” Packing his things in his bag and closing the table, you trailed along as he exited with you. Locking up, he has 30 minutes left to accomplish the cleaning. A long good morning indeed.

But his worry of that vanished when you admitted that you had it all covered.

“Everyone helped out in cleaning, plus there are no damages made either.” From your hand, you returned one of his keys that was on his guard blazer. “I double-checked the Oriental Room and locked the doors again.”

“Why are you suddenly so nice to me, (Y/N)?” He questioned with confusion, wearing his blazer again and patting away any creases. He placed your cloak over you again like a true gentleman.

Without a word, you simply invited him to walk you back to your exhibit as parts of the sun began to rise. As you returned to your section, your fellow figures readying themselves to pose again,

“It’s my way to apologize for my very rude first impression and the succeeding moments after. I was too cooped up in my past that I was too afraid to let humans in again, night guards in particular.” You admitted, removing your cloak and placing behind your chair like always. “I’m so sorry, Jeno. Everyone was right about you and your kind heart.”

“About time.” Cleopatra’s sultry voice cut in, laying on her day bed.

Before you had the chance to flip off, Jeno mediated swiftly. With a gentle smile, “No worries about it. I’m just happy you’re okay, after all you’ve been through.”

“Can we start over then?”

“Absolutely.” With his free hand, he brought it out. No matter what kind of introductions, shaking one’s hand was the best way to start a friendship. “Good evening. I’m Lee Jeno, the new museum night guard.”

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N), explorer and author.” Sighing at his humor, you still replied by shaking his hand. “And I believe you’re mistaken, Lee Jeno. It’s a good morning.”

Seconds after, you imitated your typical pose and smile. Only now, the latter was more genuine. Finally, a fresh start to end your agony.

Once the sun fully revealed itself, every figure including yourself froze back to sleep. Something Jeno wished to catch up on if it weren’t for his damn plate. He was so screwed, already contemplating his next steps if he does fail this class. The possibility of getting delayed in all aspects, he dreaded it already.

Heading back to his dorm, where both his roommates completely passed out from soju on the couch, he sat by his work desk and turned on his night lamp for more light since the sun wasn’t strong enough yet.

With another cup of coffee, he cracked the joints of his knuckles and laid out his pens. He had 2 hours left to submit this plate, and at most he should accomplish 50% of his initial plan. However, he didn’t anticipate such a gorgeous outcome when he brought out his plate.

Picture perfect of every detail he desired, even adding a rooftop area with that he’d love to have if ever the museum does go under renovation one day. Rather than setting the plate during the day, it was at night as the skies were dark and bright specks of yellow inside the building symbolized light.

So much for wasting coffee, he’ll just give it to Jaemin when he wakes up later. Below the final product, a note written in cursive was stuck on it.

I knew you wanted to get this specific plate done, but you mustn’t compromise your sleep for it. It’s your inhumane professor’s fault!

To make up for my faults, I wanted to help you out. I paid extra attention to the details you spoke highly about, so I only hoped that I interpreted it correctly. It’s risky, but as someone who researched so much about me, would you be surprised that I did such a thing?

PS: Get back to sleep. I’m quite sure your desk is laid out the same way in the Foreign Art Room.

Respectfully,

(Y/N)

Turning off his lamp, Jeno jumped the covers of his bed to continue his lost sleep. Without an ounce of care that he hasn’t changed into cleaner clothes, he’s relieved that he won’t flunk his class.

Most of all, he’s relieved that you’ve melted the ice in you and allowed kindness to come in. Jeno may never understand how hard that must’ve been for you, yet he raved you for it.

“Oh, (Y/N) (Y/L/N). Surprise is an understatement when it comes to you.”

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hurting-fictional-people · 3 years

Text

Betrayal Story - Part 6

Hii look at what I finally finished! sorry for taking so long to post this guys, I don't even have an explanation lol... I have something else already half written for the boys so hopefully I won't take so long to update the story again 🙃 anyways, I hope y'all like it <3

tagging @thelazywitchphotographer @swift-perseides @whump-it-like-its-hot @sunflower1000 @msrandonstuff @fromtheo-withlove @boxofsilence @lionhxartx @sometouchofmadness @paleassprince @livingforthewhump @1becky1 @shameful-indulgence @whatwhumpcomments @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @starnight-whump @writingbackwards @noodlesandkareokee @mylifeisonthebookshelf @nightwhumpee

CW: forced sedation, manhandling, drugged whumpee, needle mention, aftermath of branding/burning

Part 1 here, continued from here

Liam can’t move. Every time he does, his arms do too and the mere brush of burned skin against pristine bandages is enough to get him on the verge of tears.

The room he’s kept in is too barren, too small to provide any kind of distraction from the constant pulse of pain – too much and never abating. No one listens or cares when he begs for medication, for anything to ease the agony. The doctor comes in to see him, give him antibiotics and check if there’s no infection, but barely looks at Liam when he whimpers under gloved hands.

The first time he takes a glance at the twisted skin underneath the wound dressing, a breathy, hysterical laugh slips out, quickly followed by a silent gasp as Chase’s initials weigh on his arms. He was always his, in the end, wasn’t he? Even after being betrayed and stabbed and kidnapped, he could never get the agent off his mind. Now he’ll be on Liam’s body as well.

It takes all of his willpower not to rip the dressings off once the doctor and nurses leave, just to stare at the hideous thing his arms are now.

But in the silent room, with nothing to do but think and despair, Liam can’t stop looking at the bandages.

He doesn’t know how long he spends staring at it – at the white itchy gauze, and the burns that hurt underneath it. At the C and the R he knows are forever burned on his skin. Like fucking cattle, marked with his owner’s name. Like the stupid boy who thought he could give his heart away to the beautiful, mysterious man that smiled at him. If nothing else, it is a good reminder of how big of a fool Liam is. If he lives long enough for it to be useful, that is. If Jonah doesn’t decide he’s had enough of Liam soon.

Horror floods him at the thought, and when his heart speeds up, Liam can’t hold it any longer. He pulls off the bandages in one swift movement, holding his breath when a wave of fire licks his arms. It doesn’t stop him from ripping out the second bandage though.

His hands tremble on his lap as Liam stares at the skin above his wrists, red with blood and raw skin disfigured into letters. It looks just as ugly as it feels.

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until a tear drips on his thigh. And then another and one more, until he’s openly sobbing, chest heaving and stomach twisting.

Lost in tears and the sight of burned skin that sinks into his heart and burns everything there too, Liam only realizes there are people in the room when a hand grabs his forearm.

“What did you do? I just bandaged that,” the nurse complains.

This time, this one time, he moves. Liam yanks his arm away from their grasp and stumbles out of the bed, away from the nurse that stares at him with wide eyes and a startled frown.

“D-d-don’t touch me,” he hisses, holding his hands as close to his chest as he can, and hissing again when sore skin rubs against his shirt. “Stay the fuck away!”

But instead of moving back or so much as talking to him, the nurse calls for the guards and starts walking in his direction.

Liam takes a step backward and presses his back against the wall, wild eyes searching for an escape, a weapon, anything, but salvation is nowhere near. “Please, don’t. Leave me alone.”

When the guards open the door and enter the room, Liam slides to the ground, as small as he can make himself, elbows on his knees, arms protecting his head.

“Get off!” he screams when hands grab at him, and thrashes in the hold. His foot connects with soft flesh, his knee with someone’s chin, but there are too many men. Too many hands for too little strength, no matter how desperately Liam fights.

They drag him through the floor as Liam writhes with every last bit of stamina he has, panic driving him to fight like he wishes he could every time he’s hurt.

A different kind of pain blooms as he squirms uselessly in unforgiving grips – one deeper, familiar, warmer. Liam still doesn’t stop.

“Fuck, he reopened the stab wound,” someone shouts over the cacophony of pain and panicked struggling. “Hold him down, now!”

Liam is pushed to the floor, and when someone squeezes both his arms to keep him there, right over the exposed burns, the world turns red, and a scream tears its way out of his throat.

“No, no, no, get off!” he sobs, kicking out even when a needle sinks into his arm. “n-n-nggh off, get, get o-off,” he tries again, but the world is already slipping through his fingers. He kicks out and thrashes as best as he can, but it isn’t enough. There are stronger bodies over him and the movement is barely there at all.

As much as Liam tries to keep his eyes open, they weigh too heavy, the drugs stronger than he is.

What isn’t?

Liam’s body relaxes against his will, slumps under harsh hands and angry stares, and all he can do is whimper when they drag his limp body to the bed.

Chase moves through life like a ghost, only a shell of helplessness and worry, and for the first time, his team notices. He hasn’t slept in days, not with Liam’s face twisted in agony ready to wake him up each time he closes his eyes. Has barely eaten, no appetite left when all he can think about is the boy he loves being hurt on his account.

How can he be free when Liam is locked up? How can he be the one who isn’t hurting when he is the only one who ever deserved it?

“Come on, I know that there’s something wrong,” Zoey says, crossing her arms.

If he could simply flee, he would, but with the hacker standing right in front of him, Chase knows it isn’t worth it. Even if he did leave, she wouldn’t stop trying to get the truth out of him. So Chase sighs and looks down at the blond woman who looks ready to commit murder.

“We all know it. You look like shit. What’s going on?”

It takes all of his strength to plaster a smirk on his lips and lean against the wall with a casual tilt of his head. “You guys worry too much. I’m fine, Zo. Probably could do with a little more sleep, but who couldn’t?”

As convincing as he hopes he sounds, Zoey doesn’t seem at all impressed by his acting. If anything, her frown deepens. “I know you, Chase. And you know me, so you know you can trust me. You look even worse than you did after that mission with the newspaper boy.”

Newspaper boy. If that was all Liam meant for him, maybe Chase’s heart wouldn’t be this tattered.

“Zoey. I am okay, I p– I promise.”

I never lied to you, he had said to Liam as he bled out in Chase’s arms. I betrayed you, yes, but not once did I lie. Stay alive and I’ll prove it to you.

But that was just another lie, wasn’t it? Liam is as alive as ever, and all Chase’s done is cause him more pain than any of them ever imagined possible. All he’s proven is his failure to keep Liam safe.

What is another lie when he’s already filled with them? Maybe that’s all he was always meant to be, all he will ever be – a betrayer. A traitor. A liar.

With a casual shrug that makes his stomach twist, Chase sidesteps his teammate. Before he can move farther away though, she grabs his arm and pulls him back.

“You are good at lying, but I can see the way your eyes have gone dull. I’m not going to force you to say it, but when you get tired of pretending to be fine, I’ll be here. Okay?” When Chase doesn’t answer, she takes a deep breath and nods. Zoey leaves him standing there, feeling dirty and raw, something stirring inside his chest and begging him to tell her everything.

Chase opens his mouth, the truth one breath away, and takes a step towards Zoey’s back. And then his phone buzzes, and reality comes crashing back as he looks at the screen and she disappears down the corridor.

Wanna see him?

It’s the first message he’s gotten from Jonah in days, and Chase holds his breath and freezes for a second at the words.

He’s rushing to his car even before his mind has caught up with his legs.

He’s standing in front of Jonah’s building in a matter of minutes, heart racing but mind weirdly quiet. Static silence, fear building up.

Jonah waits for him in the lobby this time, leaning against the open door of the elevator with a smile on his lips.

“Chase! Long time no see.”

“Where is he?”

“Straight to the point, huh. Boring as ever,” Jonah rolls his eyes. “I was feeling generous today, thought you might want to say hello. I’m not sure our dear boy will answer you, but you can try for yourself I guess.”

“What the fuck did you do?” Chase hisses as Jonah nods for him to get inside and presses the button.

“Nothing bad. He was just fussing about the pain, so my nurses gave him have a little something to relax.”

Chase steps into the elevator, two guards close behind, and fears he’ll shatter his jaw from how hard he’s clenching it.

“He also doesn’t really like his new… adornments, I don’t think. Ripped the bandages earlier today, wet the whole bed with tears.”

Jonah’s voice is light as he says it, the tone one would use to talk about something meaningless, something that doesn’t make Chase sink his nails into his palms and hold his breath. The man’s eyes are the telltale, shining with dark glee, and Chase can see the way Jonah follows his every movement like a predator, reveling at the little cracks in his unruffled façade.

“So when I offered him something to calm down, he didn’t even think before accepting,” he continues.

The doors slide open before any of them can say anything else. A small mercy.

The walk to Liam’s room is as quick as it is infinite. They stop in front of the door so incredibly soon, yet so painfully late.

“Be nice to him, I think he’s going through a phase,” Jonah chuckles as he nods for one of his men to unlock the door. “And don’t forget that this is your fault, dear.”

He barely realizes he’s entered the room until the lock clicks behind him. And then Chase’s eyes find Liam, and the world stops on its tracks, just like it always does when they are in the same room together.

He’s lying on his back, arms open and hands hanging off the bed, bandages covering the skin from Liam’s elbows to his wrists. His eyes are open, but unfocused, slow blinks that lead to nowhere even when Chase takes the first step towards him. His chest rises and falls slowly, rhythmically, a shallow blow of air through parted lips, and despite everything, Chase is happy that Liam isn’t in pain.

It is only when he stops beside the bed that Liam’s head lolls on the pillow, a sunflower looking for the sun even though no real light can reach him here. Still, he looks, and half-lidded eyes roam around the room before finally stopping on Chase’s face.

“Hey,” Chase says, curling one hand into a fist while the other clutches the edge of the bed.

“Mmgh,” Liam slurs with a shuddering breath and a crease on his forehead before trying again. “I, mm, I’m not, n-uh not feeling… well.”

“How can I help?” Chase’s voice is hoarse and low, pained, but Liam hears it. He hears it and he whimpers, shaking his head no.

Make it stop, his mouth forms, but doesn’t voice.

I can’t, Chase wants to scream, I’d give anything to make it all stop but I can’t. Instead, he softens his voice and tries to smile. “What if I do something to distract you? I… I was told you are under some strong drugs.”

Green eyes blink at him, and Chase is happy there are only the two of them in the room. He might actually lose it and punch Jonah square in the face if the man was here.

“How about I tell you a story? You’ve always liked them.”

Liam swallows, eyes darting around the room again, and even though Chase knows he isn’t listening, not really, he sits on the edge of the bed and starts talking.

“It’s about a boy who thought he could change the world, but instead changed the person who was sent to stop him.”

“Sou-sounds like a shit story,” Liam mumbles.

“Depends on how you look at it. Or who’s the one telling it, I guess.”

There’s a pause, and Liam sighs softly before talking again.

“Are you… are, are you really… here?”

The words slam into his chest, shattering anything left in there, and though Chase holds himself firmly still and keeps his face carefully free from anything but tenderness, something collapses inside of him. Maybe it’s his heart. It feels like it, and he wants to cry, to grab Liam and leave, but he can’t, and Liam strains to focus on his eyes, so Chase smiles like there isn’t burning agony rippling through him.

“Do you want me to be?”

“I, I don’t, I don’t know.” It is only a murmur, but Chase knows he’ll hear its echo in his nightmares for a long time – the uncertainty, the fear, the sadness. The helplessness.

I’m here. I would be here forever if I could.

But the words are only that – words. He can’t be here forever, nor erase all the pain he’s caused and continues to cause. So Chase picks up the pieces of his heart and pretends it doesn’t hurt to smirk and brush Liam’s hair away from his forehead like he used to do so long ago.

If he can’t take Liam away from this nightmare, the least he can do is pretend it is a dream.

“Then you should stop dreaming about me.”

“Ca-can’t,” Liam frowns, staring at the hand Chase just touched him with. “Will, will you leave? Again?”

“Only if you want me to.”

Liam looks up again, and something is missing in those eyes. A spark of life that was still there the last time they saw each other, but isn’t now. As Chase searches for the hope he always loved in the depths of Liam’s gaze, what he finds instead is sadness.

“Don’t go,” Liam breathes. “I, I, my h-head, it it it feels weird, Chase.”

“I know, love,” Chase says calmly, nothing of the wild desperation that rages inside of him seeping through the words. Not when Liam is this lost, this vulnerable. Not when it is the first time he has called Chase by his name after the betrayal. “It’ll pass.”

“I’m scared,” he murmurs, shifting on the bed. “But, I, I don’t remember… why.”

“You are okay, Liam. I promise. You’ll be okay.”

Liam closes his eyes and shakes his head, and when he speaks, his voice is only a whisper, gone even before he finishes. “I don’t believe you.”

Chase bites on his lip and creases his forehead, but none of it shows when he takes Liam’s hand in his own and gives it a little squeeze.

“I know. That’s okay too.”

But Liam isn’t there anymore to hear it. His body sags on the bed, taken away by the drugs, and Chase is left alone in Liam’s cell, watching the boy he’d kill and die for fall asleep. As he does, all Chase can think about is that he needs to get Liam out of here. Somehow, he needs to get him away, no matter the cost of it.

An hour goes by, and though it is one of the worst hours of Chase’s life, is it the first time he doesn’t feel like a part of his heart is bleeding in days. Not when he can see the bleeding part right in front of him.

He wants to wake Liam up, to hear his voice while he can, before he’s forced to leave again. But there’s peace on his face as he sleeps, and Chase can’t take him back to reality when he looks like he used to, like he could wake up at any moment and kiss Chase with a smile.

And then the door opens, and the memories vanish as Chase reluctantly gets up. As soon as he does though, Liam stirs on the bed, frail hand reaching out and grabbing Chase’s wrist before he can move away.

“You promised me… a… um, a story.”

Liam’s eyes open for a moment before closing again, but he doesn’t let go. Chase shoots one look at the guards waiting by the door and knows that nothing good will happen if he waits. He has to play nice if he wants to get Liam out.

Chase looks down at Liam again, and when he finds half-lidded eyes struggling to stay open, he can’t stop his voice from breaking mid-sentence.

“It’ll have to stay for another time, okay? I’ll see you soon, love.”

Liam’s eyes flutter back closed with a soft sigh. His voice is soft as the tears that sting Chase’s eyes when he speaks. “You al–, you always leave in real life too.”

Chase can’t find an answer before he is dragged out of the room by a firm grip he knows better than to fight. He yanks his arm away as soon as the door locks him and Liam on different sides, and hears the words rattling around his head while he is lead to sit in Jonah’s office to hear what the man wants next. All the way back to his house.

He doesn’t think when he calls Zoey. All he hears is Liam.

All he can see is Liam’s lost gaze, the life fading out of his eyes. All he knows is that if he lets him in Jonah’s claws one more second without doing anything, he might actually, truly, crumble down until he can’t pull himself back up.

He is sitting on his couch, hands over his face and elbows on his knees just like they have been since he got home, when his friend opens the door.

“Oh, Chase,” she breathes as soon as she sees his face and sits beside him. “What happened?”

He doesn’t get to crumble down. Not when it’s Liam the one being hurt. The one branded and tortured and kidnapped and betrayed. Still, when Zoey’s gentle arms wrap around him, he hugs her back.

“It’s Liam,” he says, fighting to get the words out through his heaving breaths, trying to force his mind to put them together long enough for someone else to know it too because he can’t do this on his own. He thought he could, he thought he was enough, but he isn’t and he needs to get Liam out, no matter what, no matter how, he has to, he has to before the light goes out in that beautiful green gaze. “He, I, he’s caught and it’s my fault and I thought I could keep him safe but I can’t and now–“

“Chase, breathe,” she commands, and he answers. It’s all he knows how to do, isn’t it? Answer orders. Look at what happens when he’s left on his own. “Let’s start from the begging.”

So Chase does.

(next)

#whump #whump writing #drug whump #noncon drugging #forced sedation #hostage whump #needle cw #captivity #hostage situation #betrayal story #angst #manhandling #aw look at chase finally doing something :') go on babe stop sitting around and letting your boy be tortured #pity liam is not gonna remember any of this later :) and will continue to think chase left him there :) yeah such a pity :)))#so what do y'all think of zoey? i didn't want to introduce another character because who cares lol but chase really needs the help

146 notes · View notes

oftenderweapons · 3 years

Text

Steamy Waters — Jungkook

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 7.7k

Genre: smut, pwp; initial fluff, but don’t let that fool you; established relationship; idol!AU

Rating: 18+

Hello my fluffy ducklings, welcome to Jeongguk’s Steamy Waters 😈

I won’t even pretend there’s a plot in this. It’s just Jk, coming home from the gym and finding excuses to shower with his gf. Set almost a month after Love Talk, Jeongguk is finally ready to take a big step in his relationship with Candy, however finding the courage for the big leap is excruciating. Candy is more than willing to reward him before asking for something in return, she simply doesn’t know how much her game will cost her.

I decided I’ll keep using the nickname the nickname “Guk”, (see more in this post). Now, straight on to...

TRIGGER WARNINGS: unprotected sex within an established relationship (don’t do that unless YOU’RE TESTED AND CLEAN), mentions of therapy and mental health; sweaty jock!Jungkook, smitten!Jungkook who can’t express his emotions but IS WORKING ON IT, with a very supportive gf; I guess there’s a striptease, if you like... squint?; masturbation (female and male receiving); breast worship; period talk; very intimate love confession; foreplay under the shower (specifically mutual oral sex — aka 69 — while laying on the floor); predator/prey dynamics (namely she runs and he chases her, finds her as she tries to hide, drags her out and throws her over his shoulder); plenty of lube (lube is important and useful, let’s normalise using it); lots of degradation and objectification, name calling (fuckdoll, slut, cocksleeve, cockfairy), very multiple orgasms — like a lot; edging (both male and female receiving), begging, crying, slight humiliation. These two know all the possible variations to missionary sex (sorry not sorry); biting; slightest, most delicate face slapping and grabbing; spanking; tattoo fetish; cumplay, mentions of cum eating.

[Inspired by this look]

Here is my masterlist and check out my non-idols!AU (Partition update coming on Sat, Jan 23rd!!!)

Remember to vote for next prompt (link in bio)!

And now, enjoy ✨💜

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The entry door smashed loudly sometime around ten p.m., followed by the thud of a bag falling to the floor, Jeongguk’s heavy steps stopping as he took of his shoes.

The moment he appeared he looked unreal, with an oversized black shirt reaching his mid thigh, the sleeves exposing his forearms and part of his tattoos, his hair falling messily in wet curls over his forehead.

“Candy, babe?” He called from the entry. “I’m home!”

“Guk?” You called from the kitchen, your head peeking around the corner. He spotted you and smiled.

“What you doing there?” He said with a smile, sauntering towards you, standing at your side and placing a hand around your waist as you stood by the stove.

You turned and stood on your tiptoes, puckering your lips and closing your eyes.

He bent down and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. “I’m sorry I’m messy.” He said, close to your mouth.

“Are you fresh out of the gym?” You asked.

He nodded. “I haven’t even showered yet. I wanted to come home as soon as possible.” His fingers rubbed your side gently, trying not to tickle you. “I missed you a lot today.”

You smiled as you finished warming up his favourite post-workout snack. “I’ve already eaten. I thought you might be hungry.” You said, just as he stole the ladle and took a sip.

“Yum!” He commented, placing the utensil back in your hand. He stood behind you, placing his hands on your shoulders. “I wanna hug you but I’m too sweaty.” He commented as he kneeled the tense muscles of your neck.

You shook your head. “Oh, these need to be washed,” you said, referring to your outfit. “We went to a bulgogi place today and I feel like I smell so bad.”

“You haven’t showered yet?” He asked, his hands slowing down, almost stopping.

“No… I switched on the tv and there was this interesting old interview with Miyazaki and I got caught up.” You explained with a cheery tone.

“The Japanese director and artist?” He asked.

“Yeah.” You confirmed, switching off the stove and pouring a couple ladles of noodles and broth in a bowl, adding some basic decorations on top.

He paused before wrapping an arm around your waist. “Can I hug you then?” He asked gently, almost too quietly for you to hear.

Still, there was no way you wouldn’t hear his voice. Sometimes you thought you could hear his very thoughts.

“Of course you can hug me, Guk.”

His body adhered to yours without hesitation, a low moan exiting his throat as he felt you sink even deeper into him, pressing into his body, almost trying to hide into him.

“I said I missed you.” He said shyly, waiting for you to praise him as he opened up about his emotions.

You were working through it, together, trying to make him open up more, offer you more of himself, of his feelings and fears.

“I missed you too, baby. I love you.” You spoke against his chest, taking in the clean and humid scent of his skin. He always smelled so good even after working out. Especially after working out.

Your hormones did a somersault.

“Today I felt very… restless.”

That was a very specific word for his emotional vocabulary. Lately, he was getting better and better, finding new words that fit his moods appropriately. His way of speaking was always plain, in the best meaning of the term. He is simple and transparent, always using basic words with great meaning. That seemed to be his style, pure and direct, honest.

However, he was growing a lot, even emotionally. He was slowly losing the adjective “young” that people normally put before the word “man” when trying to describe him.

He is a man. And an excellent one at that. Sure, a bit naive sometimes, and still shy, but he always showed a caring, attentive side whenever you tried to speak your needs and grievances within your relationship.

“Mh… What made you feel restless today?” You asked, repeating an exercise that your psychologist always made you do when you were a teen.

“We practiced a choreo all morning. And we always messed up the same part. There’s a very difficult transition and it’s just… so difficult to end up in the right position after the passage.” He said, huffing out loudly.

You thought about his food getting cold, still you knew that if you made him eat the conversation would quite surely stop. “Anything else, baby?” You asked, kissing his breastbone.

“We had a couple interviews this afternoon. One with a radio and another one with a talk show.” He said. “I’m glad that my English is improving. Namjoon hyung said he’s proud of me and that I did a good job.”

You heard the smile in his voice.

“Even Yoongi hyung said I did a good job. And he offered me a tangerine!” He said enthusiastically.

You rubbed his back. “We’re all proud of you, baby.” You said fondly.

“Thank you.” He replied and when you looked up at his face you saw his ears flush red.

“Time to eat, Koo.” You said, pressing your hands to the sides of his head, trying to calm down the blush.

He smiled.

He looked beautiful.

On your tiptoes, you kissed the mole under his lip, shortly before he picked you up by the waist and brought you at his eye level, your arms anchoring behind his neck as he pushed his mouth to yours. “Thank you.” He said again, that feeling in his chest getting more and more urgent.

He would say it. Just… Not now.

He had plans.

He took the bowl and a spoon in his hand, the other one staying around your back, pulling you to the table with him. First he placed down the objects and then he sat, still holding your hand, tugging at it gently and making you sit across his lap.

You giggled and adjusted yourself, your forearm moving behind him and securing you to his back.

He pecked your temple and thanked for the food quickly before digging in, slurping loudly and devouring the whole meal in eager, large spoonfuls.

“No one’s stealing your food, baby, don’t eat too fast.” You said, worried as he paused for a moment, only to take a few breaths and dig in again, finishing the bowl.

He placed down the spoon and rubbed his belly, exhaling with a satisfied grin.

You smirked. “Would you like some more?”

He shook his head no. “I wanna shower.” He said, placing the spoon in the bowl and handing both to you; but before you could protest, thinking he was asking you to tidy up, he moved one arm under your knees, the other around your shoulders, picking you up bridal style.

“Guk, for goodness’ sake!” You shrieked, trying to secure yourself with one arm, the other holding the bow.

“Trust me,” He said, “I’ve got you.” He reassured you, stopping in front of the sink and helping you place the bowl down. Next, he made you sit on the counter, “I need both hands free for this,” he said, picking up the pot and covering it with its lid before placing it back inside the fridge.

He would deal with that later.

“Come here,” he called, standing between your legs and picking you up again, his hands pressed to the back of your thighs. You pushed your nose against the soft hair of his nape. “Where are we going?” You asked, curious.

“Shower.” He said, reaching the room and placing you down near the sink in the dim light coming in from the window. He looked at the saffron gleam of the streetlights landing on the floor, cutting a thin, long stripe landing at your feet.

He took a step forward and stood in it, his black shirt immediately absorbing the light with a curious pattern of shadows that seemed to offer small outlines of the taut, solid muscles underneath.

Jeongguk stood there, fascinated with the way you looked at him, almost ready to hide his face in his hands before you traced the line of his collarbone, then up his throat, until you reached the deep darkness enshrouding his mouth.

“Would you take off your shirt?” You asked, cupping his jaw.

He nodded. “In a second.” He said, staring some more.

He would have never believed he looked at you the same way you looked at him, weren’t it for the picture that had become his new desktop wallpaper a few hours ago. Jin had sent him a picture of the night Jungkook had introduced you to the boys, a week after the two of you had reunited. In the picture, you were talking with Jimin and Taehyung, the older leaning into you as he laughed hysterically while the younger looked at you like you had hung the very stars in the sky. Sitting on the sofa, you glanced up at Jeongguk as he stood behind you with his hands on your shoulders, a large grin on his face and the warmest feeling glittering in his eyes, his ears bright as your own lips opened up in a soft smile.

And now he stood in front of you and you were gorgeous. And he felt so in love.

So desperate to touch you.

But you looked like a vision, a mirage ready to disappear like his unsteady feelings; like that ugly, lying voice could come up any moment and make his doubt you and himself, making him believe that he was incapable of understanding true love, that he had been fooled once and it was sweet like this at the beginning until all there was left was barren land and bitter dust.

He took off his shirt. You moved away the hand on his face before you got tangled up, giving him space until his naked torso was right in front of you.

“You’ve been getting skinnier.” You said, placing your hands on his pectorals. “You’ve lost weight?” You asked, cupping his face again.

“It’s why I’m exercising. It was hard to keep a routine while I was gone.” He explained, placing his hands around your wrists and pushing them down. “Am I not strong enough? Fit enough?” He asked once your hands were resting on his pectorals.

Your thumbs circled his nipples, making them harden immediately. “No, baby.” You argued, a bit disappointed. “I’m saying I wouldn’t mind if you slowed down with the gym and ate a tiny bit more.” You replied. “I love you. I don’t care about your looks, but you’re all bones and muscles. I don’t mind the flesh.” You said, pinching his belly and finding only skin between your fingers. “I’m saying I don’t want you to be so hard on yourself.” You explained before your hands travelled to the ribbon of his sweats.

“You want me to put on some weight?” He asked, incredulous.

“I just want you to be healthy and eat enough food to match your workouts, and do anything you want with your body without feeling pressured. True Army will love you with or without abs.” You raked your nails across his taut abdomen. “And I don’t care as long as I get to touch you like this. Or kiss you here.” You said, following the shape of his cock with a finger.

He smiled and blushed — which you couldn’t see, considering the dark room. What you did feel was his sex twitching and hardening some more. He moaned weakly, his head falling forward and landing on your shoulder. “You mean you care only about blowing me?” He asked, his hips pushing against your palm, his hair tickling your neck and ear, making you arch away from his sinfully messy mop of hair.

You cupped him from over his sweats, massaging him slowly, gently. “Let’s say it’s a pretty important factor in our relationship.” You joked, nuzzling your nose against his head.

“Mh...” He commented meditatively. “How important compared to your love for me?” He asked, mouthing at the underside of your jaw, chuckling and teasing it with the vibrations of his voice clad in a deep rumble and the thick, teasing accent of his dialect.

“Mh… they’re neck and neck for factor number one.” You teased back, tracing his happy trail with your index finger.

“Neck and neck, you say...” He mused, nipping at your throat harshly, making you gasp. “Let’s see what happens if I take it away from you.” He wondered as he took a step away, out of your grasp.

You tried to keep touching him until he was too far for you to reach.

“Hands to yourself, babe.” He scolded as you licked your lips, looking at him as he switched on the soft led from the shower, lowering it to a soft dark red. “Promise me you’ll keep your naughty fingers at bay.” He asked, taking one step toward you.

You nodded eagerly, “I promise. Please.” You begged, placing your palms flat on your thighs and waiting for him to come closer. Once more he stood between your legs, his hands catching your wrists and bringing your arms behind your back, indirectly making your spine arch forward and push your breasts up.

He stared unashamed at your curves, barely visible over the large cotton blouse. “Keep your hands there.” He said, his fingers starting at your buttons. “My turn.” He said, undoing enough buttons to reach the lower hem of your bra, his hands sliding into the opening and cupping your breast from the lower, outer part, pressing them together and planting his face right in the crevasse, making you laugh at the drastic way he dove in.

“You good there, Guk?”

He nodded simply. “God, if you’re listening, this is a good moment to die.” He commented gingerly. “Let my girlfriend’s tits be the last thing I see before I pass.” He went on. “Amen.”

The laughter overtook you, your whole body wiggling with giggles. “Admit it, you love my tits way more than you love me.” You said before realising that the joke didn’t work both ways: even though you had confessed your feelings, he hadn’t done so with an actual declaration yet.

“Neck and neck.” He replied, letting his feelings implicitly show with ambiguous confessions.

He drew the upper curve of each breast with small kisses while his fingers worked the buttons left. The moment he reached the last one, he undid it and raised his head, looking you in the eye for the longest, slowest seconds in the history of the universe. His lips collided with yours, pressure building and building until you separated, galaxies of feelings and sensations blooming in both of you.

His hands pushed the blouse off your shoulders, letting it slide to your wrists. Next, he moved the straps of your bra off your shoulders kissing the slope of your neck and collarbone slowly and leisurely on the left side, before turning to the other side and parting his lips, letting half an inch of his tongue hang from his mouth and trace the ridge of your collarbone, his fingers undoing the clasp of your bra. The garment slid lower, your breasts heavier now without the support of the small cage. “Are they sore?” He asked, kissing you under your ear before moving his hands to your forearms, freeing you from the shirt.

“A bit. It was hot outside today.” You paused. “And my period’s close.” You added, hoping he didn’t get embarrassed by the small statement.

He stayed silent for half a minute. “How close?” He asked, moving your arm to your front so he could remove one strap, then focusing on the other one, baring your torso completely.

“It should be… four or five days away.” You said after making a quick count.

He nodded before cupping your face and kissing your mouth. “Do you need me to stock anything in the house?” He asked, parting from your face and looking you in the eye? “Sanitary products, comfort food, anything?” He asked, his gaze so soft and caring you felt a string of your heart snap and break.

“I have those at home.” You said, combing his hair away from his face, the red light making his eyes even more intense, his lips even more tempting.

“You won’t be here on the weekend?” He asked, suddenly hesitant. “I know we met today because I called you and normally you prefer staying at your place on weekdays and coming over for the weekend; but I thought that meeting today wouldn’t mean I wouldn’t have the weekend.” He said, confused and a little bit sad. Even with the dim lights you could see the disappointed look on his face.

“I thought that since I had my per—”

“It’s not like I wouldn’t want to cuddle and sleep with you. You know I—” love you. “I don’t want only sex.” He said, frowning.

You noticed he grew increasingly upset, his teeth torturing his lower lip.

Can’t you just fucking say it, Jeon Jeongguk, for goodness’ sake! His brain snapped at him, but his heart stayed guarded and wary.

“Come here.” You said, opening your arms, and letting him barricade himself into your embrace, your chest hot against his, the late summer night making both your and his skin clammy. “I know you care about me.” You said, your hand sliding into the long locks of his nape. “I’m not used to this, Guk. You know how we did this before you left.”

“This is not before I left. This is now.” He said, his voice so insecure. “I want everything. The cuddles and the sex and the feelings and… all of it. I want to be there for you. Always.” He said, raising up, towering over you as hegave up on the protection of your arms and offered you the safety of his own. “I want you to count on me. To trust me and tell me when something’s wrong. I want to support you and protect you.” He said, more and more determined. “I want to be the one you want when you had a stressful day and you need to talk. I want your problems too, ____. I want the ugly bits too. I don’t want you to choose the parts that you think I can handle and offer those alone.” He patted your head before making you look at him. “I want everything, Candy. Every damn thing, baby. The good, the bad and the in between.” He bent to your ear and closed his eyes, leaning into you, pressing his forehead to your temple. “Will you let me be there for you, baby, please?” He asked, begging, holding the crown of your head with one hand and your waist with the other.

You nodded, almost too emotional. “Yes.” You replied simply before he pressed you to his chest, where his heart beat so loud you thought he would get a heart attack.

He placed both hands on your waist lifting you off the counter and placing you with your feet on the floor. “Take off your trousers and panties, Candy.” He spoke softly as he watched your hands slide down your sides dragging the garments all the way to your ankles before stepping out of them. He placed them in the basket with the dirty laundry.

“Your sweats,” you said, trying to reach for the waistband.

“No,” he said, getting undressed by himself.

Just like that, you stood naked in front of each other, his eyes focused on your face, your gaze laced with his.

“You're so beautiful.” He whispered, cupping the side of your neck before letting his hand skim your chest, the plumpness on your breast, the sensitive curve of your waist, his palm stopping at your hip before his fingers sunk into your flesh, his eyes following his hand with unbreakable focus.

Gently, he tugged you toward the shower, making you stop before entering. “Let me get the temperature right.” He said, opening the tap and waiting a little before the water turned warm. You stared at him as he tested the spray and dove under, small rivulets rolling down his body, following the curve of his back, drenching his hair and rolling down his cheeks as he rubbed his face with his hands.

“Come, babe.” Jeongguk said, stretching his hand toward you.

Biting your lip, you took a few steps before he moved out of the spray, hugging you before he took a small step back, your and his body both under the water. You simply pressed your mouth to the base of his throat while his hands made sure that your hair got properly wet before he could wash them.

Your hands moved down his back, from his shoulder blades to the small of his back, until you managed to reach the full roundness of his ass, massaging it slowly, comfortably.

He snickered. “Are you comfy there?” He asked, just as his hands reached your own ass and squeezed it. “Does that feel good?”

You nodded, the sound of the water drowning your small moan. “Let me.” You said, turning around and rubbing at your hair, making sure it was soaked.

His hands followed the curves of your body capturing your heavy breasts in his palms. He took a deep breath before he stretched to reach his body wash, pouring some in his palm and foaming it up before spreading it over your skin, the scent of his soap filling the space.

The lights were making it even more intimate, with the red-to-black spectrum tinging the experience in a variety of tones of eroticism. First and foremost, the mildest but most difficult of them all: intimacy.

Jeongguk placed his hands on your waist, making you turn around. You were there, with your hair pushed back, your beautiful face completely exposed to his observing stare. He couldn’t hold your gaze.

He poured more shower gel on his palm and after it turned into a small handful of bubbles he bent down and divided it between his hands, bending down and washing your legs, until he knelt, washing your feet.

“Guk.” You called shyly.

He hummed in reply, just as he took a gentler soap meant for your intimate parts. He pumped a dollop on his hand and foamed it briskly before cupping your vulva delicately, focusing on the simple, affectionate task at hand, making sure to spread your labia as you parted your legs slightly to let him have access. He rubbed the palm slowly, lightly against your skin, not sparing the back, in between your ass cheeks, waiting for the water to rinse his hands and clean you fully.

He felt ready.

His hands cupped your hips, holding tight without his fingers digging in, all the pressure focused on his palms.

He kissed your belly button.

“I love you.” He almost whispered.

You were far too lost in sensations to be sure that he had actually said what you thought you had heard.

“What?” You asked, looking down at him.

He delivered another small kiss on your tummy and looked up. “I love you, ____.” He said, before smiling timidly.

“You love me?” You asked, incredulous.

“Yes. I love you, Candy. A whole damn lot.” He said, kissing a straight line from your belly to your pubic bone, stopping there. “I wanna… Can I… Can I taste you?” He asked, waiting on his knees, removing his hands and mouth from you, letting you choose freely.

You looked at him before your mouth opened in the happiest, widest smile you had ever given him. “I love you, you know that, right?” You told him, touching his face, combing his hair back.

He nodded. “I love you too.” He said, and the more he said that, the more his body felt how right, how true it was.

“You wanna eat me out?” You asked as he nodded furiously.

You lifted a leg, ready to place it on his shoulder when he sat on his hip, then turned with his back to you, laying flat on the floor, his head away from the water spray.

Your brow furrowed before he tucked his elbows next to his torso, his hands close to his face before he grinned and wiggled his fingers in a “come forth” motion.

“Uhm…” You wondered, confused for a brief moment, trying to understand if he really meant for you to ride his face, especially since you were both still trying to understand the whole cunnilingus discourse.

“Sit on my face?” He asked, his cheeks blushing — which fortunately you couldn’t see with the current lighting, he considered.

Your eyebrows shot up. “You sure?” You asked.

“Pretty sure, yes. If you want to, of course.” He replied.

Slowly you lowered yourself to your knees, his hands circling your waist and heading up, up, until he met your breasts, before heading down again, fixing your hips right against his lips.

“I’m gonna start now, Candy.” He warned you, “you can ask me to stop whenever you want to, baby.”

“Wait!” You called. “Is it okay if I blow you?” You asked, pretty sure that it would be good for your mind space if you dedicated yourself to his pleasure, easing the mental pressure you felt whenever someone went down on you. After all, Jeongguk had been the first to make you cum during oral sex, and even with him sometimes you struggled reaching your high.

“You want to sixty-nine?” He asked, trying to comfort you by lacing his fingers with yours.

“I wanna try?” You asked. “Maybe it all works better if I’m not thinking about it too much. I could use a…distraction?” You explained, doubtful.

“Okay, let’s give this a go.” He replied, completely oblivious that the simple movements of his mouth as he spoke against your crotch were making your hole drip in wetness.

“Okay then!” You slowly lowered yourself on your elbows, his lips going on a slow side-to-side motion before he opened his mouth, his upper lip pressing against your entrance while his lower one met the sensitive nerve endings of your clit, making you moan just as his tip entered your mouth, your hand cupping his balls and sliding upwards, until you could grip him as comfortably as you could.

He released a heavy breath, the hot air meeting the raw skin of your slit. Just as his tongue made its way between your labia, you bobbed your head a couple times, making him moan loudly, which made you moan in return.

The whole situation turned into a game where the more you received, the more you gave.

As you started sucking him, creating a vacuum effect with your cheeks, his hands gripped your ass, his lips wrapping around your left labium, pumping it with his cheeks into his mouth, just past his teeth, that grazed it perfectly, alternating the softness of his lips and tongue with the hard edge of his teeth, making blood pool in the sensitive tissue. Meanwhile, on his lap, you were drooling all over him, pumping him with your fist as you started losing focus. “Guk.” You called.

He simply hummed and switched to the other side.

Yes, he was dedicated like that.

“Gu— Oh, yes, love, like that, baby, just like that.” You said as you felt his hands direct your hips in a grinding motion, your mouth returning between his legs out of sheer gratitude.

He moaned again, his eyelids fluttering with pleasure as you pushed his soft head to the back of your mouth, bobbing your head a few times before your hand started fondling his balls with your palm, twisting your wrist and using the pad of your thumb to tease the delicate spot between his balls and his anus.

He released your labium. “Candy. Fuck, baby, yeah, that a… I— I really like your finger there, baby.” He said, swallowing loudly before flicking the tip of his tongue repeatedly against your clit, spanking your ass brusquely before he gave a few strong pumps to your most sensitive spot.

You released his cock, letting it snap back to his belly and speaking against his shaft. “Please… Guk. Too good, love—” Your hips began to gyrate on him, his hands leading you, keeping your movements controlled so that he didn’t lose his grip between your legs. Holding his tongue rigid and still, he pushed the tip to the underside of your clit, dragging it up and exposing the most sensitive nerves, usually protected by the hood and way too sensitive for direct stimulation. Which is exactly why after two minutes your body stilled before starting to shake uncontrollably with effort, your whole universe silent, holding its breath before your lips opened in a high pitched, incoherent cry that announced your orgasm and predicted your reckless, ruthless movements on top of Jeongguk.

He took everything in.

Every small thing.

He kept moving his tongue even as it cramped, slapping your ass shamelessly, violently, spurring you into a wilder, more desperate pace as you — completely oblivious to your raw knees — rode him with a passion, pulling him into your mouth once more to quiet down your moans.

You felt your legs shake even more as his hips started pushing into your mouth, his long hums turning into short, deep groans and whimpers.

Just as you felt his balls tighten, you drew away, making him whine and arch his hips toward you.

“Please…” He called, his voice so, so miserable and pleading.

“You want your orgasm?” You asked, voice sultry.

You precisely knew what you wanted. And you had very clear plans on how to get it just right.

You looked right in front of you, at the small bathroom carpet laying just outside the shower, ready for you to dry your feet. Your escape route was bright and clear in front of your eyes.

“Does it feel nice?” You asked, un-straddling his face, acting as if you had each and every intention to bring him to the very edge and watch him dissolve.

“Please, Candy...” He cried, his hips undulating hypnotically.

“You wanna cum?” You cooed cutely.

He nodded eagerly. “Yeah… Please.”

You stopped. “Then come get me, bunny boy.” You grinned and stood, exiting the shower with a long step, shaking the water off your body as you rubbed your feet against the carpet a few times, before dashing for the door.

Alone, he opened his eyes and raised his head, looking around. “Candy?” He called again.

No sign.

He shook his head and stood up, his erection painful and uncomfortable as he closed the tap and walked out of the shower, drying his feet harshly as he switched off the bathroom lights and exited the room, looking around, spotting a trail of droplets on the floor.

He sneered and swore, staring at his hard on and clenching his jaw as he walked down the corridor with quick, long steps.

He found you as you tried to hide in the walk-in closet, almost sure you were unfollowed the moment you moved on all fours and tried to crawl under a lower shelf.

Jeongguk smirked, the scene disgustingly hilarious to him as he grabbed your hips and pulled you out of your hiding spot.

“That’s your plan?” He asked just as you tried to wiggle out of his grip.

His fingers dug into your waist, grabbing you even harder as he dragged you away from the shelf, where you could hit your head.

“You’re ridiculous.” He said, putting you on your feet before he turned you around and hoisted you over his shoulder, spanking you unceremoniously. “Running on wobbly legs.” He spanked you again. “Leaving a pretty trail of water leading me right here.” Another spank. “I thought I had taught you better than this.” He said, offering you some mercy and biting your leg instead of smacking your ass.

Your world was very unstable as he began walking you to his bedroom. He threw you on the mattress and switched on the led light behind the headboard. Again your view became nothing but the sultriest black and red.

“You wanted to make me angry?” He asked, looking you in the eye as he climbed on top of you, spreading your legs and sitting in between before both his arms caged your head.

His chest, wet and toned, was right before your eyes, moving with the fury of a wild beast. He grabbed your chin and led your gaze upward, into his. “I said, you wanted to make me angry?” He repeated.

You nodded.

“You wanted to make me snap?” He asked again, grabbing your face, making your lips turn into a silly pout.

You nodded once more. “I am—”

“I’ll tell you what you are.” He said, getting off you, opening his drawer and taking out a towel and a plastic bottle, which he placed on the bedside table before he lifted your legs with one arm and laid the towel down with the other.

You stayed silent as he took his time.

“You are a ridiculous little fuckdoll.” He stated clearly, no lips, no stutter, no hesitation whatsoever. “You are my dumb little fuckdoll,” he went on opening the bottle and letting a heavy amount of lube draw a line from the base to the tip as he held his cock away from his belly with his thumb and forefinger running around the glans. He spread the slick liquid with his palm, sliding it up and down as he hissed. “You always need to act like a dumb brat to make me fuck you like a slut.” The moment he leaned over you and poured some lube on your cunt too, you knew you were in for a long night. He closed the lid of the bottle but kept it nearby, in case he needed more.

You were close to your period, and once you had mentioned that you had some issues getting wet because of hormones changing. He was glad you gave him that kind of notions too. He had so much to learn still.

“You want me to fuck you hard?” He asked, spreading the wetness between your legs.

You nodded wordlessly.

“Not so wordy anymore, are we?” He said, cocking an eyebrow.

“Please, Guk.” You whimpered.

“That’s my little slut. You need to be fucked, uh?” He asked again, making you beg for him.

“Jeongguk, please.” You called again, pleading for his cock inside you.

“She even says ‘please’. Aren’t you desperate?” He asked, rubbing his tip up and down your slit.

“Yes, I’m your desperate doll. I’m begging… Please—” You whimpered, opening your legs as far as they would go.

He tutted and snarled. “Oh no. You’re not my desperate doll. You’re my desperate fuckdoll.” He said with a smirk. “Say it.”

“I’m your desperate fuckdoll.” You repeated with a thin voice.

He nodded “That’s right,” he replied, rewarding you with the tip of his cock as he swore and let it stay inside you, helping you get used to it — still, he grit his teeth, his deltoids and trapezei bulging with the effort. His tattooed hand held his cock to your entrance, covered in slick, helping you as he fed you a small inch at a time.

The moment he looked up at you, you noticed the lack of harshness in his eyes. “Are you okay, Candy?” He asked just as you hissed out a ‘yes’, closing your eyes and biting your lower lip. “Can I move?” He asked again, at which you nodded energetically. He giggled. “I love you, bae.” He concluded, making you whisper a brief ‘love you’ in reply before his bad boy persona came back into play.

“So you want it hard, uh?” He asked, feeling his cock already pulsate inside you.

“Yes, hard and fast, Guk. Please. I’m your fuckdoll. Do me like your little cocksleeve, please.” You begged, whiny and weak.

“Like my cocksleeve?” He said, rolling his hips twice before he pulled out. His hand drew away from his sex and moved to your mouth, laying there gently. “Cocksleeves don’t make a sound.” He leaned towards your ear. “So you’d better stay quiet.”

Your eyes blew wide as you bit your lip and furrowed your brow, his cock sinking in your flesh so hard that the smash echoed through every single organ inside your body.

You laid there and admired him as he fucked himself inside you, biting his lower lip and releasing it slowly, letting it roll and snap forward, past his teeth. He switched his position, leaning on his hand rather than on his elbow, arching even further, spreading his legs wider, propping his weight on his knees for better leverage, using his thighs to push your legs further apart as his eyes closed, chilly droplets of water falling on your face and your chest as he hammered into you, the tendons of his neck growing taut, his veins pulsing and growing and showing even in the dim red light.

Your high was there, right there, right…

Jeongguk roared, loud and aggressive and so, so angry that he sat on his heels and gripped your hips, shoving you on his length on and on, his hips meeting your body with loud smacks as he released inside you.

“No, no no. No, please no, please—” you begged as you felt him slow down, “So… close…” You sobbed as he stopped entirely.

He placed you down on the mattress. “Oh, no...” He said with faux compassion. “Poor cocksleeve.” He said with a sadistic grin, his smirk almost demonic in the crimson light.

He caged you with his body, his arms bulky and delicious at each side of your head, several rivulets of water — or maybe sweat — sliding down his face and chest. “Cocksleeves don’t get to cum, do they?” He asked rhetorically.

You whimpered and tried to squeeze him with your inner muscles.

“Or maybe I could be generous… Offer you another round…” He wondered, kissing your lips. “Would you like that?” He asked.

“Please. So close,” you whispered, chasing his mouth with yours.

He stretched and grabbed his pillow from the headboard, sliding an arm under your hips and lifting them up, placing the pillow right under your ass. “Do you need more lube, Candy?” He checked in on you, at which you shook your head.

“I just need you inside.” You replied miserably.

He pouted and got in position, cupping your jaw and sliding his thumb in your mouth. “Take it,” he said, his right hand pushing his cock in, only barely softened. Once he sank in and gave two tentative rolls of his hips, any sort of softness disappeared.

“Like this?” He asked, his nose curled adorably and sexily at the same time as his face scrunched at the effort of slow, deep thrusts.

You purred and shook your head. “Faster, harder… please.” You moaned before he started going even slower.

He chuckled. “What do I get in exchange for it?”

You opened your eyes and bit into his arm delicately. “Please,” you pleaded again. “I’m—” A tear rolled down your face. “It’s too good, let me cum, please, I love you. I’m your fuckdoll, Guk, please let me— I’ll be so tight around you, I’ll milk your cock so good, let me cum.”

He loved when you grew wobbly-lipped and teary-eyed. He loved seeing how desperate you always were for him, how much you depended on him for your pleasure.

He collected one of your tears with his lips, “are you crying for my cock?” He asked, wicked as usual.

You shook your head yes. “More, I’m begging you, Jeongguk. I’m begging you. I’m…” In an act of pettiness, you turned completely quiet, trying to rebel against him and his oversized ego. Self-sufficiently, your hands went to your boobs, grabbing them, pinching your nipples, sometimes climbing up to your throat and pressing against it softly.

He swatted your hand away, bending his mouth to your breast, tugging and suckling at your nipple messily, just as his arm grabbed your right knee and hooked it at his elbow, pushing your leg up, the angle so irresistible that your high finally peeked from around the corner. Still you stayed silent — mouth open, but quiet.

“Candy?” He called, curious about your sudden lack of noise.

You furrowed your brow and looked at him.

He tutted at himself. “Hard and fast?” He asked again.

You didn’t react. He rolled his hips deeper, hitting the spot you loved so much. Another tear spilled from your eye, but you proudly kept your stoic approach.

He smirked and started going faster, now that he had found the spot.

A small hiccup escaped your mouth.

“There we go, Candy.” He said, finally sure of his decision as he started pounding into you with everything he had in himself. “Touch your boobs, Candy.” He suggested as he saw you grow closer and closer. “So messy for this cock, uh? Whose is the best cock, Candy?”

“Yours.” You sobbed, your hips beginning to stutter, trying to meet his thrusts but too weak and sensitive for that.

“That’s right. You love this cock, Candy, don’t you?” He asked again.

“Only yours. I do, yes, please, Guk. Jeong— Guk, please I—” Your body thrashed against his as your orgasm finally caught you and drew you under.

Jeongguk’s head dove for your breastbone, pressing there as he tried to resist your high, currently threatening to drag him with itself.

As your climax persevered, he pushed your leg over his shoulder, picking up the other one too, sinking so deep with the new angle, his mouth kissing your calf, the inner side of your knee. “Is it good enough, baby?” He asked as he saw your eyes slowly flutter open.

Fuck, his jaw line was impeccable with that angle. “It’s perfect, Guk.”

“Nice, can you take another round, love?” He asked and damn, that nickname made you say yes, yes, ten thousand times yes with no hesitation.

He pushed his thumb in your mouth, against your tongue.

“I need to touch you.” He said, watching as his finger emerged drenched from your lips, immediately bringing it to your clit.

“Can you lift your ass?” He asked right as you obeyed, the angle so deep that he slowed down specifically to make sure he could guarantee you one more orgasm before he achieved his own.

His thumb replicated the motion of his tongue earlier in the shower, teasing the tender underside of your clit just as your eyes closed—

Too intense. Too much, you thought as your breathing slowed down again, your whole body focused on your kegels.

“Give me another… Work your magic, cockfairy.” He teased as your lips parted, your eyes flashing open before slowly, messily crossing and sliding shut again, your body too confused and overwhelmed to give a verbal reaction.

Jeongguk kept going, so, so close, his hips digging deeper with tiny rolls focused on staying in, enjoying every tight squeeze you had to offer, your hands leaving your breast as you tried to slap his hand away from your clit while his teeth began teasing your calf on one side, his deep moans unstoppable even when he turned to the other side and actually nibbled on your leg, his hand persistent in his torture.

“No. Oh god! Please. No! Oh— I need to— Yeah, yes...” You hissed as Jeongguk finally crumbled against your body and delivered the last few thrusts, deep, slow, so destructive as your head tipped back, your final high too much for your body to handle.

He looked down, where your bodies joined and with a loud growl, he came apart and spilled inside you, his cock swelling intermittently for so long he almost worried at some point. But the softness of your breasts, pillowing his head, and the warmth of your breath fanning over his head, your legs sliding off his shoulders, to his waist while your arms circled his back. “I love you, Candy. So damn much. I’m so in love with you baby.” He repeated on and on, trying to make up for each slur, each degrading word and idea he had used against you.

“I love you, baby.” He repeated again. “I love every little thing of you.” He kissed your breast — even though he truly aimed at the heart beating underneath. “I don’t want just the sex. You get it now?” He asked, nuzzling his hair against your bosom.

You caressed his head fondly.

“I get it now, of course, love.” You reassured him.

“You’ll lean on me, right? You’ll count on me?” He asked insecure, afraid at how many things he still had to learn about adult, mature relationships.

“I’ll lean on you. We’ll lean on each other.” You said, kissing his forehead as he raised his head.

“We didn’t finish the shower…” He mused, pulling out of your entrance carefully, staring as his seed dripped out of you and down your thigh.

You looked at his mesmerised expression.

He bit his lip before releasing it with a snap. “Fuck, you’re dripping.” He said before looking up.

And you don’t know if it was for the hot sight of his tattooed arm flexing, for his mop of damp long curls, for his wide, taut pectorals, for his lips glistening in drool or the dark lust in his eyes as he saw the mixture of his seed and your wetness oozing from your cunt, but you decided you were far from having enough.

“Didn’t they teach you to clean after yourself?” You teased with a cocked eyebrow.

His eyes climbed all the way to your gaze, finding the silent permission he was looking for.

And he dove for your cunt like a starving wolf.

#bangtanhq #thetruthuntoldnet #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x yn

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seijorhi · 3 years

Text

Meet the Parents

Not including the original anon (who was asking about Ushijima & Tendou) no less than four of you asked for a meet the parents scenario for each of the soulmate AU’s so...

TW implied dub/non-con

(Atsumu & Osamu’s will be posted tomorrow whoops 👉👈)

Outrunning Fate - Ushijima & Tendou

It begins with a phone call. Ushijima’s in your kitchen, fixing up the leftovers from the night before and Tendou has you trapped on the couch, long, gangly arms wrapped tight around your waist as he presses sloppy, open mouth kisses to your neck. He doesn’t stop when the phone rings - though you don’t miss the way his eyes narrow or the huff of disapproval that escapes him. He doesn’t like it when your attention wanders.

“Oh, hi dad.” You try to shove Tendou off of you without much success, glaring at him when he laughs and presses closer. “Um, now’s not a good time, can I call you back later?”

It shouldn’t have come as a surprise when Ushijima broaches the subject the next day. “We should meet your parents.”

You almost choke on your own spit.

“Why?”

It’s Tendou who answers, his grin just a little too wide. “We gotta meet the in-laws at some point!”

A shiver ripples down your spine at the suggestion. They absolutely do not.

“Um, we’re actually not all that close.” A lie. “There’s not really much point. They live a few hours away.” Twenty minutes, actually. “And besides, t-they don’t approve of me having...” you trail off, glancing pointedly at the twins marks on your skin.

Olive eyes bore into yours for a long, tense moment before they soften just a fraction, and he shrugs. “Okay.”

He tilts your face up into a kiss, and you allow yourself to breathe the tiniest sigh of relief.

You don’t want them anywhere near your family, especially not when you’re planning to run.

But it’s hard. Your parents are already worried about you pulling away. You haven’t told them about an of this, you don’t want them involved, but they’re nothing if not persistent. So you promise that you’ll come visit - carefully choosing a day that you know both Tendou and Ushijima will be busy. Skipping a few classes is the least of your troubles.

You should have learned by now that nothing is that easy where your soulmates are concerned.

“Babe?”

You’re sitting on the edge of your bed, waiting for them both to leave when Tendou emerges from the bathroom - your bathroom - shirt unbuttoned, holding out two ties in his hands.

“Which one do you think’ll go better with my suit - the blue or the red one? I wanna make a good first impression with your dad.”

And just like that, your hopes of being able to sneak away comes crumbling down around you.

There’s no use fighting it, not now.

It’s Ushijima who notices that your hands are shaking as he helps you out of the car he’s parked out front of your parents’ house. He pauses, eyebrows knitting together, his broad thumb brushing against the back of your hand in slow, reassuring strokes. “Tendou will behave, there is no need to worry.”

There’s a subtle quirking of his lips, and you think he might be trying to make a joke, but you can’t focus on that when you feel like you’re going to be sick. The man in question appears at your other side, hooking an arm around your shoulder and dragging you in for a kiss.

“Best behaviour, pinky promise!” he winks, as if he hadn’t spent the better part of the ride over musing about fucking you in you childhood bedroom.

You would honestly rather shove a needles into your eyes than go though with this, but the front door of your old house is already opening, your mother rushing down the driveway. What else can you do but smile and play along as she throws her arms around you in a tight hug?

They are merciless in front of your parents, or at least Tendou is. From introducing himself to your mother as one of your ‘soon to be husbands’ to whispering all of his perverted little fantasies into your ear whenever their backs are turned. You physically have to clamp down on his wrist when he tries to slide his hand up your skirt while you sit down at the table for lunch. Even then, it takes a low growl from your other soulmate before he truly relents.

And while your parents gush over Ushijima (a professional volleyball player!) he holds your hand in his, squeezing just a little too tight whenever your smile slips. Neither of them have mentioned the fact that you’d lied to them, and judging from the slow burning heat in Ushijima’s eyes when he glances your way, you can only assume that that punishment is still to come.

You hate having them there. It’s your home, something good and wholesome and safe that their very presence corrupts. You hate listening to your mother coo over how good the three of you look together, the respectful nod your father gives when the conversation inevitably shifts to sports. You hate listening to them tell the story of how you met, warping it to make it sound cute - consensual - but the nail in the coffin is your parents chuckling when Ushijima brings up how stubborn you were initially.

You quickly excuse yourself to the bathroom, muffling your sobs in one of the big fluffy towels.

You hate them, you think as you stare into the mirror, wiping the silvery tear tracks from your face, trying to erase all signs of your impromptu breakdown.

You hate them for making you play along, but you can’t hide in the bathroom forever.

“Oh, sweetheart,” your mother murmurs, cupping your face in her hands as she catches you on your way out. You must be a better actor than you thought, because of instead of the panicked frown you expect as she studies your face, she just smiles warmly at you. “I’m so happy for you. All that worrying, trying to squash it all down and pretend that they didn’t exist... and you finally found them. Honey, you’ve done well for yourself. I can see how much they adore you!”

She glances over to your soulmates chatting with your father, and you follow her gaze, heart sinking. “Yeah,” you manage to reply, offering her a weak smile in return.

If only she knew.

Like Nobody Else - Oikawa & Iwaizumi

What was the point in setting boundaries you knew would be broken?

After staying behind to watch them practice that first day, you swore that you wouldn’t go back. It didn’t matter that the volleyball club all knew, it didn’t matter that that meant that soon enough the whole school would know - you wouldn’t go back there with them. They could drag you off to go sit with them and their friends at lunch times, ambush you on your way to classes, but you wouldn’t let them fuck you in the locker rooms before hand, and you weren’t going to sit in those stands and pretend that you cared while they ran through endless training drills.

Yet when you shouldered your bag after the final bell the very next day, you only manage to make it a few steps down the hallway before strong hands are yanking it away from you.

“Wrong way, cutie,” Oikawa beams innocently, while Iwaizumi merely lifts a brow when you open your mouth to object. He’s holding your bag, and you have a sneaking suspicion that he won’t give it back until you agree to follow them.

“Oh my god, he’s carrying her bag for her, they’re literally so sweet!” you hear one girl gush to her friend as the three of you breeze past, and Oikawa reaches across to intertwine his larger hand with yours.

“Aren’t we just?” he asks you with a charming grin.

Iwaizumi scoffs, “You’re not carrying jack shit, asshole.”

“Rude, Iwa!”

You don’t say a word. What’s the point?

It doesn’t come as a surprise when they make you stay back with them, long after the rest of the team has gone left. They’re not as rough this time, but your legs still feel like jelly by the time they’re both finished with you. Oikawa still wipes away your tears while Iwa helps you to your feet, pressing a gentle kiss against the crown of your head that makes everything worse.

They walk you home, both taking turns to kiss you goodbye on your doorstep, and you can only thank your lucky stars that your parents are both out so you don’t have to try and explain.

It becomes a routine during the week - on the days that they train you stay back with them and they dutifully escort you home, and on Monday’s when they don’t have practice, you’re either dragged with Oikawa to Lil tykes or forced to join Iwaizumi with whatever he planned on doing. Usually studying, though sometimes he’ll drag Makki and Mattsun (and on occasion, Mad Dog) out to train with him regardless.

Your weeks belong to them, you’ve resigned yourself to that - but your weekends are yours.

Or so you’d let yourself believe.

You ignore the text messages that flood your phone one Saturday morning, only for a persistent knocking at your front door to shatter the calm of your weekend only a few hours later. Your better instincts would tell you to ignore it, because you know (or have a good enough idea at least) exactly who’s behind it, but the fear that trickles down your spine urges you forward anyway. They tell you they love you, but you know better than to believe that that means they won’t ever hurt you - that they haven’t already hurt you.

“Hey, cutie. Mind if we come in?”

You don’t know why Oikawa bothers asking, because you barely have time to open your mouth to answer before he’s ducking under your outstretched arm and waltzing inside, Iwaizumi right on his heels.

“You weren’t answering your phone, so we figured we’d come and check up on our pretty girl, right Iwa? We were worried.”

The latter grunts in acknowledgement, studying at you with narrowed eyes - an expression that makes your stomach flip uncomfortably.

“O-oh, my um, my parents aren’t home...”

The words slip out before you can stop them, and your heart skips a beat as your soulmates share a look, the grin on Oikawa’s face widening. “We’ll be on our best behaviour, we promise.”

But somehow ending up squished between them on the couch in your living room, watching some movie you’re barely paying attention to wasn’t quite what you expected. Sure, Oikawa’s mouthing greedily at your neck, and you haven’t missed the way Iwa’s hand has been slowly creeping up your shirt for the past ten minutes, but considering what you know they’re capable of - you’ll take it.

Yet you can’t force yourself to relax, not with the heat of their bodies pressed so close. You shift in your seat, your hand accidentally grazing against something hard and as you freeze in panic, Iwa stiffens, his breath catching with an audible hiss.

But it’s Oikawa, eyes hooded and wanting, who tilts your chin up to meet his gaze, “Baaaaby-”

You don’t get to hear the rest of that sentence, because at that moment your front door swings open once more, only this time it’s your parents.

There’s a quiet ‘fuck’ growled in your ear as the three of you scramble to right yourselves, your heart beating a mile a minute, feeling very much like a kid caught with your hand in the cookie jar.

Never mind that you didn’t want this - never asked for it.

It’s your mother, mid-way through a conversation with your dad, who steps into the living room first, stilling at the sight that awaits her. Your eyes are wide, hands are clenched into fists in your lap as she stares at you for a painfully long moment, “Sweetheart,” she begins slowly, her voice sounding a little strained, “why are there two strange boys in the house?”

And for one single, shining second, you wonder whether it would be worth the trouble you’d land yourself in if you told her that they’d come over with the intention of hooking up with you - it wasn’t exactly a lie. Oh, your parents would be fuming, but at least you’d be safe in the knowledge that they’d never, ever let either of your soulmates anywhere near the house again. Maybe they might even insist on you changing schools altogether! But before you can actually entertain the thought, Iwa’s reaching across to subtly grab your hand, squeezing it tightly with a warning look. Don’t you dare.

Oikawa, as always, chooses that moment to step in and take control. “Ah, please forgive the rude intrusion, Mrs L/N. I’m Oikawa Tooru, and this is Iwaizumi Hajime, I’m assuming your lovely daughter has mentioned us?”

If you weren’t distinctly aware you’d pay dearly for it later, you might have snorted at that. Your mother frowns, folding her arms across her chest and quirking an eyebrow, but it’s your father, glaring outright at the two interlopers, who replies. “She has not.”

A shiver ripples down your spine at the chilling look Oikawa shoots you out of the corner of his eye. “Huh, I guess our little cutie’s still a bit shy. Well, never mind that. We’re her soulmates, and...”

It doesn’t even matter what the rest of his sentence is. Your parents hear the words ‘soulmates’, look at the two handsome, charming young men either side of you and all but melt. Suddenly it’s warm smiles and welcoming hugs. Your parents are delighted, and all it’s all too easy for both Iwa and Oikawa to slip into the roles they’re expected to play.

They spend almost an hour chatting with the two, and it hurts more than you care to admit when you look up into your mother’s beaming face and she gives you a wink. This is all she’s ever wanted for you - two handsome, strong boys to take care of her little girl. You can’t break her heart with the truth, you can only sit there quietly as they gush over you, pretend that it doesn’t make your skin crawl when Oikawa looks at you with those soft, adoring eyes and tells your dad that from the moment you spoke to him, they both knew they loved you.

‘Why won’t you two just leave me the hell alone?!’

Eventually your parents leave the three of you alone, letting you go back to your movie, and only then can you let that facade slip.

“Well that went better than expected,” Iwaizumi states, dragging you back down to settle on the couch with him, Oikawa plopping down on your other side and pulling you close.

He hums in agreement, a glint of something mischievous dancing in his eyes as he traces a single finger up your side. “Of course it went well. What’s not to love?”

#BD drabbles #hoo boy these turned out longer than expected #yandere haikyuu #tw non con #tw dub con #it's all implied though nothing terribly spicy #i spent so long on these i hope y'all actually enjoy them

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thinkingisadangerouspastime · 4 years

Note

By the end of avatar it's pretty clear that the gaang have no problem with/are friends with mai (suki playing pai sho with her, katara watching, sokka including her in his picture) so I was wondering how you think mai and the gaang's relationship developed from the coronation to the end scene

“This is Mai,” Zuko said. “My girlfriend.”

The room was quiet enough to hear a pin drop.

Right. Mai kind of wanted to die. They were just… staring at her. She hadn’t expected a positive reaction, by any means, but no reaction at all…? Ugh. Little was worse.

“It’s nice to officially meet you!” Aang said, giving her a bright smile. The rest of the group followed with tentative waves and a few nods in her general direction.

The awkwardness might have gone on another five minutes if she and Zuko hadn’t been asked for by an advisor, cutting her introduction short. Well, Zuko had been asked for, and he’d slipped his hand into hers before pulling her along. So she hadn’t been given much say in the matter.

“They’ll come around,” Zuko told her later, when they were lying in bed. “You’ll see.” He chuckled, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. “They took me in, after all.”

Mai wanted to believe him. “If you say so.”

Sokka was first.

Mai saw him struggling to walk down the steps of the palace, awkwardly attempting to maneuver his crutches but wincing every time his injured leg hit the ground.

“Let me help,” she offered, lifting his arm around her shoulders to help take the weight off his foot. Perhaps she should have waited for him to give confirmation, but in some ways Sokka reminded her of Zuko - rarely willing to accept assistance, even when he needed it. He let her take his crutches, though, and she interpreted that as a sign of silent cooperation.

Sokka gave her a crooked grin when they’d reached the foot of the steps. “Thanks.”

She nodded curtly, returning his crutches to him. “It was no trouble.” She turned to walk away, but stiffened and stopped in her tracks as Sokka placed a hand on her shoulder.

“I, uh… This is kind of random, but I just wanted to tell you how grateful I am for - for what you did at the Boiling Rock.” Sokka cleared his throat. “For saving us. Me. My dad. Suki. Zuko.”

Mai winced at the memory. The despair, the rage Azula’s eyes. The paralyzing fear that had ripped through her chest when she’d watched her friend - if Azula could ever be called that - drop into her lightning stance. And yet…

She’d do it again. A hundred times.

“I don’t think you should be thanking me for doing the right thing,” Mai said as she slowly turned around. “For doing the bare minimum, really.”

Sokka laughed. “Maybe you’re right. But from what I’ve heard, treason against the Fire Nation isn’t usually considered the bare minimum.” He hesitated, then offered her a grateful smile. “I mean it, though. If you hadn’t saved us…” Something akin to grief flickered in his eyes. An expression that was a little more raw, a little more tired. “I can’t lose anyone else,” he finally said. “So thank you, Mai.”

Mai stared at him in perhaps more shock than was necessary, because Sokka laughed again.

“Can I hug you?” he asked. “It’s kind of an official thing to dub you as part of my friend group.”

Mai hesitated, but nodded, and Sokka shuffled forward to pull her into a brief, tight embrace that Mai was surprised to find herself returning.

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as a hugger,” she said after releasing him.

Sokka chuckled. “For a long time, I guess I wasn’t.” He winked at her. “But things change, right?”

She supposed they did.

Aang was second.

Mai wondered, perhaps, if he would have been first, had his duties as the Avatar not taken up so much of his time, especially in those first days after the war had formally ended.

“Hi, Mai!” Aang said cheerily, waving at her from atop his bison. “Want to take a ride on Appa with me?”

Mai glanced around her, as if someone else named Mai would appear from behind a pillar to take him up on his offer. When none did, she responded with a hesitant nod.

She wished Zuko was there.

“Do you need help getting up?” Aang asked as she walked towards him, pausing when she reached Appa’s side. “I can provide a boost if you need it.”

Mai raised an eyebrow at him, a smirk unwittingly inching onto her lips. “Could you provide a boost even if I don’t need it?”

Aang returned her smirk with a wide grin. “Your wish is my command, Lady Mai.”

Mai was mortified to admit that a startled yelp escaped her lips as Aang airbended her up and onto Appa’s saddle, but he didn’t comment on it. She supposed he was probably used to that sort of sound being an instinctive reaction.

“Ready?” Aang asked. He didn’t wait for her to respond before gently snapping the bison’s reins. “Yip yip, Appa!”

He reminded her of Ty Lee in that respect - never waiting for an answer unless one was truly required.

Appa roared and took off into the sky. Mai kept her eyes squeezed shut for longer than she’d care to admit.

After the initial anxiety of flying higher than she ever had in her life faded, Mai found herself relaxing into her seat on the saddle, one elbow resting comfortably on the edge. Aang chattered aimlessly about post-war plans, and Mai commented every now and then if his ramblings had to do with Zuko. It was… strange. Everything about Aang caused a tiny smile to rest perpetually on her face.

No wonder her boyfriend was so fond of him.

“Wanna go higher?” Aang offered at one point, an excited twinkle in his eyes.

Mai didn’t respond at first, staring upwards at the endless pink sky. “Can you take me into the clouds?” she finally asked.

Aang laughed. “Let’s find out!”

Katara was third.

“I told you, Zuko can’t see anyone right now!”

Mai paused upon hearing the irritation that drenched Katara’s voice. She’d just turned the corner into the hallway that Zuko’s room was off of, and, trusting her better judgement, chose to hang back.

Katara was staring down a tall man in formal robes - oh. Ew. Mai recognized him as one of Zuko’s more annoying advisors. Her boyfriend hated the man, too.

“Kata-”

“Master Katara.” She glared at the noble, and respect bubbled in Mai’s chest.

“Master Katara.” Mai relished in the discomfort of the man’s tone. “I understand that you wish to allow the Fire Lord as much rest as possible, but he has responsibilities he cannot abandon -”

“Zuko can’t fulfill those responsibilities immediately after a healing session!” Katara snapped. “How would you like if someone bandaged your broken arm and expected you to lift weights afterwards?”

The advisor stared at her in confusion. “But my arm isn’t broken.”

Katara placed her hand atop the flask that rested on her hip. “Not yet.”

Mai bit her tongue to stop herself from laughing as blood drained from the man’s face. He gave Katara a hasty apology and took his leave.

That interaction had certainly raised her spirits.

But no visitors…

Mai’s grip tightened on the ceramic plate in her hands. The cup of tea resting atop it quivered. If Katara said Zuko wasn’t seeing anyone at the time, then she would respect that decision. She was no exception to the rules just because Zuko was her boyfriend.

Besides, Zuko was probably fine. She didn’t need to check on him, she was just letting her worries get the best of her again -

“Mai?”

Mai blinked upon hearing her name called. Blood rushed to her cheeks when she realized it was Katara who had spoken. “Yes?”

Katara gave her a warm smile, gesturing towards the plate in her hands. “Is that for Zuko?”

Mai hesitated, but nodded. “Tea,” she explained briefly. “I… tried to make it like Iroh does.” She took a step backwards. “But I can bring it back later, after more time has passed -”

Katara laughed, waving her hand dismissively. “Mai. Zuko would never forgive me if I didn’t let you in.” She tilted her head. “Besides. You know you’re always welcome.”

Mai’s grip on the plate slackened, and she found herself returning Katara’s smile.

Toph was fourth.

“Mai! Spar with me!”

Mai was startled by the sudden interruption, though years of practice prevented her from showing it. “Why?” She’d never been the earthbender’s go-to partner before.

“Because knives are made of metal,” Toph said, as if it should have been obvious. “I want to see if I can bend projectiles mid-air. Or at least better detect the path they’ll follow so I can earthbend a wall to block them.”

Mai raised an eyebrow. “And why would I agree to let you bend my knives?”

Toph grinned at her. “Who said anything about using yours?”

Mai’s eyes widened as Toph procured a large box from behind her back.

“We’ll practice with these. Don’t ask where I got them.”

Mai accepted the box from Toph, unable to stop the sharp gasp that escaped her lips as she admired the assortment of blades. “Alright,” she finally said, picking out a set of steel kunai. “I’ll spar with you. On one condition.”

“Name it.”

Mai spun one of the knives around her index finger. “Let me keep some of these when we’re done.”

Toph burst out laughing. “Oh, I knew I’d like you.” She smirked at Mai. “You’ve got yourself a deal.”

Suki was last.

They’d run into each other. Literally. Mai spilled all the papers she’d been holding, and Suki had immediately apologized before offering to help her sort back through them. She’d almost turned the girl down, but…

“I haven’t seen you much,” Mai commented as they were putting the documents into piles based on their contents. “Compared to the rest of Zuko’s friends, I mean.”

Suki shrugged. “I’ve been spending most of my time with Sokka and the Kyoshi warriors. We’re thinking about heading back home soon.”

Mai nodded. She placed a document about the differences between crowning a Fire Lord and a Fire Lady in its appropriate stack. She hesitated, then asked, “Does… Do you know if Ty Lee plans to go with you?”

Suki blew air out her lips. “I’m not sure. Sometimes I think she wants nothing more than to get out of the Fire Nation, but there are other days where… where I don’t think she can imagine leaving you and Zuko behind.”

Mai’s heart seized in her chest. Spirits, she needed to talk to her friend. New responsibilities after the war had kept them apart more days of the week than Mai liked. “I see.”

Suki offered her a sympathetic smile. “Sorry I can’t be more specific. I think I just” - she shook her head - “I don’t know Ty Lee well enough yet to read her and her feelings. The other girls had a chance to connect with her in prison, but I’d already escaped the Boiling Rock and was on the run with Sokka at that point, so I just… don’t have the same level of experience with her yet.”

Mai clenched the scroll in her hand so tightly she was half-concerned she’d tear a hole through it. “Speaking of prisons…” She licked her lips, her mouth having suddenly gone dry. “I… I wanted to apologize,” she continued after a momentary pause. Mai didn’t like how her voice had dropped close to a whisper.

Suki tilted her head in confusion, though there was a keen recognition in her eyes that made Mai wonder if she was merely feigning puzzlement. “What do you mean?”

“I attacked you and your - your kinswomen. When you were protecting Appa.” Mai smoothed the scroll across the table before placing it in its appropriate stack. She didn’t dare meet the warrior’s eyes. “We got you arrested and sent to the Boiling Rock. And - I know an apology doesn’t make up for that, but…” She forced herself to look upwards. There was no bitterness, no resentment in Suki’s gaze. It was kinder than she deserved. “I’m sorry. I don’t deserve or expect your forgiveness, but - I’m sorry.”

Mai had hurt Suki the most among Zuko’s new friends. There was no changing that. And she knew she would never be able to make up for the months in isolation the girl had endured, either, no matter what she did. No matter how much she wanted to. Wished she could.

Mai didn’t blame her for staying silent.

Then Suki sighed, unfurling the paper in her hands. “I had mixed feelings about you. For a long time.” She skimmed something on the scroll before placing it aside. “On the one hand, you put me in prison. On the other…” She gave Mai a tentative smile. “You freed me from it.”

Mai’s heart skipped a beat. “That doesn’t make it fair -”

Suki laughed, cutting her off. “At this point, I don’t think ‘fair’ exists. Not after what all of us have been through.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “But like I said. I had mixed feelings about you.” She gave Mai a soft smile. “I know how Sokka thinks you’re the funniest person to walk the Earth since his father. How Katara lets you visit Zuko after their healing sessions, even though she’s probably not supposed to. And spirits, Mai, the way Zuko looks at you…” She shook her head, winking at her. “You won my friends over a long time ago. It was only a matter of time before you won me over, too.”

An unfamiliar warmth settled in Mai’s chest, and a tentative smile inched onto her lips. “Thank you.”

Suki waved her hand dismissively. “Don’t mention it. And with you around, at least I won’t be the only sane person in our group anymore.”

Mai snorted, recalling an earlier incident of Sokka daring Zuko to eat raw tart batter while Toph egged them on. ‘Egged’ in two ways - both very different, but both equally frustrating. “Will that really make much of a difference?”

Suki snickered. “Maybe not for them, but…” She handed Mai a scroll to be placed on a stack too far for her to reach. “I think I’ll appreciate the company.”

Mai accepted the paper, and she smiled at Suki. “I think I will, too.” She placed the smoothed-out scroll in its appropriate pile. “Care to join me for a game of Pai Sho later?”

“Oh, count me in! That sounds like a great cooldown.”

Well… Mai wouldn’t describe Pai Sho in exactly that fashion. But she figured Suki would learn that on her own time, and chose not to comment. “I look forward to it.”

That night, Mai slipped into Zuko’s bedchambers under the cover of darkness, as she’d been inclined to do ever since his return to the Fire Nation. Zuko’s eyes lit up upon seeing her, and he moved to make room for her beside him on his bed. She sat down, and rolled her eyes but didn’t protest as Zuko wrapped his arms around her waist to pull her into his lap.

“Did you have a good day?” he asked, nuzzling his face into the back of her neck. He asked her the same question every night, and every night she told him the same answer - no. Then she’d gripe about whatever little thing had irked her over the course of the day. It was foolish, yet cathartic, and she knew Zuko didn’t mind. He probably found it entertaining.

“You know what?” Mai mused, thinking back to the mixture of glee and exasperation that had crossed Suki’s face numerous times during their earlier Pai Sho game. “I think I did.”

Zuko raised an eyebrow. “Wow. What happened?”

Mai shrugged. Five faces floated through her mind, all people she’d grown to care for over the past few weeks. People who’d grown to care for her in return. “Nothing special. Just… spent a little time with some new friends.”

Zuko chuckled, and she had a feeling he knew exactly the people she was referring to. “I’m glad to hear it.” He pressed a kiss to the nape of her neck. “Don’t kill me, but…” She didn’t need to turn around to know he was smirking. “I told you they’d come around.”

Mai groaned. “Oh, shut up.”

“Make me?”

She sighed, turning around so she could properly face her boyfriend. “I guess I don’t have a choice, do I?”

(Mai made sure to silence him before he could answer.)

556 notes · View notes

bbrandy2002 · 3 years

Text

Fool’s Rush In -- Chapter 16

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Liam x MC

Warning: Some language, mild sexual talk

Since it’s been awhile since I last posted an update, in the previous chapter Madeleine had confronted Riley with a video after she left the ball.

Thank you @burnsoslow for the preread and beta.

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

Riley sat on a leather bench at the foot of the bed with a television remote held loosely between her hands, folded in her lap.

Somehow her worn-out body managed to walk from the corridor after the encounter with Madeleine, up the many stairs of the quarters she shared with Liam and to their bedroom. The shock of the situation combined with exhaustion and throbbing pain in her lower back was secondary to the fear she felt at possibly giving up the man she loved.

With trembling hands, she had slipped the DVD into the player and watched her nightmare play out on the screen -- It was all true. Madeleine acquired an illicit video of Riley and her ex-husband that the Queen had no clue was recorded of her or existed.

Her thumb grazed over the pause button several times, but she knew pressing it wouldn’t stop the hurt and embarrassment she felt at that moment at watching her former husband violating her trust and privacy. It wouldn’t stop Madeleine from releasing the video of it to the press and public. And it wouldn't stop the love she felt for Liam -- no one was powerful enough to take that feeling away from her.

But it was those words Madeleine threatened her with that got equal consideration with that video in Riley’s mind. She tried to envision how the scenario would carry out if the video was released and for those who would be affected by it: her father, her friends, her former students.

Liam.

“It’s a shame that he’ll lose his reign, all because of you.”

“Would you really do that to Liam?”

“Do you genuinely believe you’re worth all the trouble it will cause him?”

Riley hit the pause button, her hands flying up to cover her tear-laden face as she bent over in sobs, shaking her head. She was wrestling with that inner voice, replaying Madeleine’s words like a broken record while struggling to remember everything Liam told her about trusting him and his love for her.

No matter how hard she tried to let his tender voice speak to that sacred place in her heart, Madeleine’s threats and taunts were getting the best of her. If there was even a slight possibility that the Countess was right, and Liam would get dragged through the mud in all of this, then there was no question what needed to be done.

Those scattered bricks that formed the walls she came to Cordonia with, the ones Liam had broken down, were quickly stacking up again, one on top of the other. If something didn’t happen soon, Riley would be surrounded and suffocated inside that impenetrable cocoon that initially caused herself to doubt her worthiness to him in the first place.

All of those insecurities and fears crept up faster than a flooded riverbank, and she felt powerless to stop it from rising. Even if she could, she’d never allow Liam to suffer the consequences of something she had the power to prevent. To hell with whatever happened to her, but not him. He saved her weeks ago, and as her teary gaze slid from her hands to the wardrobe closet across the room, this would be her way of saving him.

Riley picked up the remote from her lap and tossed it aside. Determined to get out of the palace and Cordonia before anyone could see her, she swallowed her anger and grief and swiped a knuckle under each eye to dry the tears shed.

She rose to her feet faster than she should have, feeling an intense shock of pain that began in her hip and shot down to her feet. There were no doubts that the fall from struggling with Madeleine injured her far worse than she wanted to admit to herself. With a shrieking whimper, she ground her teeth together and doubled over, feeling like she might faint.

Riley grasped her back and gave herself a second to breathe through the pain before straightening up and staggering to her wardrobe to pack whatever she could as quickly as possible.

_____________

Liam stepped off the dance floor with Olivia's arm curled through his and escorted her back to their table. The conclusion of the ball was nearly upon him, and most guests had already stopped on their way out to say their farewells and offer congratulatory well-wishes. When they'd ask about the Queen's whereabouts, he'd tell them she had something come up that needed her attention. No one dared press him on the issue.

Checking the time on his watch, Liam looked up as Maxwell ran over with his phone in hand and dropped into a seat. He looked curiously at the out of breath Beaumont and asked, "What's going on, Maxwell?"

"Sorry," he replied before plucking a flute of champagne from a passing server's tray and gulping it down quickly. Wiping the droplets that dribbled from his mouth to his chin off with the back of his hand, he panted. "I ran here as fast as I could. I just got a text message from Drake. He's heading back soon."

"Did he say what the results of the paternity test were?" Olivia asked.

Maxwell nodded. "Yeah. They're Bastien's for sure. Las Vegas officials are allowing Drake to leave, but they've detained Bas until he pays up the $200,000 he owes to Boom Boom. Drake's return flight is scheduled to leave tomorrow morning, Cordonia time."

Liam pulled out his wallet and tossed $100 at a smug Leo, who promptly counted them out and stuffed the bills into his pocket. "I told you those little dudes weren't mine, bro. Really, your doubt in me hurts."

"I'll admit you were right, Leo. But you do have a track record when it comes to being involved in weird stuff like this."

"Yeah, I've gotten myself into some pretty hairy shit a time or two," he laughed as the memories came to him. "Ahh, good times, good times. But, y'know, it wasn't always just fun and games with me, Liam. During those few occasions when I'd show up to train on being the top dog of this place, Father taught me several valuable lessons. Wanna know what they were?"

"Not really," Liam answered dryly, then tossed back the rest of his scotch to prepare himself. "But I assume you're going to tell me anyway."

"Damn right I am! This is good shit to know, straight from the Big Kahuna himself." He leaned forward and lowered his voice. "You must never tell anyone what I'm about to share with you all. This is top secret, classified Cordonian shit we're talking about; lives are on the line here. Father would be pissed if --"

"Just spit it out already!" Olivia snapped.

"Alright, first, never jizz in a jacuzzi unless you want to be covered in a thin spiderweb-like amalgamation of your own gravy. Daddio said he learned the hard way on that one ..."

"Oh, God. Leo!" Sickened, Liam dropped his head.

" ... Next, when you kiss a woman's hand, do it on the thumb side. Most people scratch their asses with their fingers, but rarely their thumbs. I might be an exception to the rule on that one." Leo chuckled to himself. "And lastly ... Rys spermies are MEAN sons-of-bitches, and we should dip my balls in a mug of hot water every day to kill them before having sex."

"What the hell?" Olivia grimaced as she lowered her coffee mug away from her lips and pushed it away.

"My dad told me the same thing," Maxwell boasted. "Except he called them Beaumont spermies. I guess he heard the same story from someone different than your dad."

Liam lowered the hands that were covering his face and breathed out heavily, "Leo, did our father ever teach you about anything other than using protection and sex during these meetings? Anything about negotiations, taxes, treaties ..."

Leo considered him for a moment. "Nope. He said you'd do all that stuff."

Liam grumbled. "Of course he did."

Olivia looked between Leo and Maxwell and scowled. "Well, it's too bad neither of your fathers took their own advice." She grabbed her clutch from the table. "At least I'll rest easier knowing the two of you aren't reproducing. Now, if you'll excuse me."

"I'll walk out with you, Liv." Liam rose and left the ballroom, having had more than enough of his fill of Leo for the night. There was also an incredibly sexy woman upstairs he'd been dreaming of pleasing all day, and he was overly eager to make good on his promise to join her shortly.

______________

Liam made his way through the residential wing and down the long hallway to his quarters. While undoing his tie, he stopped midway when he noticed a vase that usually sat on a decorative table along the wall, tipped over on its side with bundles of long-stemmed roses littered on the ground around it.

As he stooped down to pick them up, he found it oddly peculiar -- they didn't just fall over like this on their own. If a member of the staff had knocked them over, they would have picked them up; he felt certain Riley would have, as well.

After rearranging the flowers in the vase and situating them back on the table, Liam removed his key card from his pocket and swiped it through the key fob next to the door.

"Riley! I'm home," he called out in a sensual tone, knowing she was most likely upstairs -- hopefully naked and ready to get her ass spanked -- and wouldn't have heard him.

Taking a moment to check his reflection in the entryway mirror, Liam smoothed back his hair and tested his breath against his palm, satisfied he was good. After a quick stop in the kitchen to grab a can of whipped cream and chocolate sauce, Liam ascended the stairs, two at a time, to his bedroom.

"Daddy's ready for his dessert ..." his exuberant voice trailed off as the sultry smirk he donned quickly faded away when he walked into an empty room. "Riley?"

Glancing around the bedroom, the en suite door was still open, and the light was off, so he knew she wasn't in there. The bed was still in pristine form and didn't look touched. He wasn't at all worried; Riley likely went for a snack, even though that thought seemed rather odd considering how adamant she was about returning to their quarters earlier.

Liam placed the toppings on a side table and slipped out his phone. He plopped down on the bench at the foot of their bed, thinking maybe he'd missed a message or call from her.

There was nothing.

He scratched his head; it wasn't like Riley not to mention to him if she'd gone somewhere, not that she had to. But in this case, she knew he'd be up soon. Thinking about the overturned vase Liam walked upon, something started to not sit well with him.

With the cell still in his hand, he pulled her contact information up. Just as he was about to hit the dial button, he heard "Liam" in a low, raspy voice.

Relief washed over him as he stood and put his phone away. "Love, you worried me. Everything okay?" Her face was ashen, and her eyes red and swollen. Liam's insides immediately clinched.

Riley didn't answer as Liam crossed the room, frantically approaching her, worry engraved on his features. “Riley, love, what’s wrong? What happened?” His eyes were desperately searching for any clue as to what was clearly something wrong with his wife.

She held out her hand, preventing him from coming too close. “Please ... don’t.”

Bewildered, he asked, “What are you doing, sweetheart?”

Riley turned her head away somberly; she couldn't bear to look at him. She had planned to get out of the palace before he returned from the ball; there was no way she would be able to face him. Liam would want an explanation that she couldn't give him. But when she got to the car, Riley noticed there was something important she forgot to give back to him, and there was no way she would take it. Maybe somewhere inside, even if she couldn't admit it, she needed to see him and do this right. “I ... have to go.” Her words were barely audible.

Liam's brows bumped together. “Go? You’re going somewhere this late? But you were tired before --”

“No,” Her head shook faster than she realized before she spat the rest out. “I’m leaving Cordonia. I’m returning to Las Vegas, and I’m not coming back.”

“Riley? What the hell is going on? You were fine and having a good time 30 minutes ago, and now, all of a sudden, you want to go back to Nevada. What am I missing here? Does this have something to do with what happened at dinner? Because I told you --”

“You’re not missing anything. I came here to prevent you from marrying Madeleine, and I did that. That was the agreement, and now ... I’m going home.”

Liam started to laugh and wagged his finger at her. “Leo put you up to pranking me? He's mad about me sending that damn monkey away and is trying to get me back, right? Because if he did, that's just … just heartless. And I don’t find it funny.”

“No, Liam.." She shook her head again. "Leo didn’t put me up to this, and it's not a prank.” Riley carefully pulled off the wedding bands she came back to give him and held them out to him.

He looked at them and gritted his teeth. “Put them back on,” he commanded.

“I can’t do that, Liam. They belonged to your mother, and I’m not taking something so sentimental with me back to Vegas.”

“You’re damn right you're not taking them back to Vegas with you because you’re not going!”

“I am.”

“No, you’re not!”

Riley choked out into a wispy sob, “I’m so sorry, Liam. I'm so sorry!”

He said nothing as he stared at her in disbelief and saw that she was serious. “Why?” He asked as his throat clenched and the first tear slipped down his cheek.

Her body felt leaden, never having seen him this shattered. “Liam, I just want to go home, okay? I mean ... this has been an amazing experience, and I’ll never forget it, but I miss my home, and my job, and my friends ..."

“Fuck your home! I’ll buy you one here that looks just like it. Visit your friends all you want ... hell, bring them here if you want to; I don’t care. That's NOT what's going on! There’s something you’re not telling me. And I want to know, NOW!”

Riley startled at his yell, wanting to hold him and make it better. “Liam, I don’t want to be in Cordonia anymore, or be the Queen, or live in this palace. I want to go home.”

He motioned around the room.“THIS is your home, Riley ... Cordonia. I’m your home! This palace is your home." Liam scrubbed a frustrated hand furiously over his face. "Again, you were fine 30 minutes ago. What changed between you leaving the ball and coming up here? You're not telling the truth for some reason, but I can’t figure out why. Did I do something to upset you? Did someone else do something to upset you?"

"No!" she responded expeditiously.

"I love you, Riley. You know that, right?" She nodded; the glisten in his blue eyes and the desperation in his trembling voice was destroying her willpower. "Do you … still love me?"

Riley slammed her eyes shut. She loved him with every fiber of her being, and to tell him so in this very moment would only serve to prolong this hellacious situation. The only way to protect him from losing everything -- in her mind -- was to let him go. He would fight her on this, and it broke her heart to see the pain and confusion in his eyes, but it had to be done.

“Do. You. Love. Me?” he enunciated his question once more. The struggle and agony on her face were evident to him.

Riley turned away from Liam and faced the door. Did she have it in her to answer that question with a lie?

"... the council will have no choice but to question Liam's decision-making abilities after not only squandering his pick of a queen on some American nobody but now one whose ass will be featured on the desktops of teenage boys across the world. It's a shame he'll lose his reign, all because of you. Would you really do that to Liam? Are you worth the trouble?"

The sadness crushed her. There was no other way to protect him. Riley swiped at her face and answered firmly.

“No.”

With that, the Queen walked out, leaving the King in an empty room with his shock, his confusion, and an unimaginable pain he'd never get over.

-----------

Tags:

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko @callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow @jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @ofpixelsandscribbles @alyssalauren @monsoonblooms12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @yourmajesty09 @natureblooms24 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisseur @kat-tia801 @debramcg1106 @shewillreadyou @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer

Liam x MC: @cordonia-gothqueen

Fools Rush In tags: @narrytheworld @queenwalton @cordonianprincess @zaffrenotes @zilch3 @drrookie @sfb123 @secretaryunpaid

#fools rush in #Liam x mc #liam x riley #king liam #the royal romance #trr #choices trr #prince liam #bbrandy2002

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isthisthingeven0n · 4 years

Text

nothing left to give : s.r

just wanted to put this out there. it’s been a while since i’ve posted, and this is something.

you’re worn out, unsure whether the bau is your home after all. but the resident genuis won’t stand for that, especially when there’s things still unsaid between you both (2.5K)

It wasn’t as subtle as you hoped it to be. Then again, you should have known better working with a team of profilers who you consider family. Meaning in some sense, this wasn’t something that would’ve stayed hidden for long.

Initially, you just felt your eyes losing focus on case files. You’d been in California for two weeks on a case, resulting in a hefty amount of paperwork and the time difference combined threw you off, but it was meant to pass.

Except it didn’t.

You were beginning to get restless, waves of tiredness hitting you like a brick wall during office hours and Spencer was the first to catch on. Whenever you would leave your desk and later return you’d find a new mug of coffee, freshly brewed for you along with a small smile from across the room as you looked over in appreciation.

Convinced you had simply caught some kind of bug, you took a day off to rest. Yet, one day turned into three and once you returned, Spencer’s eyes widened at the sight that greeted him.

“Is that any way to greet your best friend, huh, Spence?” JJ chuckles, walking in behind you as she rests her hand on your shoulder, catching your gaze. You could tell JJ was profiling you with her soft Mom smile. “How’re you feeling, Y/n?”

Avoiding various glances from the rest of the team, you quickly nod. “Better.” You respond, wanting to carry on as if nothing were wrong as your glow began to flicker and fade.

“If it isn’t my angel, having returned from her duties in heaven.” Derek speaks up, happily walking towards you as Penelope remains in tow.

“Oh, I’m so glad you’re back. I don’t know if you got the-”

“The animal videos and relaxing music tracks,” You smile as Penelope nods, Derek rolling his eyes. “I did, thanks, Pen.” You rise to your feet, blocking out the blurred vision as you lean into a tight hug.

Whilst in Penelope’s embrace, Derek shoots Spencer a look, motioning him to follow.

“Just take it easy, we can’t have half of our favourite duo going on us.” Penelope jokes with you as you watch Spencer walk sheepishly behind Derek into the conference room, the door closing behind them. “Well, if you need me, I’ll be in the Batcave.”

The Batcave had never appealed to you more than now. The dark walls, few visitors and all of Penelope’s fluffy things to play with. Maybe you’ll find a reason to stop by later if the headache that looms over your thoughts returns.

Over in the conference room, Derek leans against the table whilst Spencer tries to stand tall, his hands resting in his pockets. “Kid, what’s going on with Y/n?”

A heavy sigh escapes Spencer’s lips as his eyes fall to the ground. “What’d you mean?”

Derek shifts, his eyes hardening as Spencer lifts his head back up. “Reid,” Derek starts.

“She, she won’t tell me,” Spencer states, taking Derek by surprise. “I, I want to ask her, but I’m worried she won’t take it well.” Spencer sighs as he turns his head, looking out from the blinds to see you talking with JJ, a tired smile wearing heavy on your face. “We made an agreement a while ago to always be honest with one another, but I don’t know if that still stands.”

“Is she struggling with things?” Derek questions, resting his arms against the table as Spencer opens his mouth, but words struggle to follow.

“I, I know I’m a profiler, that’s my job but with Y/n, I, I hate doing it. She’s supposed to tell me these things, I don’t want to figure it out.” Spencer stumbles, but he knows exactly what is wrong with you, and that’s the issue.

“Judging by the guilt in your voice, you’ve already figured it out, huh?” Derek comments as Spencer nods in response. “You gotta talk to her, Reid before it gets worse.”

Another nod follows as Spencer remains lost in thought, barely registering the quick pat on the shoulder from Derek before he exits the conference room, leaving him alone until Penelope enters, announcing there’s a new case.

It was a long case, one that dragged out with several victims and a blur of family members cross your mind as you curl up in your seat on the jet.

Closing your eyes, all you can picture are those screams and violent sobs from the victim's families. You promised them you’d bring their child/sibling/friend/niece/nephew/grandchild home, but you couldn’t, you didn’t.

“Hey,” Lifting your head up, you’re greeted by Spencer holding a mug of green tea. “Did you know that Green Tea contains epigallocatechin-3-gallate, or more commonly known as EGCG. It’s a natural antioxidant, and that’s only one of the benefits from drinking green tea, did you know,”

Holding your hand up, Spencer pauses before sitting down beside you.

“I’m glad you stopped him before I did.” Rossi comments from across the jet, nursing a glass of scotch along with Hotch.

“Thanks, Spence.” You mutter, grasping the mug closely as the burning sensation trickles through your skin, but you refuse to let go. “Sorry, my heads just thumping.” You smile weakly to your best friend who wears that uncomfortable tight-lipped grin. “Don’t do that,”

Spencer pauses, his lips parting. “Do what?” He asks, shuffling in his seat so his body is facing you, closing off everyone else who is asleep or drifting on the jet.

“Treat me like I’m ill or tiptoe around things.” You sigh, releasing your hands from the mug as you rub your temples, the warmth from your fingertips soothing you momentarily.

“Then tell me what’s going on, Y/n.” Spencer states quietly, trying not to raise his voice as JJ stirs in her sleep across from you both. “Please,” He whispers, and the mere plead breaks your heart.

Closing your eyes, you shake your head. “I don’t know if I can Spencer,” You tell him, opening your eyes and focusing on his, how big the universe looks through his hazel gaze. “and it hurts to admit that because I care about you and, and everyone so much.” You never get overly emotional after cases, but with everything else, it’s just hit you.

Reaching out, Spencer rests his hand on yours, his thumb gliding over the back of your hand. “I just, I don’t like seeing my friends in pain and I just want to stop it happening.” He admits, his eyes fixated on yours as a tear falls down your cheek.

“Well,” A scoff leaves your lips as you take your hand from Spencer’s as you forcefully wipe your eyes. “not everything can be fixed that easily, Reid.” You remark before rising to your feet, shuffling past Spencer and over to the bathroom.

In a state of shock, Spencer registers JJ opening her eyes opposite him. “If that was your best attempt at comfort, I’ve seen better effort from serial killers.” JJ jokes as she sits upright whilst Spencer’s brows remain deeply furrowed.

“Y/n never closes herself off like this, JJ.” Spencer sighs. “We’ve been friends for nine hundred and twelve point five days. And during all this time she’s been honest with me, never once has she hidden something.”

Memories from late nights watching Doctor Who reruns, attending book signings or being Spencer’s plus one to obscure foreign films when no one else would go, you both were happy just to be in one another's company. Even if you had no idea what was happening during a film in Russian, Spencer aided as a translator, much to the others attending annoyance. All Spencer wanted was for you to be happy.

“There are some things you can’t share with your friends, Spence.” JJ reminds him. “Y/n might not have figured it all out yet, just give her some time.”

Spencer nods and his ears perk up to the sound of your footsteps approaching.

“Thanks,” You mumble as Spencer rises to his feet, allowing you to slide back against the window as you close your eyes in an attempt to sleep or avoid the inevitable conversation with Spencer. For now, it remains to be the latter.

Since you returned from the case, you only felt worse in every sense.

You wanted to carry on, you wanted to make this work because you loved this. No, you love this.

“Y/L/N?” Hotch calls out, catching you by surprise as you turn around. “Do you have a moment?”

Nodding in response, Spencer’s eyes follow you as you walk up to Hotch’s office, the door closing behind you and the blinds being drawn.

“Someones in trouble.” Derek sings, causing JJ and Penelope to laugh. But Spencer only tenses, wishing he could be in there with you, hoping you’re alright.

When you walk out, it’s been thirty-two minutes and twelve seconds, and during that time all Spencer has been able to focus on is the door of Hotch’s office.

Hotch gives you a curt nod before he shuts the door to his office, retreating back to his desk whilst you walk toward yours. “Everything okay sugar plum?” Penelope asks, wrapping her arms around you as you weakly hug her back.

“Yeah, I’m just going to take some time off. I’ve got a few things to sort out.” You explain, trying to avoid the concerned glances of your friends at the anonymity of your statement. “I’ll be back before you know it, guys.” You force a small laugh. “And I’ll only be a phone call away. I don’t wanna miss out on the action.”

“Like we’d let you.” Derek remarks.

“Rest up, okay?” JJ comments with a small smile as you grab your bag and coat.

As you lift your head up to wave, you focus on Spencer. You know you’ll always focus on Spencer in a room, no matter how many or few people there may be; Spencer is the first person you’ll notice.

More specifically, your focus lands on the solemn expression he is wearing. One you’re aware of but not well accompanied with.

“Take it easy, okay?” Penelope calls out to you as you walk through the glass doors.

Once out of sight, everyone turns to face Spencer who lifts his head up, forcing that tight-lipped smile. “What?”

JJ crosses her arms whilst Penelope steps closer. “Why are you just standing here? You’re our resident genius and you’re clueless!” Penelope groans, gripping onto Derek’s arm. “How can he be so naive?”

“I’m right here, Penelope.” Spencer speaks up. “But I don’t follow, for once.” He remarks, and JJ laughs quietly at Spencer’s attempt at humour.

Rolling her eyes, Penelope lets go of her favourite man and reaches over to Spencer. “Y/n, our sweet, loving agent with the heart of gold and the mind of a thunderstorm.” Penelope begins, and Spencer nods along, not wanting to interrupt about how a thunderstorm isn’t the best use of a metaphor to describe your mind when in reality it’s more like a-

“Spencer?” Derek waves his hand in front of Spencer’s face, bringing him back to reality.

“What about Y/n?” Spencer clears his throat, but the change in his pitch doesn’t favour him as Rossi raises an eyebrow as he approaches the rest of the team.

“He’s figuring it out, isn’t he?” Rossi comments as a series of nods follow. “About time, kid.” Rossi raises his mug to Spencer who leans against the edge of his desk.

“Just give him a moment,” JJ speaks up as Spencer fixates on your desk, your absent desk.

How every morning you’re the first person who makes him laugh from across the room. You bring him coffee or he’ll bring you one. You always try to persuade him to eat out, or go on a walk or try riding a bike after work instead of the subway. Spencer will sing along to cheesy songs with you just to hear you yell at the top of your lungs and dance in your apartment. Spencer gave up a chess tournament to go on a bike ride with you at sunset, just to see the warm glow against your face, knowing how soft your skin would feel against his.

And that’s when it hits him. Every single moment over the past two and a half years.

“I, I have to go,” Spencer mumbles, pushing himself from his desk and quickly walks out from the BAU, rushing to the elevator as the team quietly celebrate.

Spencer is running, and it isn’t a flattering sight to witness as he breathes heavily, bursting through the doors of the parking lot.

“Y/n?” Spencer calls out, running toward the far block F where you always park your car, hoping he isn’t too late.

“Spencer?” Your voice falters as you exit your car, wiping your eyes as Spencer pants, but still walks closer toward you. “What’re you doing here? Why aren’t you working?” You want to laugh as an attempted smile crosses your lips as Spencer’s hair clings to his forehead, his lips remaining parted as he breathes shallowly. “Okay firstly take a breath, you need it.”

Nodding in response, Spencer takes a deep breath before composing himself. “I had to talk to you before you go.” Spencer speaks smoothly as you step away from your car, standing in front of him as tears line your cheeks.

“Is something wrong, Spence?” You ask sweetly, despite your current state, your attention remains fixated on Spencer as he shakes his head.

“Y/n, I,” Stuttering over his words, Spencer exhales deeply. “I know I can’t make you better overnight, but I also don’t want to lose you- none of us do, but I guess I especially don’t.” Spencer begins to explain. “All I ask is that you let me in, let me help in some way, even if it’s just opening your car door or sending you those memes Garcia finds, I’ll do it.” A smile graces Spencer’s lips as you chuckle softly.

“I feel so lost, Spencer.” You admit, your eyes glazing over. “Of late it’s just all too much, I can’t, I can’t take the pain and sorrow of those who’ve lost loved ones.” You wipe your face, taking a shaky breath as Spencer steps closer.

“But think of how many lives you save, Y/n.” Spencer interrupts. “Statistically, those outweigh the lives lost.”

“I was expecting a statistic I’ll admit.” You joke, and Spencer shrugs his shoulder. “I know it’ll pass, but it just hurts.”

Spencer places his hand on your shoulder, his eyes scanning yours for any uncertainty before he wraps his arms around you, holding you close against his chest as silent sobs leave your lips.

“I’m always here, Y/n. We all are.” Spencer mutters as his lips press against the top of your head, lingering as he closes his eyes, not wanting to let you go.

Pulling away from his embrace, you cross your arms over your chest. “Thank you, Spence.” You smile sweetly. “I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“I’ll keep you to that, Y/n.” Spencer chuckles before you lean forward, kissing his cheek softly before retreating to your car. “Don’t be a stranger, Y/n.” Spencer mutters under his breath as you reverse out from the parking space, exiting the parking lot as those words linger on his tongue unsaid.

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early2000smovieimagines · 3 years

Text

Meeting and Dating Donnie Darko

(Not my gif)(Requested by @teddansonwannabe16 )

(Also, if there’s ever something in these headcanons that you’d like me to write more about; especially in the meeting part, just let me know!)

- You and Donnie sort of met when you were younger but you were never close. You’d lived in the same area of town and waited at the same bus stop every morning but you’d never actually had a full conversation with the boy nor hung out together.

- Every once in a while, you’d encounter each other. Maybe he’d tell you your backpack was open or where a certain class is, maybe you’d share an umbrella or he’d tell his friends to leave you alone; or maybe you’d share an awkward wave as you passed each other on the street. Other than that, there was nothing between you.

- That being said, the two of you still liked each other, even if the other person wasn’t aware of it. Your teenage crushes were also; probably, part of the reason the two of you didn’t speak all that much; both of you being too shy and awkward to speak to the other.

- It was seemingly completely out of the blue that he chose to ask you out. You’d both ended up being alone at the bus stop that day, his sister and her friends going to dance practice early in the morning, his friends skipping class, and Cherita coming down with the flu.

- The two of you stood side by side awkwardly, him glancing over at you a few times before he suddenly blurted out the question of “do you wanna go with me”, making you look over at him in surprise.

- It took you a few moments to respond, wondering if you’d heard him correctly or if there was someone behind you you hadn’t noticed, but after he began to ramble, you finally realized it really was you he was talking to. So you interrupted his babbling and told him that you’d like to.

- The bus pulled up as he smiled and the two of you got on, him sitting beside you and watching you as you looked out the window happily.

- He walked you to class that day, and the next day, and the day after that, and ...I think you get the picture.

- The two of you didn’t quite have a first date, you sort of just started hanging out together a lot. You’d walk home together or hang out at one of your houses; maybe in the fields by Grandma Deaths house. It wasn’t until a few weeks after you became an item that you actually went out and watched a movie together which you suppose could be considered your first “date”.

- You share your first kiss a few weeks after he asked you out as well. Donnie didn’t want to rush you; and he wasn’t sure of how to do it himself, so he just waited until he couldn’t take it anymore.

- You were hanging out and he was accidentally only half listening to what you were saying up until he finally blurted out that you’ve “been seeing each other for a while”.

- When you replied with a questioning “yeah?”, he grew more nervous and struggled to find what he thought was the right way to say what he wanted to say. That was, until you asked if he wanted to kiss you.

- Instead of replying, he merely closed his eyes, leaned in and connected your lips. You fought back a smile as you wound your arms around his neck, feeling his hands move down to your waist.

- And just like that, Donnie Darko would never be able to let you go again.

- Donnie sort of just pays no mind to most people so if you let him kiss or touch you in public, he will. Plus, as demented as he can be, he does keep things socially acceptable and innocent so you don’t have to worry about that.

- Handholding. There’s just something so comforting and nice about the feeling of another living thing holding and squeezing him back.

- Random affectionate touches.

- Long and tight hugs.

- Once in a while, he has this inexplicable need to feel you in some way. To kiss you, touch you, be touched by you. You’re what helps him forget about the world and all that's wrong with it. Your warmth, your touch, your lips; they’re what makes his messed up life worth living.

- Gentle kisses on the cheek and forehead.

- Soft kisses.

- Intense kisses. Being able to kiss you until he can’t breathe is quite therapeutic for him.

- Long and slow paced makeout sessions. He could genuinely kiss you for hours.

- He likes when you rest your head on his shoulder or otherwise be absentmindedly affectionate and comfortable with him. It just reassures him that you actually love and want to be with him; and it just feels nice.

- He may have trouble initiating it when you first start dating but he actually really likes cuddling. He tends to like to press his face into your neck or chest and wrap his arms around you, especially when his days been sort of shitty. That being said, pretty much any position is fine by him.

- He sorta likes when you nap on or around him, it makes him feel trusted or like he’s your protector or something. He also gets to memorize your features without feeling awkward about looking at you.

- Time is a social construct. If you want to see him or if he wants to see you, the fact that it’s three a.m. is irrelevant. He’ll let you in or sneak you in somehow; you’ve both probably learned how to climb in through each other’s windows.

- Nighttime walks.

- Stargazing.

- Listening to him read, or him asking you to read to him.

- Donnie being Donnie, he usually just calls you by your name rather than a nickname or pet name. There’s something about them that makes him feel awkward; they just seem so strange coming out of his own mouth.

- Looking at his writing and paintings. He’ll sometimes give some of them to you as little gifts.

- He once just really wanted to try to do your makeup and honestly, he did a really good job. Every once in a while, he’ll ask to do it again and hey, who are you to turn down a free makeover.

- Running errands together. If Donnie really wants to hang out with you; which he often does, it doesn’t matter what you’re doing, he’ll tag along no matter how boring.

- Donnie isn’t one for extravagant dates and you probably aren’t either so the two of you just sort of hang out together. You’ll do puzzles, ride your bikes, jump on trampolines, etc; all just random fun things.

- Television dates. You swear he must have watched every cartoon from premier to end a dozen times with some of the knowledge he has of them. He’ll go on some long explanation after you express confusion about something and then finish with a shy chuckle and a “I watch a lot of tv”.

- Shooting bottles with him or watching him shoot them while sitting on the couch in the field.

- Sneaking into abandoned buildings. The two of you like to go exploring.

- Always being project partners and sitting together at assemblies, lunch, or in class.

- Always having help with your homework or other assignments. Donnie usually just offers up answers without even thinking about it.

- The good kind of teasing comments. Things that’ll snap you out of your funk or start a conversation/make you smile.

- Sharing headphones or just sharing different music with each other.

- Long, somewhat rambling conversations. He just has a lot to say about a lot of things.

- Existential debates.

- Letting him rant to you. He gets really worked up over certain things that most people don’t care about so occasionally you’ll just have to sit him down and calm him instead of letting him blow a blood vessel.

- Listening to the stories of when he was “unruly”. He’ll admit some slightly troubling things and then try to assure you that he’s “better now” so that you don’t think he’s crazy; especially when you first start dating.

- Donnie's view of the world is sort of skewed but even if it wasn’t, he would never judge you, especially because you never judge him. It doesn’t matter what it is, he’ll always stand by you because he cares about and “gets” you.

- He sometimes likes to pretend to be your therapist. It’s meant to be humorous most of the time but occasionally, when you’re upset, he’ll try to see if it actually works or could help you in any way.

- He always seems to understand you, no matter what nonsense you may be saying. No one else will ever know exactly what you mean like he does.

- Watching him closely when he begins to act sort of strange. You notice that something isn’t right but you don’t know if it’s your place to ask or if you even should.

- He may or may not confide in you when Frank shows up; it depends on how long you’ve been together and the kind of person you are.

- While he may not talk about it, he’ll want to spend as much time with you as he can for some seemingly inexplicable reason.

- If Donnie can help it, he’ll never tell you or make it obvious when he’s jealous so you may never truly know when he is. But, when he’s sitting alone at night, his mind will drift back to what may or may not have happened and he’ll feel his chest begin tighten while a million different thoughts race through his head.

- Donnie isn’t extremely protective but he does look out for you. He’ll tell people to leave you alone, guide you away from something, take something from your hands, or help you down from a large step, etc. Whenever something happens, he’s only ever really worried about whether or not you’re okay.

- You see, if Donnie wants to have an argument about something, you’re gonna have it. That being said, you don’t fight a ton but when you do, he tries to remain fairly calm until he can’t help but get heated; usually when you just won’t listen to him or try to understand or just won’t explain what you’re mad about.

- He’s miserable when you’re in that post fight funk although he may try to convince himself; and succeed, that he’s angry. He’ll mope around and probably tell his therapist about it it. You’ll have to come to him when you’re ready, at least if you gave him the silent treatment since he’ll stop trying to approach you after a while and just assume you hate him now.

- That being said, there will be instances where he’ll just not leave you alone until you talk to him, kind of like a psycho ex would. I’m sorry but Donnie is still Donnie and not completely mentally well.

- There’s not too many I love you’s in your relationship but when there is one, it’s emotion filled and meaningful. He really wants you to know and understand how much he cares about you; especially if he’s saying it after somethings happened to him.

- Well your actually future together is sort of doomed from the start but the future he wanted was one where the two of you were together and neither of you were alone.

#donnie darko imagine #donnie darko headcanons #donnie darko headcanon #donnie darko imagines #early 2000s movie imagine #early 2000s imagine #early 2000s movie headcanons #early 2000s movie headcanon #2000s movie imagine #2000s movie headcanons #2000s movie headcanon

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study-coffee-chicago · 3 years

Text

Season Premier Thoughts:

(And, feel free to send me asks about the eps!)

MED:

I knew it was gonna happen, BUT BREAKING MY MANSTEAD HEART IN THE FIRST TWO MINUTES????

“He was aiming at you wasn’t he?” DR. CHARLES GOING OFF ON ARCHER??? HERE FOR IT

Dr. Dylan’s interactions with the kid??? Loving him already!

THIS KID IS LIKE 8! GANG INITIATION??? WTF

I’m gonna need Jay and Will to team up for this investigation

The way Will said “Hold on” to Goodwin when talking about the investigation. I LAUGHED SO HARD

WILL’S BACK IN THE ED ❤️

Why do I feel like Will and Stevie are gonna end up dating?

God, I love Maggie

Fuck Kender with locking the charts

Fuck Archer…bc he’s a dick

SASSY WILL. I’M HERE FOR IT

These twins are creepy

SASSY DR. CHARLES TO ARCHER?? ALSO HERE FOR IT

How many times am I going to think “fuck Archer” during this ep?? Probably a lot.

THE DOCTOR NEVER TOLD THIS WOMAN ABOUT HOW TO HELP HER DAUGHTER AND IT WAS ABOUT RACE??? FIND THE DOC AND TAKE HIS LICENSE

Oooh, Lanik’s back

I thought they were making Crockett and Will friends…NOT ENEMIES

Shut up with your vascon thingy, Cooper

Wow, Dr. Stevie just going in on the hard questions with Alisha

Dr. Taylor lost her first patient 😭

Will doesn’t like lying. 😂. WILL, DO YOU REMEMBER WHEN YOU DIDN’T LISTEN TO JAY AND WORKED WITH THE FUCKING MOB OR SOME SHIT???

THE TWINS SWITCHED PLACES??? MY JAW DROPPED

Again, loving Dylan Scott

Loving the new docs!

Stevie’s mom’s homeless 💔

Ooooh, we’re yelling at Archer next week! Here for it!

Final thoughts: Loved it! Will definitely be rewatching this ep!…probably this weekend 😂

FIRE:

It’s been less than a minute and I’m STRESSED AF

GO CASEY

OH MY GOD, CRUZ

I wonder how weird that rescue breath scene between Cruz and Casey was to film 😂

CRUZ, THANK GOD

Crockett sighting!

Stellaride and their sex drive…holy shit!

KELLY LITERALLY THROWING THE REMOTE 😂

Loving the humor when Joe came back 😂

VIOLET, I’LL BUY YOUR CANDLES! I LOVE CANDLES

Is Joe having symptoms of PTSD???

BODEN’S DEPUTY DISTRICT CHIEF

OH THANK GOD HE’S NOT LEAVING THE SHOW

THIS WOMAN IN THE ROOM WITH THE WINDOW OPEN IS CRAZY

Love how Sylvie talked the woman down ❤️

Nobody’s gonna think about it when Brettsey walk out together? Haha, bullshit

Dill popcorn is actually pretty good

I thought we were done with politics in Chicago Fire after Alderman Casey resigned

THEY SERIOUSLY HAD TO FALL THROUGH THE ROOF??? WE JUST GOT SQUAD BACK AND NOW THE WRITERS WANT TO KILL HALF OF TRUCK????

CASEY DIDN’T FALL THROUGH

THANK GOD SEVERIDE AND CRUZ GOT STELLA AND GALLO OUT

CASEY WITH THE GOOD SAVE

Boden’s speech made me tear up

“Whenever Gallo almost dies, for like two days I stop thinking I wanna kill him” VIOLET 😂

Watch the millennials start selling their beer to Hermann to sell at Molly’s

THE BABY SHOWER WAS SO CUTE

“I did not grow up in a loving, happy house.” I’M GONNA NEED SOME STELLA KIDD BACKSTORY ASAP

Final thoughts: NOBODY DIED! And, that promo for next week??? I CAN’T WAIT FOR THAT CAR ACCIDENT CALL

PD:

POOR HAILEY

Ugh, Voight

Trudy’s just like, take a step back, Adam. I don’t know how I’d get you out of this one if you punched a doctor.

Miller: what’s the update on Roy? VOIGHT KILLED HIM AND BURNED HIS BODY AT THE SILOS THAT’S THE UPDATE, SAMANTHA

Uh oh. Somebody heard gunshots at the warehouse. JAM UP VOIGHT AND NOT HAILEY, I’M BEGGING YOU. SHE WANTED TO DO IT RIGHT AND CALL IT IN

HAILEY’S HAIR TIE

“Work the scene, I need your DNA in here.” VOIGHT, LEAVE

Ugh great, now Voight and Hailey are gonna go talk to the witness

HE SAW ONE OF THEIR CARS. SHIT

Not one of their cars…SO WHOSE CAR DID THE WITNESS SEE???

POOR ADAM

VOIGHT, HOW ABOUT YOU FUCKING CONFESS

Hailey doesn’t have to accept anything…VOIGHT, YOU WERE THE ONE WHO MADE HER KILL ROY

Dad! Adam talking out his problems with Trudy and being worried about Makayla ❤️

OH SHIT, IRWIN TOOK VIDEOS

UPSTEAD CHASE SCENE

We need to put Voight in jail because I need my upstead babies to be back to normal and fluffy

I’m digging the car chase music

How does nobody see that Voight is acting weird af

WE’RE ABOUT TO GET SNIPER! JAY

SNIPER! JAY ❤️❤️❤️

Never would’ve seen Miller and Kevin going into the building coming

Jay always gets the job done

MAKAYLA PAINTING ADAM’S NAILS PINK AND HIM CALLING HER MAK. MY HEART ❤️ ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

MAKAYLA HOLDING ADAM’S HAND AND WITH THE OTHER ONE HOLDING HER PLATYPUS STUFFED ANIMAL ❤️❤️❤️

KIM’S AWAKE

Adam saying “ladies first” and then Makayla running to Kim. I love Dad! Adam!

SHE BROUGHT HER PLATYPUS FOR KIM ❤️ I have tears in my eyes now

OH FUCK, THE FEDS ARE GETTING INVOLVED NOW. SHIT

THAT UPSTEAD SCENE. THE TALK. THE PROPOSAL. JAY SAYING HE’S OLD-FASHIONED. I FELL OFF MY COUCH ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

UPSTEAD ARE GETTING MARRIED ❤️❤️❤️

Good thing Jay didn’t use Mama Halstead’ss ring because, as I’ve mentioned in previous posts, pretty sure that thing is cursed

Final thoughts: THE PROPOSAL, UPSTEAD ARE GETTING MARRIED, KIM’S OKAY, DAD! ADAM! Loved it! But, I’m gonna need Voight to confess because he’s killing Hailey here and that’s just not okay. Next week looks like a lot of Burzek, so hopefully more Dad! Adam and Mom! Kim. Finally, I really want pizza right now 😂

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godofsexdrugsandrocknroll · 3 years

Text

Soul: Power Trip

Yang: *Stretches arms above head, draws classmates attention* So...anybody know why tall, blonde and goofy looks so chill up there?

Pyrrha: *Crosses arms* I'm...uncertain. Jaune was quite instrumental in our takedown of the Grimm at initiation and I have no doubt he'll impress us here as well, but...well perhaps--

Weiss: *Scoffs* Well if he 'flirts' *sarcastic airquotes* as well as he does fight then at least we won't have to wait long for that Winchester oaf to end this.

Pyrrha: *Glares but says nothing*

Ruby: I-I don't really wanna agree with Weiss on this one, but she might be right. Jaune doesn't even carry a weapon.

*Weiss throws up her hands and scowls*

Pyrrha: *Trying to defend Jaune* Even still, Jaune showed a good grasp of group tactics. *Uncertain* Maybe he fights differently than us?

Yang: *Immediately bored* Oh yay. So he's gonna talk his way to a win.

Blake: *Eyes on the stage as Glynda explains* There is more than one way to win a battle, Yang. And to be fair, he doesn't look like he's even remotely worried. *Eyes narrow* He almost looks bored. *To Nora and Ren* Did you two see how he fought in initiation?

Nora: *Grins* Nope! Way too busy crushing Grimm into paste and flyin' around!

Weiss: *Looking really grouchy* Lovely. How interesting--

Ren: *Quietly* He's fast.

Weiss: *Snaps at him* What?

Ren: Jaune. He was fast. Not as fast as Ruby but when the Deathstalker tried to get him with its stinger, Jaune only saw it about two seconds before it would have killed him and he dodged it and directed Pyrrha towards the stinger. *Looks back at the stage* The reflexes, reaction time and speed to pull that off is a bit unnerving, even for a future Huntsman, but it also suggests Jaune knows how to fight.

*The two teams are now quiet, even Weiss who is now actually looking at Jaune*

Cardin: *Sneers* Don't worry too much, Jauney boy. I can't make this painless but it'll definitely be quick. *RDL laughs nearby*

Jaune: *Says nothing, just stands there in his jeans and his bunny hoodie with a long sleeved orange shirt beneath it and white surgical gloves covering his hands, a white surgical mask over his face*

Glynda: --with that said, are there any questions from our combatants?

Jaune: *When Cardin remains silent* Is this an assessment of our skill or a display?

Glynda: *A bit taken aback at the blunt tone* Excuse me?

Jaune: *Sighs tiredly, puts dull blue eyes on Glynda* This fight.

Glynda: *Perturbed* Both, Mr. Arc. But we do not expect to see the full scope of your capabilities as a Huntsman in just one fight, if that's what you're asking.

Jaune: *Just looks back at Cardin, removes his right glove and holds it it in his other hand*

Glynda: If that is all *steps back* then begin!

Cardin: *Shoots forward* Don't worry, bunny boy, I'm sure next fight you'll get to show off all that 'skill' of yours!

*Despite being only a foot away and about to bring his mace down, Cardin isn't fast enough*

Jaune: *Inside only a second or two, Jaune crouches down and moves forward in the same instant and places two fingers on Cardin's neck*

Cardin: The fuck was tha--GGGKKKKKKKKKK!!!!! *Trails off into a scream as his flesh seems to suddenly grow large goosebumps, which rapidly become large bubbles*

*Shocked screams from the audience*

Cardin: *Explodes into a massive shower of gore, his upper half missing and leaving only his legs*

Glynda: *So shocked that she just stares in horror as the students start panicking*

Random Student: Oh gods, h-he killed him!

Random Student #2: Somebody call the headmaster, no the police!

Jaune: *Deeply irritated* Calm down. *People gape and Jaune sighs, leans forward and touches Cardin's blood*

*Instead of frantic screams of terror, disgust and anger there is now dead silence as Cardin brutally reforms and gasps, pales and falls on his ass, crabwalking backwards and beginning to hyperventilate while staring at Jaune*

Jaune: *Melancholy* Still so disgusting. *Puts on glove, to Glynda* That's my win. *Walks off*

Cardin: *Scampers closer to Glynda who's staring at her scroll and then at Cardin, Cardin is suddenly almost polite* T-the hell was that, Arc?

Jaune: *Shoulders slumped* My semblance. It's matter manipulation. Anything I touch I can disassemble or reassemble into anything I want. If I want to destroy, I destroy. If I want to create, I create. If I want to reshape matter into something else, the sky's the limit. *Stops before a pale Pyrrha, a solemn looking Ren with widened eyes and a fidgeting, nervous Nora* Or if I want to revive the dead, I revive the dead. *Shrugs* Family was attacked when I was young. I was hurt. Mother unlocked my aura just in time for me to see some White Fang asshole pulp her skull with his mace. When you're 6 years old and just watched your mother die, the only thing your soul wants is to save her.

*Blake shifts uneasily, looking away while Yang has an arm around a stunned, terrified Ruby's shoulders with a complicated look on her face and Weiss can't stop staring at the boy she dismissed, a hand over her mouth since she was close to vomiting*

Jaune: *Sighs again* Do whatever you want with that information. It makes no difference to me. I'm used to Overhaul.

Weiss: *Shakily* O-Overhaul?

Jaune: *Slouches into a seat* My semblance. It's called Overhaul.

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

One final post for the day. I like the idea of different semblances and the impact they would have on a character. For those unaware, this is a quirk from My Hero Academia called Overhaul, used by a character of the same name.

I'm well aware it doesn't really work as a semblance since semblances don't really work the same way as quirks; but this is just for fun.

And in this case, I think if Jaune had Overhaul as his semblance, his behavior makes sense. This would be a Jaune who's seen his mother die at a young age, revived her and then since his semblance is tied to his soul and his emotions can effect that (Yang getting angry and activating Burn), he's probably accidentally killed a lot of people, possibly including his family (hence the gloves). So he's just kind of depressed, a bit done with everything, has never really faced any challenges and is a little bit adverse to the messes he makes (I can't imagine getting blood in your mouth being a pleasant experience).

He's no Overhaul, but he's not a fan of the germs. He's also flippant, cold and aloof not to mention big with the reflexes/RT/speed and would be hard to get along with, I think, even if he's the same lovable goof he is in canon beneath layers of trauma.

I could picture either either Nora or Ruby really being the one to help Jaune the most, although I think Yang could be a good enough of a friend after a time to do the same.

#rwby #jaune arc #team jnpr #team rwby #cardin winchester #glynda goodwitch #my hero academia #mha #overhaul #kai chisaki #au #this is what happens when you let a drunk type #what's crack-a-lackin'#shitpost

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calif0rnia-lovers · 3 years

Text

no place for a lady.

join my gc for updates since tags are acting weird

requested kiss challenge: seductive kiss or caught off-guard kiss with pirates? where’s Bishop is a feared captain

pairing: captain!bishop losa x theodosia bell | rating: 💙

sum: bish has taken the governor's daughter hostage. despite being his prisoner, she doesn’t listen to a single thing his crew says. to avoid a second escape attempt, he’s forced to keep eyes on her himself.

words: 2K

Captain Obispo Losa quietly inspects the silver blade catching the rays of the sun above.

The sword is a gift to himself. Stolen from the halls of a governor, foolish enough to leave his daughter poorly protected. It had caught Bishop's attention as he’d waited patiently from his hiding place. Never used, the sword was hanging above the mantle. Hours of work from the local blacksmith deduced to a decorative piece to be discussed over dinner.

Bishop admires the golden filigree decorating the handle. The sword is the nicest weapon he’s ever touched. Probably worth more than his entire ship. He gives it a few swings, adjusting his stance as he quickly becomes accustomed to the weight in his hand.

“Teach me how to use one?”

The request breaks Bishop's concentration. A scoff of disbelief escapes his lips as he glances away from the sword in his hand. He allows his eyes to pass over the woman seated nearby.

Bishop had nearly forgotten she was keeping him company. The usually outspoken woman has been silent. Mesmerized by his handling of the sword.

Bishop's handling of the sword was quite impressive, but so was the man himself.

Seated on the deck, Theodosia has her back against the mainmast--a feeble attempt at mastering the sickness she has yet to master in her time at sea.

The tunic she wears is the cleanest the captain could provide. The loose-fitting fabric rolled up to her elbows. Her dark windblown curls are safe beneath a black hat, the tattered brim protecting her face from the rays of the midday sun. Another gift, courtesy of the captain. In fact, all of the clothes that Theodosia wears are from the captain.

If it were up to her, she wouldn’t have accepted a single thing from the man responsible for marooning her on his ship. However, the golden customized gown she wore upon her arrival--while extremely beautiful-- was impractical for a ship.

As much as she hated accepting his clothes, she needed the hat the most. Not used to spending a day's length in the sun, Theodosia needed it to prevent her face from getting burned.

Bishop considers her question. His gaze remains on the sword in his hand, admiring the balance of the blade.

“Putting a blade in the hand of a hostage...do you take me for a fool, Miss. Bell?” Bishop questions, raising an eyebrow as his gaze drifts to her.

“I do, actually.”

The unexpected response, matched with the confidence of her voice, halts the man’s swinging of the blade. He comes to a standstill, his full attention focused on the woman gazing up at him.

“And why’s that?”

Bishop watches Theodosia's brow furrow, her mind seeking a rational explanation for her smart-mouthed response. Her dark brown eyes widen, her lips settling into a smirk as she pushes herself up.

“If your ship were under attack, you would want me to know how to defend myself.”

The satisfied grin on her face does not produce her desired response. Instead of agreeing, Bishop laughs. The sound wipes the grin clean off Theodosia’s face.

It is a sound the woman is not used to having directed toward her. As the governor’s daughter, Theodosia is not accustomed to people laughing in her face. It is, however, an act the captain seems to love doing. It is his preferred form of dismissal.

“Not necessarily,” he responds. The teasing in Bishop's voice more apparent as his gaze falls to Theodosia's clenched fists. “I don’t care much about your life if we’re being honest.”

“I beg to differ, Mr. Losa.” Theodosia challenges. “It would only be to your benefit if I knew how to handle a sword, even at the novice level. Would you care to know why?”

“I know you’re going to tell me regardless.” He mumbles.

Bishop now understood why, over the years, he’d been informed a ship was no place for a lady. Theodosia Bell is more trouble than it is worth. Following her arrival, she has been attached to the captain’s hip at all times. She has taken said time to share what is on her mind. No matter the subject. For someone born higher than the orphaned captain, she has a mouth as filthy as his.

“I’m flattered you’ve gotten to know me so well, Captain,” Theodosia beams. Her teasing tone prompts Bishop to roll his eyes. “I’ll return to my previous scenario--”

“By all means, make it quick.” He sighs. “I’m trying to concentrate.”

The woman does not waste a single second to present her case. She has learned Bishop will simply leave her behind, literally, when he tires of her voice.

“If we were attacked, you would spend the entire time fighting to protect me. You may claim my life has no value to you, but if that were the case, I wouldn’t be on this god-forsaken ship. Now, would I?” The confidence in her voice is no match to the grin on her face as Theodosia watches the Captain fold his arms over his chest. “You need me alive to get whatever it is you’ll be demanding of my father. As I stated before if someone learned the value of your precious cargo...and decided to take it from you...you, Mr. Losa, would spend your entire time trying to defend me. This means you won’t be able to defend your own life--or your ship--to the best of your abilities. Despite what I said earlier, you do not strike me as a fool.”

A fool Bishop Losa is not.

Theodosia has a point, but that is not the deciding factor.

In their two weeks at sea, Bishop has learned a valuable lesson. He can save himself a headache if he does what Theodosia asks. A woman not used to hearing “no,” as a response to her requests can be a true pain in the ass. If they weren’t so far from port, Bishop would have turned back and left her and her hefty ransom behind.

Before she can change her mind, Theodosia finds herself standing across from Bishop. The sword that is usually hanging around his hip is in her left hand. With the sword in her hand, her mind is blank. The casual and frankly unbothered expression on Bishop’s face makes her question her initial request.

Noting her hesitance, Bishop motions for Theodosia to step closer.

“Ladies first.”

Theodosia straightens her stance, struggling to gauge the exact position to hold the sword. The smile on her face is confident, but her voice not so much.

“And who said pirates have no manners?"

With her hat discarded, she struggles to keep her dark curls under control. The breeze pushes them into her face, her irritation hindering her focus.

She pushes them back from her face a third time. Her gaze examines the patiently waiting man. Although the tip of her blade is directed towards his chest, Bishop’s gaze is on hers. The determination he finds in her gaze tells Bishop all he needs to know.

She strikes first, as requested, swinging as hard as she can. But before her stroke is complete, her opponent is gone from her line of sight.

The sudden shift in the tide causes Theodosia to stumble forward.

A gasp escapes her lips as she slips, her bare feet shifting against the freshly scrubbed deck. She grimaces as her knees slam against the surface, her sword slipping from her grip.

Her head hangs forward, her eyes gripped shut as she listens to the chuckles that fill the air.

Heat floods her face, her eyes taking in the crew members who have suddenly abandoned their posts. They’ve gathered to watch the unfolding lesson, their eyes passing between their grinning captain and his opponent.

One member steps forward, picking up Theodosia's abandoned sword. He waits until she stands to offer it to her.

As she reaches for it, he pulls it back. He waits for her hand to fall to her side to speak.

"You're not gonna get far holdin' it like that, Miss."

Theodosia watches the quartermaster's eyes briefly pass over her shoulder to the waiting captain. As his eyes return to hers, they're as soft as the smile on his lips.

He shifts the sword, allowing her a better view of the placements of his fingers on the hilt.

"Always keep your sword up," he explains, shifting to demonstrate the correct stance. "Cap's quicker than he lets on. You wanna protect yourself."

"Right."

Turning to face Bishop, Theodosia watches as he motions for her to step forward. His request is the same as before.

“Try again.”

This time, Theodosia is not as rash as her previous attempt. The new information provided has shifted her focus. Now, instead of thinking of how to attack, she's worried about ensuring she's in the proper stance. Before she can blink, the captain is suddenly closer to her.

Entirely too close.

She instinctively takes a step back.

She remembers to keep her sword raised, but the sound of metal slicing through the air freezes her on the spot.

Her scream pierces the air as the steel of Bishop’s blade clangs with hers. The force of the contact ripples through her arm, widening her eyes.

He strikes a second time.

Her now lowered sword leaves her defenseless, allowing the tip of Bishop's blade to stop less than an inch from the base of her throat.

The once laughing crewmembers now watch silently, all focused on the terrified look in her eyes.

Bishop's voice breaks the silence.

“First lesson, Miss Bell. When you pick up a sword, no one cares that you’re a woman. They won't stop because you look scared. They’ll strike you down the same as a man.”

Bishop takes a step back. His blade taps lightly against her elbow forcing Theodosia to lift her sword.

“Second. Always stand your ground.”

“Stand my ground--what did you expect me to do? Just stand there while you tried to kill me!”

“If I was trying to, you wouldn't be standing,” Bishop chuckles, the smile on his lips having a surprising effect. A calming effect that helps her take a breath. Seeing the captain smile was such a rare occasion. It caused her to give him a soft one in return. “But now you know, you never want a blade that closes to your throat again.”

“Fine, what else do I need to know?”

“Number three. Anyone can swing a sword.” He allows the blade of his to tap the side of his shoe. “Footwork is the most important part. Doesn’t matter how fast you strike if you can’t escape your opponent's return.”

He watches her eyes glance down to his feet. She shifts to mimic his stance, taking a moment to find her balance on the shifting deck.

To her annoyance, it takes Theodosia a long time to use everything thrown her way. Trying to remember stances, the correct way to hold, the correct way to strike, the correct way to parry--it leaves her head swimming. Her problem is she gets frustrated with each of her missteps. Not being perfect at a skill is foreign territory. The usually short-tempered captain is patient, forcing her to push her frustrations aside as he asks her to identify her mistakes.

There is no need for Theodosia to worry about hurting Bishop. She is practicing with the most skilled swordsman to ever sell the seas. There are moments when her blade comes close to cutting into his flesh or snagging his shirt. But, Bishop always manages to escape. It’s not until he sends a wink her way that Theodosia realizes each close moment was purposeful, a subtle attempt to boost her morale.

Overthinking may be her most unfavorable habit, but it is not her downfall.

It is the flashes of Bishop’s smile when she does something correctly. It is in one of those moments when he catches her off guard. One moment she’s focused on his smile. The next her eyes are gripped shut. Her back pressed against his heaving chest. The chill of his blade against her throat.

“I’d suggest that you yield, Miss Bell,” Bishop chuckles as her eyes open. “It’d be impossible for you to get out of this any other way.”

Theodosia can’t help but mirror the grin that is on her opponent's face.

“Not impossible,” she challenges, glancing over her shoulder at him.

Bishop’s stance wavers slightly as his eyes meet hers.

Despite the playfulness in her gaze, he is unable to foresee the kiss that follows her statement.

Her lips press a kiss against his cheek, the action loosening his grip around her.

Her giggle fills the air as Bishop lowers his sword to his side, his head shaking as she escapes his grip.

The smile she finds on his lips arches her eyebrow.

“Careful, Mr. Losa,” she giggles. “Wouldn’t want your crew to find out their captain actually knows how to smile.”

mayans tags: @just1bri @jakiki94 @wabi-sabi1090 @mt2413 @ilikechocolatemilkh @lovebennycolon @montanaraed @aria725 @sesamepancakes @noz4a2 @crxssourbones @crashbarbie @leahnicole1219 @sillygoose6969 @minnicelli @trulysuccubus @trhett21 @whatupitshuff @futureleo1678 @babaohhhriley @helli4nthus @wiccanmetallicrose @losolvidad0s @abbiesthings @the-jer-bear @binooo98 @gemini0410 @thelovelyleo23 @mariaxliliana @themarkblues @kimljn @thesandbeneathmytoes @crashbarbie @cyka1312 @noz4a2 @zoovent @lakamaa12 @making-starsdance @keithseabrook27

all stories tags: @wabi-sabi1090 @jad3djay @crowngold @cant-decide-at-this-moment @wiccanmetallicrose @themarkblues @gemini0410 @binooo98 @the-jer-bear @abbiesthings @trhett21 @trulysuccubus @leahnicole1219 @starrynite7114 @awkwardtayler @toni9 @queenbeered @kaystacks17 @richonne4life @cocotheclown @oscars-wifeyyy @jennisdirtyimagines @ughdontbeboring @myakai13 @linziland13 @sadeyesgf @brattyfics @sincerelykas @ladyofsoa @pearlkitten33 @tian-monique @megapeacelovemusic-blog @rosieposie0624 @appropriate-writers-name @demonquartz @ourlittlesecretsoveragain @beiroviski @chaneajoyyy @frostingguru @seize-the-droid @cutiebubbleboo @siempremamita @awkwardtayler @relaxing-najee @tomhardydallasstarsgirl @toni9

#may the queue be with you #divider: firefly-graphics #let me know what you think #bishop losa imagine #bishop losa x oc #kiss challenge #mayans mc imagine #bishop losa #mayans imagines #mayans fic #Mayans mc

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chuckbass-love · 3 years

Note

can i request a super smutty one shot of chris evans and hes obsessed with doing anal and it's the filthiest hottest thing ever ??? i love ur work btw :))

Hi lovely anon, thank you so much for the request and i really apologise for the delay. I’ve been working on a couple other things and obviously Christmas time has been hectic too. However, it’s here now and i hope you love it. Also thank you reading my work, your support means a whole lot and i really appreciate you🥰

A/N: Not written smut in a while so please give feedback as i’m anxious and worried that this is shit. Also, part 5 for Only Love Can Hurt Like This will be out soon. So strap yourselves in for that.

Disclaimer: My work is not to be posted anywhere else other than MY Tumblr, Wattpad and Ao3 without my permission. However, reblogs are welcome.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Language, FILTH, anal fingering, anal intercourse, oral (f, receiving), vaginal fingering and daddy kink. 18+

Word Count: 3,054

GIF NOT MINE!!! Credit to @myimaginesworld go check them out❤️

New Obsession

If you were to tell the truth about how you felt a week ago, then it would be that anal made you nervous. Well, not anymore.

You’ve been with Chris for around a year now, which to many wouldn’t seem like a long time but to the two of you, it feels like a lifetime.

He had a way of automatically putting you at ease with everything. Especially in the bedroom or whenever it came to opening up emotionally and even now, that’s still the case.

He treats you like a queen.

Last week whilst the pair of you were lounging around his Massachusetts home with Dodger nestled in between your legs as you lay in between Chris’s legs. He randomly asked you some rather explicit questions.

Ones mostly about your ass and what you’d let him do to it. It started off with him asking about eating your ass, playing with it and then eventually he asked if you’d ever have anal sex with him,

The mere thought had your puckered hole clenching and your tight cunt slowly starting to drip with your honey like arousal. Yeah sure, you were terrified but you’d always been curious and wanted to explore new territory with him.

You love him and you trust him with your life so you agreed to try.

And after a nice romantic meal, a lot of wine on your part, beer on his. You ended up kissing on the couch. It started off very slow until he stood up with you in his arms, carrying you to the master bedroom. The journey there was spent with his large hand splaying across your soft globes, squeezing them aggressively like he just couldn’t wait to have his filthy way with you.

That night was certainly crazy to say the least. You were a little sore after which only led to Chris kissing you on your delicate hole a couple times and running you a bubble bath.

He’s the king of after care with you. Always checking in with you before, during and after to see if you enjoyed it. The last thing he’d ever want is for you to be in pain or danger.

Since that night though, you’ve been doing it whenever you can. It’s like an addiction. The feel of his huge cock pushing into your forbidden and tight hole is something you can never even begin to explain. It just feels incredible. Plus your little cunt gets extremely excited at all of the attention. Chris tends to rub at your bundle of nerves or even dip his fingers into your honey pot, 3 at once. He says he never wants your pussy to be left untouched.

But like you’ve said. It’s like an addiction to you both. In fact, he’s crazy for it.

The grunts that leave his mouth always have you keening for him to go deeper and deeper inside of you. Every inch of him.

Tonight is no exception.

You had a lovely day at his parent’s house. Lisa cooked a gorgeous lunch and all of Chris’ siblings visited with their kids and partners.

You and Scott spent the entire day laughing and joking about the many times you scared Chris. It’s like a running joke in this family plus Chris hates being scared. He calls himself the master of scaring people so when the tables are turned he gets this huge need to get them back.

Whenever Chris is horny or desperate for you, he has his ways of letting you know without actually saying the words.

For example.

You were helping Lisa with some of the last minute prep for lunch by taking stuff out of the oven and placing it onto dishes to then put on the table.

Chris was sat at the kitchen island, sipping on a beer. Well, he was practically gulping it down. You were in the kitchen also.

Lisa asked if you could take the quiche out of the oven and leave it on the cooling rack. Chris’s eyes followed your ass as you bent over. Something you had anticipated to happen since he’s an ass man and your ass in particular drives him insane.

You turned around to place it on the cooling rack and that’s when you saw his flushed cheeks. His eyes full of hunger and lust. Animalistic even.

Before you left to go to his parent’s house, he was begging for you to ride him quickly.

“It’ll only be a quick one, just wanna feel that ass around my cock again”

His whining was more than tempting and now, since you rejected his offer, he was so close to taking you upstairs into his old childhood room to ram into you.

But instead. Lunch was served and he didn’t have the time.

Hours had passed until eventually it was time to go. Lisa gave you some of the leftover quiche since Chris enjoyed it so much and the two of you got into the car with you in the driving seat this time.

“You’re such a fuckin tease baby” he slurred

“And why’s that?” you asked, feigning innocence as you started driving. With his house not being far from his parent’s house, the journey was only around 10 minutes, not even that.

He never responded to you, just smirked as he sat back in his seat.

The moment you got home however, he was all over you like a rash. You shut the front door and locked it just before he pushed you into it.

Your cheek squished against the cold door.

“Chris” you squealed, he didn’t respond though.

You felt his body lower until you were pretty sure he was on his knees, lifting your sundress up and hooking his thick digits into your soaked panties. He yanked them down and tapped your legs for you to step out of them.

“There they are. God i’ve missed this pretty little asshole and oh my, look at this soaked cunt. All for me, huh baby?” you knew that he was well aware of the kind of effect he had on you and your body but he still liked confirmation from your mouth.

“Yes, daddy. It’s all for you. Please”

Whenever you’re around Chris and about to have sex, you find yourself turning into this pathetic woman who is literally his whore. You crave his touch. You crave the feel of his cock ploughing into you so hard that you forget your own name and he loves how hungry you get.

He stood up then, his eyes dancing over your body, the only thing wrong with the view was that you had clothes on. He soon changed that, stripping you completely before getting back down onto his knees.

Which is how you got here.

Your one leg is over his shoulder and your fingers are tangled up in his hair that was once styled.

“Fuck. Daddy. Yes. Just. Like. That” your breathing is heavy and your heart is beating rapidly. His fingers working wonders inside of you whilst his mouth is sucking on your clit.

You’re on the cusp of yet another mind blowing orgasm from just his fingers and mouth alone. He’s already had you messing all over his fingers once but clearly once wasn’t enough if he’s trying to draw another from you.

He’s always been greedy like that.

“Come on baby, i know you got another one in you, give it to me” his fingers start to curl ever so slightly, pressing at that spot inside a couple more times before you’re falling.

Your cum sliding down his digits beautifully. Just the way he likes.

Before you even have the chance to speak, he’s spinning you back around and spreading your ass cheeks to reveal his new obsession.

Seconds later his tongue is pressed against it, circling too.

You shiver at the sensation, your back arches and your hands rest either side of the door frame. In hopes that it’ll steady you.

“There she is, my little whore”

You bite down on your bottom lip as your eyes roll to the back of your head. There’s no point in trying to hold back the moans anymore and with one final lick to your eager hole you let out a loud pornographic style moan.

With Chris, it’s always hard to hold back and he knows that. There’s been so many times when he’s tested you, fucking you in public areas. But the worst one was when you were in his L.A home.

Lisa came to visit at the very beginning of your relationship. You went for some nice lunch and then dinner which was courtesy of your excellent cooking.

Chris put her up for the weekend and boy did he choose that night to initiate some pretty filthy sex.

You were lying on your stomach and trying to sleep when you felt his hands wondering. Then all of a sudden he’s spitting on his cock for lube, stroking it a couple times before sliding into your pussy with ease. All thanks to your permanent need for him.

The way he fucked you that night was most certainly sinful to say the least. His room being next door to the guest room where his mother was sleeping. You’re surprised she didn’t say something the next day. Chris had to keep pushing your head into the pillow to muffle your pleasure filled screams.

“So eager for my cock i see but not so fast baby. Gotta get you ready first” the raspiness of his voice makes everything ten times hotter and you can quite literally feel him inside of you without it being a reality.

He stands up and his finger starts to circle before he slowly pushes it in, taking his time to prepare you for another one of his thick digits.

They glide across the walls inside.

One more is added and another until your ass is stretched out nicely.

He continues to work you over, scissoring his fingers too. Despite doing it a lot already, preparation is key with anal.

“Think you’re ready?”

“Please, i need it” you mewl

He lowers his head so that his mouth is just by your ear and his breath fans your skin “yeah, need it huh? Need daddy’s cock deep inside this tight ass of yours?”

You nod your head aggressively, you couldn’t look more keen if you tried.

“How bad you need it baby, tell me. Tell daddy like a good girl” he whispers, his cologne filling your nose and intoxicating you more than ever as his hand reaches in front to rub at your sensitive clit.

“Please, daddy. I need your cock in my ass. I need it so much”

Before you got with Chris, dirty talk wasn’t necessarily something you even thought about during sex but he introduced you to that world. And what a world it is. It seemed as though, the more you did it, the dirtier you got.

Nicknames were thrown around, more kinks were even explored and you became the pinnacle of a mans dream. Woman in the streets, freak in the sheets.

Such a princess to the public. But for Chris. You’re a whore. Only for him though.

“Beg for it baby” he insists, his fingers press down harder as he rubbing pace quickens.

You can feel the tip of his huge size poking at your hole. Just a push and it’ll be forcing it’s way inside of you, stretching you out even more than his fingers did and filling you up in the best way.

“Daddy, give it to me. Stuff my ass full of your cock please. I need it”

“Such a good girl, my good girl. S’fucking tight baby” the pair of you hiss as he begins to push into you, tearing that sweet ass open.

He’s always loved how tight your ass is and if he had it his way, his cock would remain seated inside of you all day every day. Where it belongs. With your peachy ass cheeks adding to the incredible view.

Every time he fucks you from behind, he spoils you with spanking after spanking, not letting up until your ass is sore and it stings to touch. Luckily, you love it, always begging for more.

And tonight is no different.

His hands rest on both globes, rubbing and kneading before eventually lifting off and smacking back down, earning a gasp from your mouth.

With every inch, he gets closer and closer to bottoming out until before you know it, he’s seated deep inside of your ass.

His fingers find your pussy immediately, sliding inside with no time to waste and then it starts. His thrusting. Slow at first of course.

Gradually getting faster and faster.

“Feel me deep in that fuckin ass huh? My little cock whore. Love getting fucked in this ass baby?” the pure filth leaving his mouth has your clit throbbing under his thumb.

“Answer daddy when he speaks to you” he mutters, spanking your ass and gripping your face with one hand and forcing you to turn your head a bit more so that you’re looking at him “sorry daddy” you pout, face flushed just like his was earlier at lunch.

“And?”

“Feels so good with your cock fucking my ass like that, i need it deeper” you cry out, waiting for his pace to change. His hips snap against your skin as he presses you back into the door with his hand tangled in your hair.

He pulls on it harshly causing you to wince in pain. It all adds to the earth shattering pleasure though, you love when he gets like this.

Ever since you first tried anal last week, he’s turned into this animal. He wants to fuck your ass mercilessly whenever he can. Whenever it’s possible and it’s times like these when he’s glad his house is away from others. He can fuck you as hard and as rough as he likes and your moans won’t be heard by anyone. Absolute bliss.

“That’s it baby, take daddy’s cock like the whore you are. Take it deep” he draws the last word out, his breathing hitches and so does yours as you choke on a moan.

“Take. It”

One smack to your ass cheeks.

“My filthy anal loving whore”

Two smacks to your ass cheeks.

“I always secretly knew you’d love this and i was right. Such a dirty little girl for her daddy, aren’t you?” His fingering pace picks up, ramming into you with such vigor as his cock slows down into hard and rough thrusts.

“Let me hear those sweet noises baby, don’t hide them from me. Sing it for daddy, let me know how good i make you feel”

Your back arches and your face lifts off of the door, head falling back to rest on his chest “please, i’m gonna cum, don’t stop i need it” your desperate whimpers are enough to have him ploughing into your ass harder and faster, his grunts, growls and cursing lets you know how close he is to his own earth shattering orgasm.

“Is daddy’s little girl gonna cum too, huh? Gonna cum with daddy, all over my fingers baby as i spill my cum into your ass again. Like last time?”

“Yes daddy, please, i need it. Give me your cum”

“Such a beg, god you feel so fucking good. Can feel that cunt clenching round my fingers. Cumming baby? Huh, gonna cream all over my fingers like the whore you are?”

All you can muster is a pathetic nod and a whine. You’re so close now.

And just like that, with a couple more thrusts in both holes. You clamp down on his cock and fingers, your clit pulsating again as you cum with a shaky sob of his name.

And of course with your pleasure, his is spurred on. You can feel him twitch and spasm inside as he chokes your name out too. Spilling his hot seed into your ass.

“So fucking good” his heart is beating, you feel it as you lay your head on his chest.

“My good girl, taking it like a pro. I’ll never grow tired of that”

He slowly pulls out, making his way to the bathroom and taking your hand so that you can follow him.

Once there, you get this sudden wave of confidence.

“I already miss your cock inside of me” he runs a wash cloth underneath the hot tap for a couple seconds, before using it to clean himself up. He starts running a bath too but you don’t want one.

You want him.

“I guess we’ll just have to do it again after our bath then won’t we?” he wraps his hand around your wrist, tugging you close so that you’re flush against him.

“What if i don’t want a bath?”

He raises his eyebrows at you in question.

“You want me to fuck your ass again?”

Now that he’s saying it out loud, you feel a tinge of embarrassment.

“Come here and sit on this fucking cock then baby, daddy would hate to disappoint you”

So you do exactly that, he doesn’t have to tell you twice.

“You’re only fuelling the flame baby”

“I don’t know what you mean” your innocence shining through as you turn your head to look at him through your batting eyelashes.

“This ass of yours, you know what it does to me, having my cock buried inside of it. It’s my new obsession” he starts, caressing your cheek before gliding his hand across your body “now. Show daddy how you bounce on his cock”

It would be your pleasure.

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I hope this was great and that you all love it!!! Honest feedback pls...💜

I’ve not written smut in a hot minute so if it’s shit i understand.

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