#no wonder that people talk to other people and I’m an afterthought almost days

[mrsalwayswrite]

Sinners and Saints (Sihtric x reader)

Summary: One day you stumble upon your childhood friend, Osferth, whom you have not seen in years. Yet the more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself drawn to his companion, Sihtric….and the butterflies his dark eyes give you.

This is my contribution to @emilyhufflepufftlk 100 followers challenge! Congratulations again! I’m so happy for you! 

My prompt was - "Love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints." - Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton (in bold within the story)

Words: 5500

Warnings: A couple of swear words, fluff, my poor attempts at humor, Osferth being a good bro. 

Tag List: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @flowers-in-your-hayr​

This gorgeous moodboard was made by @flowers-in-your-hayr​. All credit goes to her! 

"...so there she was, aye, and next thing I know, she flips 'er dress up and I see the most perfect set of…."

 "I'm going to be sick." Osferth mumbled to himself, trying to block out Finan's retelling of his prior night. To the laughter of his companions, he started to push away from the outdoor table at the alehouse. He was no virgin anymore, Finan and Uhtred had seen to that, but he still felt squeamish when listening to their stories of recent conquests. His mother's voice whispered in the back of his mind, things she had told him before her passing, about respect and love. Plus, he could not help but think that this idea of conquests, of women's worth derived from what pleasure a man could take from their bodies, was what brought bastards into this world….like him. 

 "Alright, Finan, we get it. You saw the arse of a goat and couldn't help yourself." Uhtred teased, slinging an arm around Osferth so he could not escape them- most likely to find a church and pray for their souls. 

 "Oi, lord! Ya know that was one time!" Finan feigned mock-outrage, making Uhtred and Sihtric laugh. 

 Osferth put a hand over his eyes as if that would somehow block the image from his mind. Something he desperately did not want there. 

 "How much longer are we here, lord?" Sihtric asked, changing the subject, while twirling a dagger between his hands fluidly. 

 Although Osferth would never admit it aloud, and God forgive him, it was hard not to be jealous of how easily his companions handled their weapons like they had been born with weapons in hand. They continued to tell him it was practice. Recently though, he decided it was a gift that he clearly did not have. 

 "Until I feel satisfied with the training of Lord Godwin's fyrd and his defenses." Uhtred stated indifferently, as if it was something he had to repeat to himself often. 

 "Ya think King Alfred knew how much of a horse's arse Lord Godwin is?"

 Uhtred glanced up, a tiny smirk on his lips. "Probably."

 "But he knew you were the man for the job." Osferth commented. Not necessarily to defend his father but to hopefully bolster Uhtred's confidence. "The men respect you, even if their lord fails to acknowledge his own respect."

 "The baby monk is right." Finan said. "What else needs to be done for the town?"

 Uhtred and Finan began discussing ideas and strategies, Sihtric adding an occasional comment but mostly just listening. 

 Osferth found his attention wandering, since this was an area outside of his expertise. His gaze drifted to the town and its residents who moved about to complete their duties under the midday sun. Their group had only been in this large town for two days and already Osferth was keen to return to Coccham. 

 From amidst the crowd, a familiar face caught his attention. The world tilted off its axis as his entire body went rigid, all his focus zeroed in on her. His heart hammered in his chest and the air whooshed from his lungs painfully. 

 "Y/n?" He muttered to himself, disbelief and shock clearly painted in his tone and on his face. 

 "Baby monk, ya alright?"

 Finan's words did even register, so consumed by the ghost before him. Rapidly, he slid off the bench, almost losing his footing when he went to stand, but pressed on, hurrying towards her. 

 "Y/n!" He called, an almost desperate tone in his yell. 

 When she did not turn around, he shouted louder. "Y/N!" 

 That time she paused, then slowly turned to find him standing still amongst those walking around him, a solid rock in a stream of people. He held his breath as he intently watched her expression, suddenly worried seeing him would not be as meaningful as he hoped. He could see her utter his name silently, eyes wide. Then in the next moment, she dropped the basket on her hip and ran towards him. He opened his arms just in time for her to collide with him, and with her embrace, a painful wave of nostalgia and guilt crashed over him with the strength of a tempest. 

 "It's really you." She finally whispered, peering at him in awe. 

 "Hi." He smiled, his own shock clouding his mind from forming coherent sentences.  

 Then to his surprise, she reared back and punched him in the arm. 

 "Ouch! What was that for?" He whined, rubbing the offended limb. 

 Throwing her hands in the air, they landed on her hips as her voice rose in anger. "For disappearing in the middle of the night without telling me!"

 "I did tell you."

 "That you were THINKING about leaving, not that you WERE leaving!" She reared back and punched him in the arm again, ignoring his pained cry as she continued to berate him. "I spent an entire day running around the monastery trying to find you only for Father Harold to finally pull me aside and tell me you left for Wincheaster." 

 And there was the heaping of guilt he knew he deserved. "I'm sorry….I just….I just knew if I didn't leave that night, then I never would."

 Her face softened at his quiet admission, understanding passing in her eyes. "I know. I wasn't truly surprised…. Just wish you'd have told me before."

 "I'm sorry."

 She sighed, all anger and frustration disappearing, much to his relief. She was a force to be reckoned with when truly in her fury. "So, what are you doing here?"

 "Ah, traveled here with the Lord Uhtred to assist Lord Godwin in his defenses….or something."

 "Uhtred? That Uhtred?"

 He smiled at her, catching the reverence in her tone. "That very one."

 "How did you find him? How did you join him? Wait! Are you a warrior now? We have a lot to talk about and you better get started." There went the hands on her hips again, making his smile widen at the image. Even as a young girl, when her hands were on her hips, you knew she meant business. 

 "Would you like to meet him first?"

 A shy look passed over her face that he was unused to seeing. "I'm…. I'm not presentable to meet a lord."

 He scanned her, noting the dried mud on the hem of her dress and shoes, the small smear of what looked like flour on her left temple. What he noticed most was how the years had made her even more beautiful. She had always been a pretty girl but now, she truly looked like a beautiful woman. A fact he was unsure of how to feel about. 

 He chuckled lightly after a moment. "Well, you certainly smell better than Lord Uhtred so I think it's fine."

 That caused her to tip her head back and laugh loudly, the desired effect of his comment. She gathered up her basket and walked next to Osferth, back to the table where his companions were. It was impossible to ignore their curious stares as they approached. 

 "Lord Uhtred, may I introduce y/n. Y/n, this is Lord Uhtred of Bebbanburg." Osferth said, standing next to her at the end of the table.

 Uhtred nodded graciously, clearly wondering why this woman mattered and why Osferth was introducing her. 

 "Oh, it's an honor to meet you!" Y/n gushed, a bright smile on her face. "Uncle Leofric told us so much about you, but I never thought I'd ever meet you in person."

 "Leofric?" That caught his lord's attention, his gaze narrowing and eyeing her with renewed interest. "How did you know that turd?"

 "When he came to visit Osferth, he'd tell us stories."

 "Ah….all exaggerated, of course." Uhtred said with a cocky smirk. 

 "Wait. I think we're missin' the most important thing here." Finan leaned forward, dark eyes bouncing between Osferth and her, as he pointed a finger at them, hand still wrapped around his cup. "Ya said 'Uncle Leofric'....are ya related to Osferth?"

 Osferth answered quickly. "No, her family owned the farm next to the monastery, so we grew up together." Then he furrowed his brows as a thought hit him. He had been so amazed to see his childhood best friend (only friend really) that he had not realized that she should be back at the farm and not in this town. "Wait, y/n, why are you here and not at the farm?"

 Her face crumpled for a brief second before she was able to mask it into a neutral expression. She shrugged casually, but he could read the subtle tension in the action. "We lost the farm, so mother and I came here to look for work."

 "Ah." There were so many things he wanted to ask but could tell now was not the right time. If she lived here, he would have plenty of time to hear the full story later. Instead he decided to change the subject. "So, you know Lord Uhtred, the others are Finan and Sihtric…. And Sihtric is also a bastard." He added as an afterthought. 

 That made her face light up as she turned to look at the Dane. "Hey, another bastard! We really need to start a club. We can all rant about how awful our fathers are."

 "You're a bastard?" Uhtred asked, shock evident in his voice. 

 "Yes, my lord. My mother was a servant for a lord. Got pregnant. The lord's wife did not like that so sent my pregnant mother back to her family. Certainly, it was our Lord's Will because how else would I have been able to grow up with Osferth?" She asked, patting him on the cheek affectionately. He blushed and swatted her hand away, much to the other's amusement. 

 "I reckon you have quite a few amusin' stories of growin' up with Osferth, eh?" Finan smirked. 

 "I might….but I don't share secrets for free." She matched his smirk with her own crooked smile. 

 He slapped his hand on the table. "I'll owe ya a drink! I need to 'ear this."

 "No….oh no, no, no." Osferth said but knew it was a lost cause before he even tried to deter them. The rest were already deciding when and where to meet that night. "Lord help me."

 "It's not that bad." She teased, bumping his arm with hers. "The worst one is when we went streaking naked through the monastery."

 Osferth felt his face heat up like the flames of hell itself as everyone laughed. "It was your idea."

 "Yeah, yeah, so you like to remind me." She smiled fondly. "Now, if I don't get back home, my mother is going to think I've run off with some man or I've been kidnapped. Either way, she will raise the fyrd herself to find me. I will see you all tonight."

 The others said their goodbyes but before she could step too far away, Osferth gently touched her arm, halting her movement. 

 "Y/n….I'm….I'm glad our paths have crossed once again."

 She pulled him into a tight embrace. "I am too, Osferth. I've missed you." With that, she turned and walked away with her basket still on her hip; but not without glancing over her shoulder at the group before disappearing around some buildings. 

 Once out of sight, Osferth sighed and turned back to his companions, only to see them all still staring intently in the direction she disappeared. 

 "No….y/n is off-limits to you fornicators." He stated firmly, well as firmly as he could be. 

 "She's very pretty…." Uhtred declared, a playful grin on his face. 

 "Lord, no. All of you, keep your hands off of her."

 "Or what?" Finan chuckled, eyes alight with mischief. "You'll fight us, baby monk?"

 "I will if I must."

 "Alright. Her dignity won't be tarnished." Uhtred lifted his cup in Osferth's direction. "Your reputation might be tonight depending on what stories she shares." 

 Osferth groaned, sitting back down next to his lord. "I'm going to need a lot of ale."

 "That can certainly be arranged!" Finan laughed, jovial once more. 

 As discussion started back up again, they all missed the silent, longing glance Sihtric snuck one last time in the direction she walked away….

 *****

 Over the next several weeks Lord Uhtred helped increase the defenses of the town and instructed the guards and fyrd how to better defend against the Danes. 

 During those weeks, you found yourself frequently spending time with Osferth and his companions. First it started off with meeting them in the evenings for ale, laughter and good company. Within days, it became almost expected for one of them to purposefully seek you out. Most of the time it was Osferth and Sihtric coming to join you in whatever your tasks for the day because they were bored or unwanted in meetings. It was not difficult to tell that although they were certainly welcomed members of Uhtred's group, not everyone else saw them in such a positive light. 

 So the three of you often passed the hours away together, waiting until evening to rejoin Uhtred and Finan at the alehouse. Their presence became such a regular occurrence that your mother practically adopted them, they even had their assigned seats at your small kitchen table for meals. Somehow, they seamlessly slipped into your daily life in a way that seemed like they were meant to be there this whole time. 

 Even at the alehouse in the evenings, you usually found yourself nestled between Osferth and Sihtric on the bench. A place you certainly found yourself enjoying more and more….especially next to the Dane. 

 Over the weeks, there was something growing between you and the Dane. It gradually revealed itself with each passing day, growing like the roots of an oak tree. It was through the borderline flirtatious comments that you teased each other with. It was in the subtle touches that caused butterflies in your stomach to dance, from your fingers barely gracing each other when passing something, to the way you leaned your head on his shoulder when your eyelids threatened to close, to the way your thighs would touch under the table and away from view of the others. It was in the lingering looks when your gazes locked and you swore you never wanted to look away. It was in the consistency of being next to one another whenever you could, either sitting at a table or just walking down the street, almost like your bodies were magnetized to one another's. 

 Plus the more you talked to Sihtric, the more you desired to know about him. For he was like no other man you had ever met. 

 Almost a fortnight after you reunited with Osferth, there was one particular evening after staying out far too late with the four men and drinking a bit too much, Sihtric graciously offered to walk you back home. You knew propriety demanded Osferth should be the one to escort you but he was already passed out, head on the table and snores emitting from his mouth. Giggling at your childhood friend, you accepted Sihtric's offer and the two of you easily fell into step. 

 On the walk you learned more about his past, about going up in Dunholm and his cruel father. You had heard bits and pieces while with Osferth and the others. Maybe it was under the cover of darkness, maybe it was the extra ale flowing through both of your blood, but he confessed secrets to you he had never told another besides his mother. When you reached your home, before he could slip away, you clutched his arm and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. After, you bid him goodnight and slipped inside your humble home. 

 After that night, he always walked you home, sometimes alone and sometimes one of the others would join. But when it was just you two, when you were alone, you would bid him a goodnight with a kiss on the cheek or he would kiss your hand, locking eyes with you in a way that made a fire stir in your belly and your core clench. 

 There was definitely something between the two of you, but neither seemed able to verbalize it or take the next step. 

 *****

 "So, what is going on between you and Cedric?" 

 You turned your head to look at Osferth, who laid on the grass next to you, soaking in the heat of the early afternoon sun. "What?"

 "You know….that blacksmith. The one you were talking to the other day."

 "Oh." The memory hit you. You had stopped by to drop off your mother's damaged cooking pot for Cedric to attempt in fixing, although you personally thought it was a helpless cause. The dent in it was significant, but he offered to see what he could do. As you dropped it off at his workshop, the two of you began discussing an approaching saint's day and the celebration that would occur with it. 

 Several minutes later, you heard your name called and looked over to see Osferth and Sihtric walking towards you. You bid Cedric a farewell, promising to stop by the next day to come pick up the pot. After receiving his promise to try his best at fixing it, you headed off towards the stables with your fellow bastards. At the time, you had not thought the encounter significant but with it happening two days ago and Osferth now bringing it up, you wondered how long he had been ruminating on it. 

 Finally, you simply said, "he's a good man, and has been kind to my mother and I since we arrived here."

 "Is he….pursuing you?" Osferth turned his head to scrutinize you, his lips pursed slightly as if concerned about your answer. 

 You openly laughed at the notion. "No, that's silly. He is just a kind man."

 If anything, you had to fend off flirtatious advancements from some of the young men that worked under Cedric. Those same young men quickly learned to keep their eyes on their work and mouths shut. When one openly called out to you, and before you could offer a sharp retort, Cedric threw a hammer at him from across the shop. He bellowed that he did not allow heathens to work for him and if they chose to act godless then they needed to find a new place of work. Their blatant interest diminished after that and Cedric made a point to be the only one that conversed with you if you came to the shop. Although he was easily ten years your senior, you found him a likeable man with a quick wit and sarcastic comments that occasionally left you in stitches. 

 The idea of him pursuing you was an amusing idea. He was still a bachelor, never having married, claiming that his work and apprentices kept him far too busy for much else. 

 Your answer appeared to satisfy Osferth. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but immediately slowly closed it and turned his head back to stare at the blue sky. 

 A stillness settled after your answer, only interrupted by the frequent bird song and the wind through the tall grass. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sun's warmth and just lying around relaxing on the hill outside of the town, away from the hustle and bustle and chores that demanded your attention.  

 "He was watching you like a man who wants a woman." Sihtric stated after a couple minutes of peaceful silence. 

 Startled by his sour tone, you shifted up to look over at the Dane. He sat on the other side of Osferth, one leg propped up and an arm casually slung over it, but his gaze was focused straight ahead, staring off into the distance. Now that you thought about it, over the past two days Sihtric had become more reserved and sullen than you had ever seen. Even his companions commented on it a few times to which he would shrug his shoulders or make an excuse and walk away. You had thought he just missed Coccham, the group having been away for so long, or something happened that made him introspective. It had also not escaped your notice how the prior closeness between you two had halted. Now you wondered if there was something more to his demeanor.  

 "Well, that is most unfortunate for him since I am not interested in him."

 "Does your mother not want you to marry?" Osferth asked, his voice deceptively neutral. 

 Sighing, you leaned back on your hands. Eventually you knew Osferth would bring up the topic, he was your friend after all and you were certainly of marriageable age. Actually far too old to not be married by some people's standards, but you ignored them. "She does but she has told me that she will not force it upon me. She said I should make my own choice….that if I am able, I should choose love."

 You knew your mother offered you that choice in hopes your life would turn out differently than her own. 

 "But if Cedric is a good, kind man….could you not love him….or someone like him?" Osferth pressed. 

 "Perhaps. There are plenty of men I have seen who the church would call a 'good' man but are cruel in their own home, and there are many men who are calloused but it's obvious they love their wife and children. My love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. I would rather choose a man whom I know loves and cares for me than a man I know is 'good' but carries no love in his heart." You paused, the candid confession rolling off your tongue before you realized it. Sighing, you ran a hand over your hair before quietly saying. "I just….I just want someone that loves me….sinner or saint."

 Not a word was spoken as all three contemplated your statement, the silence hanging heavy like a brewing storm. Tilting your face to the sky, unable to meet the gazes of your companions, you chastised yourself for the candor with which you spoke. Osferth had asked a simple question initially and you chose to make it complicated. They did not need to know how you longed for love, how the hope for it in your potential future was what kept you going. It was foolish and you supposed after this, they would only see you as a silly girl with outlandish dreams of a storybook romance. 

 Finally, Osferth broke the silence. "Well, I shall be praying fervently for this man….hopefully he knows what he is getting into before he marries you."

 You laughed, appreciating his lighthearted comment. Reaching a hand out to smack Osferth's arm, you teased. "Keep that up and you won't be invited to my wedding."

 "Your mother will let me in."

 "Yeah, you're probably right." You glanced over in the direction of the town, regretting that your time away had to end. "I need to head back, those chores won't finish themselves."

 The three of you headed back to the town, quiet contemplation cloaking your group. Yet you feared that whatever spark lay between you and the Dane had been extinguished forever by your unexpected honesty. For still he refused to look your way, keeping his gaze focused forward. If your heart fissured within your chest, you swallowed down the pain. It was better for the spark to die out now then burn brightly only to be smothered later. 

 Or at least that was what you told yourself. 

 *****

 "What you said….about the sinners and the saints…."

 You whirled around, heart leaping into your throat with a silent scream on your tongue. In the small herb garden behind your house, you had thought you were alone. After the awkward conversation on the hill earlier that day, you sought solace in your chores. Thankfully Osferth and Sihtric headed back to meet with their companions on their own accord, leaving you to trudge through your muddled thoughts with all the grace of a newborn foal. 

 Now you found the very person who your thoughts centered on, standing just a few paces from you….and your heart began to race for a very different reason. 

 When his voice trailed off, those dark eyes that set fire licking through your veins dropped to the ground, you quietly stood up from where you had knelt, wiping the dirt from your hands, although you moved no closer. 

 "Sihtric?" You tried to prompt him. 

 "Is it true?" His piercing gaze lifted to meet yours, stealing the very breath from your lungs. "Your love doesn't discriminate?"

 "Yes." You breathed out. 

 He nodded silently before taking a step closer to you. "And what about….what about Danes?"

 Your chest pulled tight at his words, yet a coy smile grew on your lips. The flutter in your belly made your gaze drop for a moment as you tried to stifle the excitement making butterflies dance. Although this was no declaration, it was the closest the two of you had talked about what lay between you. Taking a steadying breath, you prayed this moment would not pass by without confessing the truth that you had harbored in your heart for weeks now. 

 "Not even towards Danes." You shook your head, the smile still on your lips. "And…. There is one I'm becoming quite fond of lately."

 "Yeah?" He took two steps closer, somehow moving cautiously but eating the ground with each determined step. 

 "But….do you think this Dane could be….fond of me?" You softly murmured, feeling as if your heart lay in the palms of your hands for all to see. 

 That last step separating you two disappeared almost before you finished asking your question. His hands ever so gently reached over to take yours, entwining your fingers together. The two of you stood so close, your chests almost touched with each breath you took. Your breathing seemed to cease under the intensity of his gaze and a shiver raced up your spine. Yet you had no desire to withdraw from him.

 "He would be a fool not to." He whispered, the barest hint of a tremble in his voice. "I'd bet you are constantly on this Dane's mind. That he cannot go a day without seeing your face and hearing your laugh. You are the first thought that he wakes to and the reason he falls asleep with a smile. That you have become the north star that it seems the gods have been guiding him towards for his whole life."

  As he spoke, everything faded to oblivion around you. The past and future vanished. Dane versus Saxon disappeared. The world narrowed down to this….this moment….this moment that you had dreamt of but never thought would come true. 

 The two of you continued to stand there, lost in one another's eyes with fingers intertwined. Your heart raced within your chest but a cooling breeze swept away the fears that plagued your mind. For staring at him, you knew he spoke no falsehoods. That he owned your heart just as much as you owned his. That very heart you could feel hammering away in his own chest. His eyes fervently held yours, a silent conversation, a confession, spoken only in looks but you both understood the language. His gaze dipped down to your lips, tracing them before slowly rising once again to your eyes. A curl of pleasure blossomed in your core as you witnessed the fire now in his eyes. 

 "If this Dane wanted to kiss me…. I wouldn't mind."

 A deliciously, sinful smirk teased his mouth. "As my lady commands."

 His head tilted, leaning towards yours. Unconsciously your eyelids fluttered closed. Then the briefest of touches made your knees weak and your mouth part open in a sigh. After a moment's hesitation, he continued to shower your jawline with kisses. Needing to touch him, your hands landed on his chest, feeling the tunic that covered his firm chest. Your hands moved upward to grasp the back of his neck, his pulse jumping for a second as your nails scraped his skin. His hands landed on the curve of your waist, bringing you even closer to him, erasing the unwanted space between your bodies. 

 As his lips began their ascent upward along the otherwise of your jaw, you moved. For the burning sparks in your body screamed if he did not kiss you, you would spontaneously combust. Shifting your face, you stole a kiss on his lips before he could place it on your skin. It was more of a gentle pressing of your mouths, but even then, you heard a sharp inhale from him. Before you could question him, his mouth returned to yours with soft, probing kisses that urged you to respond. Not that you would ever deny him. What started off as a gentle flame quickly became a roaring fire. Breathing became unnecessary, for how could air bring you life when your body craved Sihtric, when your lungs demanded to breathe him in instead. He led you in a drugging kiss that had you melting against him. Your lips drank from one another as if that alone could sustain you forevermore.  

 "THANK YA, GOD!!" 

 The passionate kiss abruptly ended as Sihtric and your gazes darted towards the side of your house. Only to be met with the sight of his three companions standing at the entrance in various states of smugness. 

 "Oh, for the love of Odin…." Sihtric mumbled. 

 You buried your face in Sihtric's chest, face heated in embarrassment but unable to stop the giggles that poured forth. So caught up in finally confessing your feelings and kissing the man who haunted your dreams, you forgot that anyone could walk by and see you. His arms tightened around you, keeping you within his protective, loving embrace….and you knew there was nowhere else you would rather be. 

 "Took the two of ya long enough." Finan continued, leaning against the side of your humble home with a shit-eating grin. 

 "Amen." Osferth had a small, teasing smile on his face. "Thought I would have to lock them in a room together before one of them finally confessed."

 Apparently, you and Sihtric were not as subtle as you previously thought. Now it made sense why Osferth was questioning you about Cedric and your thoughts on love and marriage earlier. Your heart flooded with gratitude towards your childhood friend, for without him you doubted neither Sihtric or you would have spoken up. Peering over, you caught Osferth's eye and mouthed a quick 'thank you'. He nodded, a simple joy radiating from his face. 

 "Lord?" Sihtric called over with a blank expression. "Permission to continue?"

 Uhtred chuckled. "I guess you've waited long enough. Go ahead." 

 Without waiting a moment longer, Sihtric tipped your face back up towards his and claimed your lips once more. You vaguely thought you heard laughter coming from the others but it all blurred away, like a faint sound while underwater. All you could see, all you could feel, all you could hear was Sihtric. 

 Just how you wanted it. 

 Suddenly you yanked your head back, your breathing labored and lips swollen. "My mother is helping at a nearby farm today. She won't be back until it's dark."

 He hummed against your skin trailing small kisses along your jawline and down your neck as if unable to keep his hands and mouth off you now that the dam had been released. 

 "I'm not as pure as Osferth thinks me to be."

 That statement made his actions stop. Carefully he raised his head to meet your gaze. "After dark?" He confirmed, voice rough in a way that sent a bolt of heat through you. 

 "Yes, she planned on having supper with them….so my home is currently empty….and I did just clean my blankets the other day…."

 He swooped in to give you a feverish, greedy kiss that left no doubt where his mind had gone. When he finally pulled back, you were surprised your legs could still hold you upright. Your whole body felt like puddy in his arms and he had only kissed you, albeit you doubted you would ever forget the way his mouth worshiped yours. 

 "You are certain? You want this?" He softly asked, staring into your eyes once more. "You want me?" 

 It was the last question, the vulnerable undertone, the hint of insecurity in it that sealed your decision. Letting your actions be your answer, you grabbed his hand and started pulling him in the direction of the door to your home. It did not take more than a second for him to come beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

 With his taste on your lips, the future did not matter right now. It did not matter that he was Dane and you were not. All you knew was Sihtric was neither a saint nor a sinner, but simply a man deserving of love. The river of your love was pointing you directly towards him, and you silently vowed to never let it run dry. 

#ems100 #mzwrites #The Last Kingdom #the last kingdom fanfic #the last kingdom fandom #the last kingdom imagine #sihtric x reader #sihtric kjartansson #Sihtric #sihtric imagine #Uhtred #Uhtred of Bebbanburg #osferth #finan #finan the agile

[oatbrew]

a perfect stranger

prompt/summary: a college-aged rosa reluctantly attends a halloween party with her roommates, which goes off course when she ends up getting rescued by a handsome off-duty lieutenant. darius morgan/rosa (mc)

shameless (10k!!) smut written for kinktober featuring the following: age difference, dry humping, thigh riding. additional warnings for harassment (not between the ship), minor d/s dynamics, sexist language, slight impregnation kink

AO3 link

+

She ought to blame her roommates for this.

“C’mon, girl, no one and I mean no one in their right minds would be studying for midterms on Halloween night of all times.”

“Miss Married to Work” they called her and not all the teasing was exactly warm. She liked her roommates well enough. But outside the automated systems that matched roommates at the beginning of every year, they weren’t the type she’d have chosen to hang out, much less live, with. Still, this was the first time she had resided somewhere outside of her parents’ house. She had spent the first two years of her undergraduate career commuting to save money. But the overbearing silence that resided in the corners of her once comfortable childhood home made staying another year at the empty house unconscionable. At least with roommates, she had an impetus to leave her apartment.

With a sigh, she agreed and let them drag her away to change into something fitting.

Or barely fitting, by their standards.

*

Thirty minutes into this house party and she could feel the regret churn in her stomach. The noise of the dubstep, the gaggle of people dancing frantically or whooping at each other’s ear, and the general smell of inebriation would have been enough to send her running out. But she’d call herself a coward if she didn’t try to endure for at least an hour.

New experiences and all, she told herself as a pep talk. If you can’t even survive a house party, how can you survive law school?

Interested glances latched onto skin she normally covered on any other day but her roommate had rejected her requests to wear her normal attire.

“How boring would it be if you were the only one there without a costume!”

Still, she couldn’t help but tug at the short hem of this slip of a dress that barely passed for a costume by the excuse of bunny ears they had slapped onto her head almost as an afterthought. She fidgeted when someone brushed too close. But not all the attention she received was as much of a turn-off as she had expected.

Some were creeps overtly leering at the curve of her cleavage but some were appreciative looks from men whom she considered attractive and wouldn’t have minded starting a conversation with. It surprised her to learn that, for all her nervousness, she enjoyed her ability to attract this kind of attention. Her primary weapon of assertion was hard work and intelligence. While she loved beautiful clothing, presenting herself to entice attraction at a purely physical level was a ground she had no anchor on.

A boy around her age wearing pirate garb did a double-take at her as he passed. She bit her lip from smiling, thrilled to do something so completely unexpected and not exactly on script of the proper girl she’d played for most her life.

She wondered what Luke would think if he saw her dressed like this.

Wait. What are you thinking about Luke for? she scolded herself.

But the thought of him was akin to dipping her body in an ice bath. The warmth and excitement that had been tentatively building in her dissipated and left her hollow.

Suddenly, a hand latched onto her arm and she shook it off until she recognized her roommate’s excited face. She could smell a little of the booze on her breath mixed with what she had already imbibed pre-gaming.

“There you are! Why are you huddled by the food table? I thought I lost you for a second. There’s a hot tub outside!”

“I didn’t bring a swimsuit.”

“Who cares? Besides, they’re setting up for beer pong in the yard.”

She pulled her arm back. “Actually, I’m gonna step outside for a quick moment. I need a bit of air.”

Her roommate rolled her eyes. “Ok, sure, whatever. Don’t take too long, all right? I promised to bring another person on my team.”

She knew the dismissive tone wasn’t meant to be unkind but she couldn’t help but wish that someone would ask her genuinely if she was all right.

Feeling the worst kind of company, she pushed through the crowd to exit and landed on the dirty steps of the porch stairs. She supposed she should be more careful of her roommate’s dress. But she didn't. The borrowed stilettos pinched her toes and it didn’t register how much her feet were throbbing until she sat.

Some start of the night, she snarked.

The city was wide awake at this hour, even more so with the holiday festivities. The children had all but dispersed, leaving college kids and adult revelers to populate the streets in their stead. The area was well lit but there were enough pedestrians in all their cheer and inebriation that she felt safe enough to drop her mask.

So it was a true surprise when some random stranger in a cheesy suit passed her perch before pausing and turning back in an exaggerated and drunken swivel. When he sat next to her, dread immediately settled on her shoulders.

Great. Now, this.

“Well, well, what’s a pretty bunny like you looking so sad by all her lonesome doing out here? Shouldn’t you be with your boyfriend this time of night?”

She cooled her nerves. “He’s inside. I should meet back with him actually.”

His lecherous gaze traced a blatant line from her face to her breasts and legs. “You in a rush, bunny? We just met. I’m sure your boyfriend can wait.”

She made to stand and return inside but he followed her with movements that seemed smoother than his inebriation would have warranted, slamming the door closed when she tried to open it.

“Leave me alone,” she ordered, willing her voice not to waver.

He cooed like he thought it was sweet. “Oh, bunny, don’t be like that—”

She didn’t know what insanity possessed him to reach towards her face and stroke it as if it was welcome. But the outrage of not even being able to mope in peace had her body recall the motions she’d practiced hundreds of times during her self-defense classes. She lifted her knee towards the softest part of him and twisted away, using his momentum against him. He yelped, clambering to catch his fall. But, instead, he tripped over his own feet and crashed hard down the porch stairs and onto the ground.

“You fucking bitch! What was that for?” His face blotched red with pulsing anger. He scrambled up, hunched over but still looking threatening as he took a step forward.

“I said, leave me alone.”

Before she could make a run for it inside, she heard the man yelp again in a mixture of alarm and pain. On the sidewalk where he curled around himself, another figure had grabbed the creep’s arm into an angle so sharp that she almost winced in commiseration before remembering that he deserved it.

“Ow, shit, man! Let me go!”

“She asked you to leave." A deep, resonant growl stiffened her spine into attention.

“Yeah, I was going!”

“If you were, why didn’t you leave the first time she asked?”

“I will, okay! I will! Just let go of my arm!”

For a moment, she believed that the other man wouldn’t and would in fact bend it even further back enough to break. He looked tempted for a moment.

“Look,” she found herself saying. “Sir, it’s fine. He was only pestering me. Rest assured, if he tried for more, I would’ve aimed for his eyes next.”

“Hey!”

Her rescuer ignored the sputtering man at his heels, his eyes studying her. He must have registered something on her face that caused him to relent and let the bastard go.

"Now, get out of here before I have you arrested,” he said quietly, lethally.

He scrambled to his feet. “C’mon, it’s not like I was doing anything she wasn’t asking for!”

“You wanna try that shit with me again?”

The low threat of violence and authority in his voice seemed to wake the creep because he launched off. They watched as he disappeared around the corner of the block as quickly as he appeared.

Her rescuer waited to see if the other man would return before he reverted his attention towards her flustered face. The adrenaline of the situation seeped away, leaving her locked muscles to sag in its wake. She could only stare blankly at the stranger in consideration.

He had tousled brown hair and a hard jaw that seemed to soften as he appraised her. Dark circles hung under his eyes and he held a mouth that seemed used to frowning, faint wrinkles accompanying its corners. He looked like someone you didn’t want to mess with, which explained why his quarry was so quick to flee. The leather jacket casually slung on his shoulder, the tattoos, and the motorcycle parked behind him only added to the warning.

But the look in his eyes was the complete opposite. She’d never seen eyes that golden or that warm for that matter.

“Are you all right, Miss?” She realized that he was repeating his words because she’d missed the first time.

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? I can get someone here from the station if you want to report him.”

“No. No, that’s not necessary.”

“You’re certain?”

“I...I had it under control.”

“I’m sure you did. But that would’ve been unpleasant for anyone to go through.”

“Nothing worse than what I’ve already faced this week,” was what her mind meant for her mouth to say. But something about the gentleness in his tone or those golden eyes absurdly, horribly caused her lip to wobble.

Oh, no.

“Miss?” He stepped closer and she burst into tears.

“I’m sorry! It’s just…” Stop! Stop speaking now. “It’s not the fact that he tried to lay a hand on me. It’s about how I’ve really been trying to push myself to go out of my comfort zone this week and the second I decided that I wasn’t going to worry and that I deserve to enjoy myself, I find some way to suck the fun out of everything. And even better, some pervert decides I’d be his perfect target so he’s just the cherry on the top of this horrible sundae of a situation. And these clothes aren’t even mine and if I had the choice, I would’ve dressed up like Jett from Turbo Warriors instead and worn shorter heels because my feet are killing me and I’ve had a pretty stressful week overall, which is why I went to this stupid party in the first place so I could blow off some steam. And my friends abandoned me to play beer pong and you’re the first kind face I’ve seen all night who hasn't wanted anything from me and the fact that you just looked after me even though you don’t know me and I—”

“Miss.” His soft voice cut through the bubble of hysteria that seemed to be growing the more she babbled. She stopped immediately, sniffling, and realized that he was handing her a handkerchief.

“Do you need me to call someone?”

She thought of the fact that there’d be no one to call. None who could come immediately anyway. She sat back on the porch steps in defeat.

“No.”

“How about a ride or money home?”

“No.”

He paused and bent his knees so they were level. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

Stupidly, her throat tightened. She shook her head, afraid to meet his eyes.

He measured her for another moment before he draped his leather jacket around her shoulders. She didn’t even realize she’d been shivering.

“How much are your feet killing you?”

“A lot,” she mumbled.

In her periphery, she watched as he rummaged through the compartment at the back of his motorcycle before returning with flip flops that were obviously his size.

“Oh, I couldn’t.”

“Don’t. I keep a spare handy whenever I change out of work clothes. It’s no bother.”

She unstrapped the stilettos, relief immediately settling between her toes.

“Thank you,” she said shyly.

“Anyway, you think your feet can handle two blocks?”

“Y-Yes?”

“All right. Then, follow me.” He started walking away and only paused when he realized she wasn’t moving.

“Um.” She wiped frantically at her face. “Where are we going?”

“Just a restaurant I know nearby. You look like you could use a pick-me-up. Some water maybe. Unless you’d rather not? I’d understand if you’re—”

She caught up to him, shoes in hand, and finished dabbing her face. “I’d love a coffee actually.”

*

Joe’s was a quaint diner at the corner of Lowood and Hilltop, an area that seemed to sit in the middle of more old-fashioned brownstones and the newer condos of the college neighborhood that bordered the university. The enclave affected an air of a past era, a pocket that had turned to vintage, old, and turned all the way back into being retro and fashionable again.

But mostly it was quiet. Homey, even.

The waitress (Jane, according to her name tag) came by with their drinks, her tired face already drawn by the lateness of the hour. She felt for the poor woman.

“Thank you.” She smiled before she turned to her companion, who was blowing softly on his cup. “I thought you’d be getting coffee.”

“I don’t actually drink caffeine. Not to my taste.”

She regarded him and his attire. Plain white t-shirt and biker jeans with a hint of a tattoo peeking behind his shirt collar and another set wrapping around both arms. She wanted to look closer to discern the design and possible meanings but that would mean ogling him. He hefted the muscles of a laborer who earned his physique through everyday work rather than a fitness devotee who shaped their body in the gym. She considered returning his jacket but she felt too cold without it.

“If I’m being honest, from first glance alone, I didn’t peg you as a chamomile type,” she joked, trying to harness some dignity back after her outburst moments ago.

“Well, I didn’t peg you as a black coffee type.”

“Sugar makes me distracted. Whenever I get caffeine, I like it plain. I need all the focus I can get when I’m pulling all-nighters.”

“You do that often? Can’t be healthy for someone still growing.” She didn’t know him well to recognize if it was true but it sounded almost as if he was teasing her.

“I’m 20. My prefrontal cortex will forgive me once I pass my bar exam.”

“You gunning to be a lawyer?”

“Yeah.”

He smiled faintly and she couldn’t help but think how it made him doubly attractive. “Makes sense. The way you were dressing down that asshole makes me believe you’d do well in court.”

For some reason, she felt immense relief at his words. As if he had validated a part of her that bore an insecurity she didn’t even know she’d been carrying.

“Really?”

He nodded. “I knew then that you could handle yourself but I’m glad that he didn’t get the opportunity to push that to the test.”

“My, um, friend and I took martial arts as a kid. He took it more seriously than me but I kept at it because I had a feeling I’d need some form of self-defense in the future.”

His face hardened with an unhappy expression. “I’m sorry you have to deal with things like that.”

“Well, yes, part of it was because I’m a woman. But the other part was because when I realized I wanted to be a lawyer, I knew I needed some way to protect myself.”

“You’ve thought this through.”

She took a sip of her coffee, flinching a little when it scalded her tongue. She always got a little too excited whenever she had someone willing to hear her thought trains out.

“You know that newcomer attorney on the news lately? Artem Wing?”

His lips curved with amusement. “I’m familiar.”

“I want to be exactly like him. It always inspired me how much he was already doing despite how young he was. By the time he was my age, he was already at the top of his class in law school. But sadly I’m not a genius so I have to go through the whole thing slowly the old-fashioned way.”

“Nothing wrong with a little old-fashionedness.”

“Of course. It’s just,” she faltered, tried to get her thoughts together. “The friend I mentioned who I took classes with—he's something of a genius, too. He moved to the capital to attend NCU because he got admitted early. And while I’m proud of him, it also makes me feel like I could be doing more. His efforts push me to keep working harder.”

“Careful though that you don’t push yourself too much.”

She recalled the overwhelming stress of her workload this past week and shrugged. “It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

He chuckled a little as if realizing that perhaps he’d leaned too hard as a nag. “It’s admirable, how much energy the youth have.”

She narrowed her eyes. “How old are you exactly?”

“33.”

“That’s hardly old,” she scoffed.

“Trust me. You think the aches start when you’re middle-aged? No, it starts in your 30s. Wake up with your back aching for no damn reason and it doesn’t matter the number, you’ll start feeling old regardless.”

“Really?” She couldn’t help but laugh that this tough-looking guy could complain about something so banal.

“I’m not kidding. Anyway, I gotta give you something to look forward to in a decade.”

“Maybe in a decade, I’ll be just like Artem Wing.”

“Maybe by then, you’ll be even better.” He said it so simply, as if he was stating an honest fact as the weather. She fell silent for a moment in wonder at how he could hold so much faith in a total stranger.

She looked at her cup shyly. “Thank you. I actually really needed to hear something like that.”

“Sounds like you’ve had a day. Maybe even a week,” he observed. “If I remember correctly, you said that your friends weren’t there to watch over you.”

“It sounds worse when I put it like that. My roommates are friendly enough but we’re not close. I don’t normally go to parties with them so I didn’t really know what to expect.”

“Not an excuse for them to abandon you.”

It heartened her that he would immediately go to her defense. “I only meant to step out for a second to get some air. It was just…”

She looked up, meeting his patient expression and she could no longer help but be openly frank. “It’s just been lonely. My parents and my friend have been gone for a while. And I've taken for granted having someone like them live with me. It’s not the same now. For example, I have this habit of leaving out Post-It notes on the fridge or my roommate’s books with, y'know, silly little platitudes. ‘Have a good day,’ ‘Take it easy,’ ‘Don’t forget to drink water,’—that kind of thing. That’s the kind of comfort and affection I’d share with my loved ones before. And my roommates don’t really understand it. And I’m not saying I’m the type of person who expects to be best friends with everybody. I get that maybe they vibe at a different frequency than me and I can accept that. But when who you are works best with certain people and then suddenly, they’re no longer there… I guess what I’m saying is that it’s hard to feel comfortable being in your own skin sometimes by yourself. And it's even harder to step outside and take risks when no one’s there to catch your fall.”

She sighed, rubbing her eyes before realizing too late that she was worsening her already messy makeup. She must look like a raccoon to him right now. How perfect. What a sad, pathetic portrait she must have painted for this poor man.

But instead of derision she only heard his gentle chuckle. “I get that. I pretty much live alone, which suits me well enough most of the time. But…”

She waited, earnest with her patience because he had afforded her the same.

“But sometimes when I want to complain about work or if I’m reading something funny and I want to share it with someone, it’s hard when you don’t have that waiting for you at home.”

“I’m sure your friends and family would love to hear from a book you think is funny,” she ventured since she was operating with little information.

“Oh, I’m sure the guys at work would enjoy that to an extent. But I’m talking about what you said: this difference between the people you can have fun with and the people you can live with. If you’re lucky, your loved ones can be both but that’s not always the case.”

She knew what he meant. There were people you could be friendly with but only a few that you could share your truest self with. The kind of people who were in some ways inevitable because you could see your place with them at every stage of your lives. She knew that Luke and her parents would return and it was that fact that kept her from complaining or grieving their absence. But in doing so, she had kept herself from admitting how terribly lonely she was and it had backfired on her tonight.

But as she looked at her companion and considered the turn of events that landed her here with him, perhaps not.

In some ironic way, she felt her problems shrink in the face of his. She wondered if he had people like that in his life. How terrible it’d be if a man who would keep a lonely stranger company wouldn’t have someone to return the favor when he went home. She’d noticed him mention his work friends but no allusion to a family.

Her brain struggled for words, something comforting without sounding pitiful or trite. But before she could piece them out, she heard him chuckle again with derision that seemed self-directed.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to unload that on you. That was pretty odd, I’ll admit.”

“No! I-I’m happy that you told me. Not that I’m happy about what you said but that you would share that with me. It made me feel better in a way. Not that your loneliness makes me feel better, that’s not what I’m—actually, forget everything I said—”

“No, you don’t have to explain. I get you,” he said, amusement returning. Her nerves settled and for some unfathomable reason, seeing his warm eyes and his easy expression, she really believed that he did.

This stranger really did get her.

She wanted to laugh a little as they continued to drink in perfect silence. For the first time since her parents left, she’d met another person whose quiet she could be comfortable with.

Jane’s reappearance broke the peace when she returned with the check, which he insisted on paying. The dim realization that they’d have to separate soon cooled the warmth of his jacket.

She clenched her teeth from shivering as they stepped out into the cold autumn air and walked back to his motorcycle.

“So... Jett from Turbo Warriors, huh?” he broached, breaking her out of her thoughts.

“Huh?”

“You said that if you had the choice, you’d dress like Jett from Turbo Warriors.”

She blushed but her chest felt easy. “Yeah. I’m a huge fan actually.”

It was hardly the most embarrassing thing to admit that she was such a nerd over a children’s cartoon, especially after everything else she said. Something about the spell they created between them made it easy to confess such things.

As if he felt it too, he shrugged. “More of an Ancient Ranger man myself.”

She couldn’t help but laugh at that. “What?”

“Yeah. Never got the appeal of people fighting in spacesuits.”

“Oh, as if Ancient Ranger isn’t just a fantasy retread of Turbo Warriors.”

“In case you didn’t know, 'young one,' Ancient Ranger was a comic book series first before Turbo Warriors even released. Besides, Turbo hasn’t made a good episode since the original series ended.”

She took childish delight in mocking him. “Ahhh, I see. You’re one of those purist old farts.”

“And you’re a reboot heretic.”

“Only a true fan would stay faithful.”

“Only someone with no taste would think the reboot is any good.”

They both looked at each other and laughed. It was nice to have such a silly conversation with no real stakes in it.

She clutched his jacket tighter as they approached the townhouse, which hadn’t faltered in its noise and excitement. She checked her phone and realized with a little sadness that her roommates hadn’t thought to call or text her in concern. Normally, she’d let it fester but tonight the feeling was only a twinge that faded in a second. While she fiddled with her phone, she watched from the corner of her eye as he lingered by his motorcycle. He was apparently trying to look as busy as she was.

She found that she didn’t want to give up his jacket so easily.

“Hey.”

He arched an eyebrow. “What?”

“You have any other plans tonight?”

*

He looked a little out of place in her apartment, she had to admit.

But there was something about his hulking figure perusing her bookshelf in her tiny bedroom that made both her chest and her thighs clench.

“Dynasty Fate VII?” he tipped the plastic case of the video game with sardonic warmth. “This game hasn’t even been localized yet.”

She shrugged. “Would it be nerdy of me to say that I couldn’t wait to play the game so I just bought the foreign version?”

“Incredibly nerdy. Don’t tell me you go to forums scouring for fan translations because you’re impatient?”

“Only a fellow nerd would know that.”

He chuckled before glaring at her with mock seriousness. “Is this why you brought me up here? To make fun of the old guy?”

“You’re hardly old. And no, that’s not the only reason why.” She reached behind a stack of law reference books and took out a disc case that was still wrapped in its packaging.

“Are you serious?” he burst out with a little laugh when he read the title.

“I know. This took me a whole day of fighting and outbidding a little old lady online to win it.”

It was the Director’s Edition of the original Turbo Warriors series, which was the Holy Grail for collectors. It featured commentary from the series creator, a few bits of which were online. But none featured the full track. When she explained it to her roommates, they indulged her well enough. But looking at his face, she knew he’d be the one to fully appreciate what this was.

“I hope you went gentle on her.”

“Nope. Showed her no mercy. Anyway, we could watch in the living room.” She paused. “But I also have a laptop and we can watch on my bed if you like.”

He took a moment to reply. “Living room sounds good.”

She nodded, swallowing her dismay when he left. She considered her closet before changing her mind and following him out with the disc. He had settled on the lumpy sofa, looking quite at home.

“You don’t want to change?” he asked when she had set up the TV and sat a safe distance away from him.

“I...like wearing your jacket. It’s warm.” Plus, if she changed to her pajamas, she didn’t know if her allure would remain.

“Not that I blame you. It’s my favorite thing to wear any time I’m on my bike.”

“So no chance of me keeping it as a souvenir?”

He smiled lazily. “No chance at all.”

“Not even if I paid you?” she teased.

“Not even then.”

“C’mon...is it because you don’t trust me?”

“That’s not it.”

“Maybe it’s just because you don’t like Turbo reboot fans and have a vendetta against us.”

His smile widened enough that he looked much, much younger. “Liking you isn’t the problem.”

“It isn’t?”

“I actually like you a little more than is good for either of us.”

She held her breath. Because, no, she didn’t mistake the tattered edge in his voice when he looked away, his eyes fixating on the screen. The opening intro was halfway through but for the life of her, it couldn’t keep her attention long enough.

“Is that a bad thing?”

He didn’t answer. Instead, he cleared his throat. “You know, when you asked me to come up, I really should’ve said no.”

Disappointment flooded her, the heat of the moment gone in an instant. “Oh. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“It’s not that. I wanted to decline for your sake. I know how it can look to your neighbors inviting an older guy into your place at midnight of all times.”

“You're worried about my reputation?”

“I know it’s no one’s business what you do but I don’t want to cause you trouble.”

“You’re not. You’ve done nothing but bring me the opposite of trouble since we met. I didn’t...it just felt important to me that we weren’t alone tonight.”

He didn’t reply to that either though he did seem to contemplate her answer deeply as they watched the familiar first scene of the episode. The room fell silent but her mind was buzzing; she could hardly pretend to pay attention. She snuck a peek and saw him focused on the screen. Her nerve failed. She didn’t want to distract him, but surely she wasn’t the only one imagining that this silence wasn’t comfortable. It was almost as if they were on the precipice of doing something impulsively stupid. Reckless and dangerous, even, and it was only a matter of who would break and commit first.

When the main character nearly died during the infamous air bike chase scene, she couldn’t keep up the impasse.

“Is it like that every time?”

He blinked. “What is?”

“Riding a motorcycle.”

“You liked it?” His mouth quirked, pleased.

She nodded. “It felt like I was somehow flying and about to fall off the seat the entire ride.”

“You wouldn't have."

"I know. You wouldn’t have let me so I wasn’t worried.”

His amused voice softened into seriousness. “No, I definitely wouldn’t have. Still, I didn’t think you’d be such an adrenaline junkie.”

“Well, sometimes I think it’s important to do things that scare you.”

That dangerous, weighted silence wedged between them again. When he cast a sideways glance at her, his voice was as low as she’d ever heard it. “Do I scare you?”

She could only be honest and wondered how her own voice turned so husky. “Only in the best way.”

They stared at each other, not even bothering the pretense anymore. She didn’t know who came forward first. She didn't know whether it was the heated look he’d given her or the throaty want in her voice that triggered it. But somehow her hands clutched tight on his shirt and his had taken off his jacket from her and found residence on the small of her back.

He tasted like tea. Bitter, but soft.

She wanted more.

But before she could truly lose herself, he broke off as he leaned away, breathing heavily.

No, no, come back. You're too far.

“We shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

He shook his head. “You’re young.”

“And?”

“Have you even done this before?”

She fidgeted but kept her eyes firm. “No. But that hardly matters as long as we’re honest throughout.”

“That’s not the issue.”

“Then enlighten me.”

“You’re a sweet girl. A kind girl. You deserve to be taken out to some nice restaurant on a proper date, be courted, and brought roses. Not this. Whatever this is.”

She felt proper irritation at that. “Funny how you seem to know more than me about what I’m like and what I want.”

“That’s not what I meant. I just don’t want you to do anything that you might regret. Hell, I wish I could give you the flowers and the dinner. But you’re not even out of college yet. You have more time to find all that out yourself and do things at your own pace. You don’t deserve to have your first time taken by an old bastard like me.”

“Old by whose standards? Anyway, I don’t care. None of that matters. Virginity’s fake anyways.”

He shook his head as if switching tactics. “A little while ago, some pervert harassed and nearly attacked you. I don’t think you’re in the right frame of mind to be making decisions like this.”

Frustration steeled her resolve. There was a reason why she did so well in debate class.

“A little while ago, I had plans to have dumb, mindless fun, which is something I never do. And I told myself that if I ended up fooling around with someone I wanted enough to do it with tonight, then I’d be ready for it. I’ve spent 20 years having people think that I’m a proper girl, whatever that’s supposed to mean. And for once, I’d like to mess around and be my age and not have it be this significant thing that I have to do properly. I’m not expecting anything except for us to enjoy ourselves. I’m not expecting romance. And I’m not expecting you to give me special treatment like I’m some porcelain doll. So, I’m asking you, as respectfully as I can: would you like to get off with me or not because if you don’t, then we can just part ways as friends now and I can finish myself off with my vibrator when you leave, no harm done.”

For the first time tonight, he looked genuinely taken aback like she had pulled the rug from underneath his feet and thrown a situation onto him that he didn’t know how to handle. But he seemed to collect his wits quickly and she envied him a little for how practiced he was at being unflappable.

“You’ve thought about this a lot.”

“Just because I haven’t had sex before doesn’t mean I don’t know what my body wants or likes.”

He looked at her like she said something completely unintelligible. She waited for him to agree or not but when he remained mute, she moved back, uncertainty unsettling her initial daring.

“Ok, look, as I said, if you’re unwilling, we can just—”

Without warning, he grabbed her by the waist and she landed roughly but perfectly onto the center of his lap. Her hands grasped his chest by instinct to brace her weight. Even caught in the sudden whiplash of confusion, the reality of the situation sunk into her toes.

The gentle but very real rise and fall of his chest was no fantasy she could conjure. He was solid underneath her, all flesh and muscle and sweat. A man much older who had seen more, known more, and who was looking at her with a hunger of someone who knew exactly what he wanted and exactly what he was doing. This was completely uncharted waters. Her nerves fluttered her pulse to a stutter but never had she felt so awake and conscious of her own heartbeat until now.

Her bravado swirled with her apprehension so she cleared her throat and kept her attention fixed onto the gold of his irises, which seemed to darken even more as they watched her tongue lick her lips. He smelled amazing, a more potent form hinted by his jacket, some masculine kind of sweat or cologne or something and she was sorely tempted to sniff his neck before realizing how weird that would be.

“So...you’re interested?”

He pressed her down onto his lap as a gesture. “What do you think?”

She licked her lips again and for a moment, he looked frustrated enough that she almost thought he’d lick it for her.

“How...how should we start?”

“I’ll follow your lead. This is your show.”

“Um. I know it seemed like I had a whole step-by-step plan coming onto this but it’s a little different fantasizing about it, watching two bad actors onscreen pretend to enjoy it, and then actually having to do it for yourself...”

His surprised laugh was a slow, rich, rolling thing and she shivered at how close she was that she could feel the vibrations of it on her skin.

“I got you. Well, you say you know what your body wants. What is it telling you?”

His study of her was one of immeasurable patience like he really intended to figure things out with her for as long as it took.

“It wants you to touch it,” she whispered, honesty softening her voice to a lower pitch.

“Show me where.”

Her left hand took his right one and slowly ushered it to her breasts. His other hand flirted with the zipper at the side of her dress before he pulled it down, letting the fabric free to pool around her waist. Once he’d unhooked her bra one-handed with a quick snap (which was attractive in its own right), she was free for him to study. She’d never been topless in front of a man before, someone she only just met no less. And his appreciative glance kept her from indulging the impulse to cover her chest. Tethered to the motion of pleasuring herself with both their hands, she continued to direct him in the way she knew would incite the most arousal.

“This all right?” he murmured, so focused on what he was doing that she almost giggled at how adorable it was that he seemed intent on getting it right.

She beckoned him to squeeze harder and when he obeyed her orders, she whispered in his ear almost like a reward. “Sometimes when I’m really into it, I like to twist my nipples, too.”

It was fascinating how she could feel him harden even more underneath her in real-time. But he kept his focus on his task like an obedient gentleman. He flicked a thumb at her nipple, fascinated by how it also hardened under his touch.

“Like that?”

She nodded fervently, hissing when he pinched it between his fingers.

“You can tell me to stop any time.”

“Keep going.”

He hummed. She could feel him growing excited the louder she whined when he flicked her nipple again. “What else, sweetheart?”

“Lick me.”

“Where?”

“Wherever you like.”

He didn't even give it a thought before he settled for tasting a strip down the line between her breasts. She gasped.

“Been wanting to do that all night.”

“Really?”

“Tried not to think about it. It’s hardly proper.”

“To hell with being proper.”

She pressed her lips against his, and it would’ve been almost sweet (romantic even, but she banished that) if he wasn’t also playing with her nipples simultaneously. The sensation made her wild enough that she barely registered when he was leaning away from her frenzy.

“Slow, baby. Gentle,” he murmured with a chuckle. And he stole her apology away when he bent towards her again. Her embarrassment of her inexperience fled as they matched each other's pace, moving her lips more in tandem with his. It was an indulgence how he seemed intent on kissing her like that was all he planned to do for the rest of the night. Feeling greedy but a little more tempered, she opened her mouth a little to prod her tongue on his lips and his response was immediate, wet, warm.

Hot.

It was the hottest thing she’d ever done. The sudden upsurge of tension emboldened her hips to start rocking against him, mimicking the strokes of his tongue, imagining with a little carnal thrill whether that'd be the pace they’d be setting for later. His stubble rubbed roughly against her chin deliciously and it made her seek an even rougher kind of friction. Her hips instinctually arranged themselves to better position the wet spot of her underwear with the bulge of his pants. Every time they made contact, her mind slipped into incoherence a little bit more.

They played with each other for a while, his mouth sucking her tongue like he wanted to learn exactly what she tasted like before they separated to latch onto unoccupied skin, necking like a couple of teenagers. His musk was stronger behind his ear and she wished she could roll around in it so she could smell like him all the time. She nibbled hard at the side of his neck, her hands winding through his hair, wondering with delight if she’d leave a little bit of herself on him for tomorrow. He must have been thinking the same as he seemed intent on leaving as many hickeys on her that he could. She vaguely realized that she had slid from his lap to his thigh and the hard muscle underneath her was just another opportunity she knew she could exploit. She freed her neck from his attention and his head followed by instinct, growling when she leaned away from him. Her hands propped themselves onto his shoulders and she couldn’t help but smirk at his frustration.

“I bet I could get off just by rubbing myself on your leg alone.”

The frustration ebbed into intrigued desire and he matched her grin. “Yeah? Show me.”

She pushed the cover of her underwear to the side of her pussy and swore she could feel him twitching at the glimpse of her completely bare. Without preamble, she started to grind on his leg, the texture of his pants causing some friction. But it was the groove of the pocket that rubbed her clit just the right way.

“Oh, yes!” she gasped. She tried it again. And again.

She could faintly register how he egged her on. “Fuck, that’s it. That’s it, baby. Make a mess on me.”

He kept his hands on her waist so she wouldn’t fall over as they both watched, spellbound by how fluidly she seemed to bear down on him. At her wetness that was seeping into the fabric of his pants. She wondered if it would stain, wondered if it’d still be there even after he washed it. She wondered if he’d keep it regardless.

Her movements turned shameless as she rutted onto him like a bitch in heat, her fingers making quick work to assist. But pleasurable as it was, it wasn’t enough to bring her to completion. As if sensing her frustration at being edged so closely, his hands gripped her thighs as he flipped them onto the couch and replaced her fingers with his own. They were callused, rough, and exactly what she needed.

One hot lick on her clit and she was screaming. Her sudden orgasm dragged down her body in waves and he held her thighs through it all, mercilessly dragging his tongue up and down her slit while his thumb rubbed her little circle of nerves in tandem.

She’d feel sorrier that her hand had found its way to his hair again. But her grip seemed to make him groan in pleasure, which suggested that he liked a little bit of that pain. When she came down, he was kissing the skin of her inner thighs, pupils blown black and hazy with lust.

“What...what else did you think of doing to me tonight?” she asked, out of breath.

He didn’t seem to have the patience to play coy. “I was thinking of fucking you with my cock until you scream like that again.”

She felt herself practically flood from the nonchalant heat in his voice alone. They wasted no time as she helped him out of his shirt and pants. When he stepped out of his briefs and threw it carelessly behind him, she simply had to take a moment and stare. His arousal practically twitched and while she’d never imagined giving oral in her fantasies, she wondered a little how easily she seemed to salivate as she practically panted over him.

��I want you inside of me,” she could only say as she dumped all the contents of her purse onto the coffee table. She feverishly grabbed one of the condoms she’d saved as a wish earlier that night.

“You have me.” He helped her slide the rubber onto him, grunting a little when her knuckles grazed the side of his shaft. For a second, uncertainty stilled her movements and she wavered as she sat back on his now naked thigh.

“What do you need, baby?” he asked gently.

“I need a little help, um, positioning myself onto you.”

“Come here.” He beckoned her to hover above him, bracing herself again on his shoulders. She bit her lip when she felt him circle the tip of his cock onto her slit before it poked through her opening. She felt herself stretch, stretch, before—

“Wait. Stop.”

He stilled.

“What’s wrong?” Concern broke through the lust on his face.

“You’re just...you’re much bigger than my vibrator, that’s all.” She tried to play it off with a laugh but her breath shook. She tamped down her panic when his concern translated into him actually urging her to her feet and taking off the condom.

Oh God, was he done with her? Had he given up?

“No, no, I didn’t want to stop. I’m sorry. Let’s try again.”

“Don’t be. I should’ve warmed you up better.” He paused. “Now that I think about it, go get your vibrator.”

“What?”

“I have an idea.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I don’t want us to force it if you’re not ready yet. So go get your vibrator and teach me how you fuck yourself.”

Something must have connected in the synapses of her brain because she hurried to her room, uncaring of her nakedness or that she must have looked so silly rummaging underneath her bed for her special box. She almost jumped when she spotted him by the doorway.

Self-consciousness warred with her urgency as she parsed through the contents, some of it scattering on her comforter when she took out the case she kept her toys in.

“What’s this?”

She almost groaned when she saw that he’d taken the tied pile of cards that had drifted on the side of her bed.

“Um. Postcards from sleep-away camp when I was little. They’re affirmations campers write to each other on the last day of camp,” she babbled distractedly as she cleared away the other contents. “You’re meant to write nice stuff about the friends you made while you were there and everyone gets to keep the cards others have written for them. It’s…meant to affirm the best qualities that people see in you.”

“You make the best smores,” he read, his eyes crinkling with humor. “There are a lot of these. You must have had a lot of friends.”

“I was a nice girl,” she said, letting out a little giggle when he took her vibrator from her.

“You keep your sex toys with your childhood postcards?” He raised an eyebrow at the other paraphernalia she kept secretly in her little chest.

“I didn’t have anywhere else to put it,” she said, unable to help her defensive petulance.

He shook his head, his eyes softening with something almost like fondness. “You are just—”

“Just what?”

“Nothing. I think I really do get you now.”

“What do you mean?”

“You’re right. You’re not a doll. You don’t need to be handled with kid gloves. And you’re certainly not the nice little girl who these postcards are writing about.”

She felt her breath shudder. She had never felt more naked, physically or otherwise. “I can be nice. I can be good, even. But sometimes I don’t want to be.”

“You've been telling me all night, haven’t you? But I don’t think I’ve been hearing it until now.” He swept the rest of the items off her bed and turned on the toy. The pink silicon buzzed to life and the way she clenched at the sound was practically a Pavlovian response.

He handed her the toy. “Tell me again what you've really been asking for.”

She licked her lips in excitement. “I...I want you to treat me like a slut.”

He smiled and it didn’t seem so gentle or kind this time. He grasped his cock with a lazy twist as he stood by her bed. He stroked languidly like he had all the time in the world when he nodded towards her pillow.

“Get on the bed and lie down. Take that pillow and put it under your hips so I can watch properly.”

She did as he commanded, positioning herself as she did on any other night when she was too aroused and restless to go to sleep and wanted to masturbate without waking her roommate next door.

“Before we continue, I want you to pick a safeword for any time we need to stop.”

“Um. Postcards.”

He grinned, amused. “Dirty girl. No. It has to be a word you wouldn’t use normally in bed.”

She gave it serious thought. “Race car.”

“Good. Now spread your legs and show me.”

She licked her fingers and started absentmindedly stroking herself as she fiddled with the buttons of her vibrator. When she was comfortable, she started to circle it around her clit in tight, small strokes. She could feel him watching with such intensive study and it was distracting enough that she closed her eyes and tried to focus on his voice.

“What do you think about when you touch yourself?”

She contemplated the question earnestly and wondered how honest she should be. Before she could even think of something to say, he interrupted her, “And if you lie to me, I’ll know.”

There was a casual threat underlying his words and she shivered because it sounded like he really meant it. She wondered how many people had confessed to him their worst sins and crimes based on the timbre of his voice alone.

“I meet someone...for a date.”

He hummed encouragingly and she could hear a condom wrapper rip.

“We'd met through a dating website. And he’s sweet and nice and everything my parents dream of. But someone else has been watching us. Someone completely wrong for me. And I’ve been watching him back but I’ve been pretending not to.”

“Because that’s what good girls do?”

“Y-Yes. I wouldn’t—I shouldn’t even think to look at him in my peripheral.”

“But you still do, don’t you? Because you’re not the good girl that you pretend you are.”

“No. I’m not.” She swallowed and let the phallus enter her with a smooth stroke. The vibrations bounced off her walls familiarly but his added presence made the whole routine more intense. “I…I excuse myself to the bathroom but really I’m just pretending to be busy. I’m washing my hands but the second I hear someone come in and the lock clicks behind me, I know what’s going to happen.”

“What does?” He sounded closer to her ear and her thrusts increased a bit in speed.

“He corners me, holds me tight by the waist. His hands are rough and dirty on my skin."

"How rough?"

"Enough to bruise me."

"Go on."

"We don’t speak a word through it all but he knows I’ve been staring at him all night when I should’ve been paying attention to my date. I think he can tell from the way my thighs have been clenching.”

“Yeah?”

“I’ve been aching. I’ve been wanting him to fill me all night.”

“And does he?”

She hissed when the tip hit a particularly sensitive part of herself. But it felt the wrong kind of good, like pain bordering on pleasure.

She answered, trying to get her wits together, “He slips a hand under my skirt, through my panties, strokes me through the fabric. Then he fingers me until I’m shaking."

"How many times does he get you off?"

"T-Twice. And when I’m wet and ready, he takes me from behind until I cum again in that dirty bathroom. And I keep thinking how everyone outside must know. That they can hear the sounds we’re making. My date must know I have a complete stranger’s cock in my pussy while he’s waiting for me.”

He growled, pleased, and turned on. “Dirty little slut. I bet you let him cum in you too, don’t you?”

Her hips were matching to meet her strokes. She didn’t dare speak but only nodded, not trusting her voice.

“You’d let him fuck you raw. Little whore that you are would like that, thinking you might’ve gotten knocked up by some bastard you don’t even know.”

“Y-Yes,” she cried.

“Then what would your parents think? To realize that their good little girl is a fucking dirty slut all along.”

“Oh fuck,” she cursed the word for the first time and felt thrilled when he groaned along with her. “Please, please fuck me!”

“Yeah, that’s it. Show me how he’d fuck you. How I’d fuck you.”

Her hips sped up, the toy practically slamming into her with a brutal pace and she could barely figure out at what point during her fantasy he’d taken over for her.

Her eyes fluttered open and watched as if under a hazy, feverish light. His thick forearm tensed with the speed she needed, his other hand possessing the skin above her stomach, and she was so painfully close again that when he turned up the vibrations to the next level of intensity, her second orgasm came barrelling down on her like a silent crash. She must have squeaked out something but her mind was so muddled, it could barely catch up with the realization that he’d taken the toy out and replaced it with his own cock.

“Oh my God, oh my God,” she sang when he unrelentingly started to slam into her with the same pace she’d used with her vibrator. He was bigger than anything she’d fucked herself with in the past but he slid into her so fluidly that it seemed almost impossible that she had struggled with his girth in the beginning. Not when he fit her so perfectly.

The bed squeaked with their added weight, joining the chorus of his slams, her gasps, the slight squelch where his cock met her pussy. The aftershocks of her orgasm lingered and jolted through her and she could only hold on for dear life at the continuous flow of pleasure the vibrations her toy and his thrusts brought every time they connected.

He was nearly silent except for the grunts and the moans he kept suppressed in his throat.

“Don’t hold back,” she whined, then whimpered when he pressed the vibrator harder on her clit. “It turns me on how good you sound.”

As if the floodgates broke with her permission, he groaned, “Fucking hell, you’re so beautiful like this.”

It was so honest and unexpectedly pure that she laughed and it was hot knowing that he could probably feel it where they were connected.

“I never…I never thought it could be this good,” she babbled, barely breathing as she melted onto the bed.

“Neither did I. God, how did I luck out in meeting you?” he rasped, something like tortured pleasure in the furrow of his brow.

She begged herself not to say something stupid like his body was made for hers or something. Instead, she hedged for a near truth.

“I love how you fit me. I love how good you feel inside me.”

He looked a little proud and he propped himself on his elbows as he bent forward to give her a kiss that was more tongue and spit than lips.

“What a good girl you are. My good fucking girl.”

When she clenched involuntarily, his smile turned feral. “Oh, you like that. You like when I praise you like that?”

She whimpered when he thrust into her with such force it left her breathless.

“Look at you. So perfect. Such a perfect cunt just for me. It’ll never be like this again. Your sweet, tight pussy was made to fit me. You were made to fit me. Only me.”

She couldn’t believe that he echoed her secret sentiments and though she tried not to, her chest swelled with affection. A bead of sweat slid down from his forehead to his nose and she wanted to lick him so she did. She kissed him again and ached with the sweetness of it.

“Yes, yes, it’s yours.” It was easier to attach her feeling of devotion to something carnal. Because to claim that her whole self, her best parts and her worst, belonged entirely to him was broaching what they agreed upon.

They were so slippery with sweat and their shared cum but it only made her want to hold onto his back even tighter.

“I’m close,” he grunted out to her lips.

“I can feel you,” she whispered. He rubbed his nose against her own and she felt herself get lost in that gold. “It’s okay. I got you.”

She watched in wonder as his own orgasm hit him. It started with his brows, then a quiver of his eyes, his muscles which seemed to lock into stillness. It ended with unfettered moans that had been dragged brokenly out his throat as his hips jutted unevenly with a rapid twitching motion that arrived in violent succession. She knew her own third orgasm would barely rival the first two but it was so sweetened by the secret pleasure and indulgence to watch him truly lose it that she really didn’t mind.

When the dust settled, he all but collapsed on her and they breathed together, content to feel each other skin-to-skin. She couldn’t stop touching him.

“Fuck me to hell,” he groaned in sated exhaustion.

She giggled. “Yes. That was the idea, wasn’t it.”

“Smart brat.” He nipped her shoulder in warning before muttering groggily into the vicinity of her neck, “When’re your roommates coming home?”

She stroked his hair languidly as if in apology for how she treated it earlier. “I don’t know and I don’t particularly care.”

“Where’s your bathroom then?”

“The room right across from me.”

He picked his limbs away from her and she admired his backside. It was silly to miss him when he disappeared since he returned only a minute later with two damp washcloths. They wiped each other clean in silence and for some reason, the mutual intimacy of it made her fidget more than anything of what they just did.

He seemed to think similarly because she recognized that he had grown quiet, his eyes a little distant.

“Only me” seemed to echo around the room like a gunshot.

“I wasn’t too rough on you, was I?”

“You gave back as much as I could take and vice versa,” she replied simply. “I wouldn’t have wanted it any other way.”

He was watching something on her hip and she looked down to see the mottled blue that she knew would bruise by tomorrow.

“I can leave soon if you’d like.”

She tipped his chin to look at her. “No. Unless you want to, of course. But I… I’d like you to stay the night.”

He was contemplative and she resisted the urge to fidget.

Trying to be nonchalant, she added, “Besides, we didn’t even finish the first episode of the show.”

When he smiled wryly, she tried not to linger on her relief.

“You’re right.”

“Of course I am. We should probably clean up the living room though and watch it here instead to, um, avoid any mishaps.”

He chuckled. “Well then, lead the way. I'll follow."

*

Truly, she meant to at least finish the first episode.

But her bed and ratty pajamas were so welcoming, her limbs and mind exhausted and his presence so safe and solid that her mind cottoned into the incoming waves of sleep and surrendered.

Her awakening was a little less gentle.

Her phone alarm blared, a shrieking sound she had never bothered to change because it was too effective in keeping her from going back to bed.

It only took her a few minutes to realize that she was alone. And she didn't know how she was so certain that he was gone entirely but she was. Her room was as clean as she kept it, the laptop shut on her desk, and his side of the bed smooth and untouched. The only aberration was his jacket slung on her computer chair and the disc case on her nightstand table, a series of friendly, yellow Post-It Notes stuck on top.

She could hardly read.

Thank you for a great night. I meant what I said about the roses but you deserve the kind of guy who can take all your good and bad, and give as much back. I’ll never forget what we shared. Keep the jacket. It looks better on you.

Your friend, always, if you’ll have me the next time.

It was as much of a goodbye as anything else he could have written.

He hadn’t woken her up and he left no contact number.

It should have grieved her greatly. But even with such feelings, she couldn’t feel regret for any of it. She traced the elegant penmanship on the note, trying to match the beautiful loops with his rough and callused hands. Upon closer inspection, she realized that there was more to the note behind it. Un-sticking the first layer, she saw the words:

Have a good day.

The next revealed: Take it easy.

And the last. Don’t forget to drink water.

She couldn’t help it. She laughed, full and unbridled and much too loud for the morning as her grief completely left her.

“Looks like someone had a fun night.” Her roommate grinned, her head peeking behind her door.

“What do you mean?” Had she caught him this morning?

“Oh, girl. Don’t even pretend. I know what sex hair looks like. And your room reeks of it. Was he cute at least?”

She bit her lip from smiling. “Yeah.”

“Well, I’m glad you had fun.” The grin turned friendlier this time. “Noticed you were looking rough around the edges the past few days so I’m glad the party worked.”

She didn’t feel compelled to correct her. As she returned the smile, she realized that perhaps, flawed as it was, that a genuine friendship of care could bloom with her roommates after all. Perhaps, she shouldn’t have dismissed the chance of it so easily just because they showed their affection differently than she did.

“Thanks. For the invite, I mean.”

“Oh, please. But do text one of us if you’re going to disappear and run off with some strange boy.”

She checked her phone and realized that she had missed a few messages and calls after all.

“I’m sorry for making you worry.”

Her friend rolled her eyes good-naturedly. “Whatever. Well, anyway, we’re getting brunch. Mimosas on me. You can even invite your new boy toy if you want.”

The other woman flounced off, leaving her to parse through the vestiges of sleep and the hazy, almost dreamlike quality of what had happened the night before.

But that had been no dream. And the day after wasn’t either.

She traced the notes again, feeling a little sad and immensely grateful, and didn’t know exactly what to feel after when she realized that she had never asked for his name.

*

It wasn’t that she was heartbroken the next few weeks.

But she learned that she usually worked harder whenever she was feeling out of sorts and her grades for the midterm exams were never better.

The weeks passed, then months.

Sometimes, she walked by Joe’s on purpose and couldn’t stop her neck from craning to see if a familiar patron was in attendance. Sometimes, she’d glimpse someone with a similar haircut from the back and hesitate just enough for whoever was walking with her to ask what made her stop. Sometimes, she’d meet a person with similarly colored eyes and wondered if they were a relative.

But life went on and so did she.

Her memory of him softened into something akin to nostalgia. Something treasured but certainly something ephemeral in comparison to everything else in her life. Fate had only meant for them to cross paths once and she accepted that to be enough.

It was only after a few years passed and she nabbed a coveted internship as a paralegal for Themis Law Firm at the near end of her law school career that it really felt like fate was finally setting her onto her proper course.

And on her first day, when she was sent to deliver some records at the police station to be signed by a newly promoted police captain named Darius Morgan, she wondered, as she gaped at the similarly bewildered look of his golden eyes, whether fate had a sense of humor.

If it did, she wasn’t sure if it was laughing at or with her this entire time.

#tesrs of themis #darius morgan x rosa #darius morgan x reader #. #fic. #nribh. #(it's not in second pov tho sorry) #this is like the smuttiest thing i've ever written and apparently i cannot shut up about it bc this is literally 10k of filth #w a bit of character development but still

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Pressure

Finale to Push and Pull

Warnings: noncon sex, oral, violence, abuse, and death.

This is Lee Bodecker (who is already dark!af) and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Life changes and you’re swept up in the tide.

Note: Alright, here’s out final part! Lee is such a bastard man.

Hope you enjoy it. Thank you. Love you guys!

Please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

“You left a stain On every one of my good days” 

-Disease, Matchbox Twenty

🚔

Arn had quickly taken up your father’s mantle as a moonshiner. When he got home, he went to the shed and tinkered with the sill. He met with the same men your father had and even began to act like him. Quiet, terse. He ordered you and your brothers around as he emulated the dead man.

Will had grown quiet. In those days he spent at home with you, you’d noticed how distant he seemed. He was the youngest, the sweetest. When your mother had passed, he had been the most distraught but he seemed numb to your father’s absence.

And Cal; Cal was just as oblivious as ever. You almost admired how he always went through life without heed for the past or future. He only seemed to live in his own little bubble as he floated along; untouched and unaffected by the taint of Knockemstiff.

And you, you were just an afterthought in the lives of the men around you. You cleaned after them, cooked for them, and saw that all was in order for them to exist. They didn’t give a second thought to their dirtied dishes or torn trousers. They just left them for you to tidy and mend.

And Bodecker. You hated just the thought of him. Hated the way your stomach churned as you recalled that mighty heat he’d stoked within you. The feeling you knew was so wrong. How could you feel that way when he was touching you? When you didn’t want him to touch you? You didn’t want it, right?

Your nightmares were stained in your father’s blood. You woke with a start at the gunshot as it echoed inside your head. Every morning without fail. Visions lingered as you dressed; the gun, Lee’s voice, the blood seeping into the dirt. You shuddered and pressed your hands to your face. 

Had it really been so long? A month already.

You descended the stairs and yawned into your sleeve as you hugged yourself in the early morning chill. It was early, the men would not rise for another hour or so.

Maybe not. You heard the crackle of a log and the whisper of a page being turned. You stood in the doorway of the living room. Will sat on the rug before the fire, bent over a book as the flames licked behind the grate.

“I couldn’t sleep,” he spoke before you could. “But I’m almost done my book.”

“That’s good,” you neared and lowered yourself beside him, “What are you reading anyway?”

“Lord of the Flies,” he marked his page, “I think… I think it’s about good and evil. If people are born one or the other, you know?”

“Oh?” You crossed your arms over your knees.

“Yeah, I mean, if we were allowed to make our own rules, would we make them for us or the for the good of everyone?” He wondered, “Because even with the rules, we do the worst, don’t we?”

“I suppose but… the rules don’t really make much difference around here.” You snorted. “Not in this town.”

“You think it’s different somewhere else? In the city? Maybe in another country?” He chewed his thumbnail.

“I like to hope so, not that I’ll ever know,” you said, “Is this about daddy?”

He shrugged. He dropped his hand and stretched his long legs before him. “All the good went with mama.”

“Don’t say that,” you admonished.

“It’s true. How many times did he take the belt to you? And why? Because you made him think of her.”

“You really think that?”

“He was nasty to all of us,” he sighed, “But nastier to you. And I can’t even be sad that he’s gone.”

“Death is hard, Will,” you touched his shoulder, “It’s hard to know what you’re feeling about it. Sad ain’t so clear as it should be. It could be staring at the wall or tossing and turning in your bed or sitting up in the early hours and readin’ some book by yourself. It’s not always a feelin’, sometimes it’s in the things we do.”

“It’s just a book,” he muttered.

“But you lookin’ for daddy in it, ain’t ya? Askin’ if he was good or bad.”

“I know he was bad,” Will said, “It’s why I don’t feel bad for him. Probably ran his mouth at whoever it was who gave him what he got.”

“Don’t talk like that,” you took his hand and squeezed, “Please. For me.”

He looked at you. The light of the fire flickered in shadows across his face. “You know, you never had to take care of him. Or us. You should got out and married.”

“Maybe I didn’t have to,” you sidled close to him, “But how could I leave my little brother, hmm?”

“I’m a man now. Almost.” He said. “Arn won’t let you stay. I know it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Him and Rose from the diner. He’s gonna marry her. Won’t be no place for you here. Or Cal. Or me.” Will said. “And I’m gonna go work down at the yard. Or maybe the factory.”

“You should finish school.”

“For what?”

“You’re the only smart one. You could find your way. Get a degree.” You urged. “You should do all of that. You shouldn’t stay here.”

“And leave you behind?”

You sniffed and hung your head. “No, I’m grown. I’ll find my way and I won’t get in yours. You got half a year left. You’re too close to quit.”

“I don’t know…”

“Mama always wanted you to do something big. She always said you were special.” You said. “A lawyer? Maybe even a doctor. Imagine that.”

He was quiet. He squeezed your hand and wobbled his foot as he thought. “You should leave too. Leave this town. We could both go once I’m done school.”

“No, no, you can’t be takin’ care of me.” You argued.

“Why not? You’ve taken care of me.”

“Because that’s what women do. I promised mama I would.” You liked the idea of leaving but it was terrifying. Even if you did have that courage, you knew you wouldn’t be gone for long. And if fate didn’t bring you back, you expected something, or someone else, would. “If Arn decides to toss us to the curb, I’ll see you through the rest of the year and then you’re gonna go out and make mama proud.”

He nodded and leaned back on his hands. “I know no one else ever gave you a chance but you should start givin' yourself one. You’re too good for us. Too good for everyone in this damn town.”

🚔

When the Sheriff showed up next, you were alone. He walked into the house without knocking, as had become his habit, and sat at the table as you prepared a roast for dinner. He watched you silently and you tried to ignore him. You were waiting for his command. 

How did he want you? What vile things would he do to you that day?

“When’s the boys gettin’ home?” He asked.

“Soon,” you answered as you turned on the oven. 

“You got something sweet,” he reached in his pocket and pulled out an empty wrapped.

You slid the cookie jar towards you and plopped it before him on the table. “Made ‘em last night. Chocolate chip.”

“You’re always so good to me,” he smiled and you choked down your revulsion. “Too bad it took me so damn long to get here. I really wanted to have some fun.”

You turned back and opened the stove. You slid the roasting pan inside and snapped it shut.

“Them dresses you got, they really do nothin’ for ya,” he said through a mouthful of cookie, “‘cept when you’re bending over.”

“Why are you here then?” You crossed your arms as you turned back to him.

“I gotta talk to your brothers,” he said, “But let’s be clear on something, girl. You don’t ask me my business unless it’s to do with you.”

“I know about you,” you sneered, “Everyone does. Why don’t you get one of your whores and leave me alone?”

The chair nearly toppled as he stood and tossed down the cookie. He rounded the table and stomped over to you, cornering you against the counter.

“You’re my whore,” he snarled, “You got that?” He pinched your tit roughly. “Now, if I wanna, I can bend you over right now and let your brothers see what a whore you are.” He grabbed your chin and pushed his body against yours. “You should be flattered, you know? I ain’t touched another bitch since I been in you.”

You bit down and glared at him. Your lip curled but you said nothing.

“I ain’t gonna leave you alone,” he rocked his body against yours and exhaled. “What do ya think is gonna happen if I do? If I toss you out like the used bag you are? You got me or you got nothing. No man’s gonna marry a flower without her petals.”

He pushed harder against you until you could feel his bulge through his pants. His stomach crushed you against the counter. He leaned in and kissed you. You were shocked by the gesture, disgusted at how you could taste the chocolate on him.

“I really need to fuck you,” he growled as he drew away, “Fuckin’ hurts so bad.” He pushed himself from you and turned as he cleared his throat. The loud rumble of the Ford truck called from just outside as it pulled in. “Guess that means I’ll have to pay you back in kind.” 

You narrowed your eyes and went to the fridge. You poured him a glass and slammed it down as the front door opened and the boys’ voices mingled in the hallway. Bodecker drank deeply and cleared his throat as he watched you retreat.

Arn entered first, followed by the other two as they chattered noisily. “...in the shed, we-- Sheriff Bodecker,” Arn shook the sheriff’s hand as he stood. “Figured you were waitin’ for us. You know, we got everything sorted with the shine.”

“That’s good to hear but sadly I’m not here about that,” Bodecker said, “Other business. ‘Bout your daddy.”

“Ah, okay,” Arn glanced over at Cal as Will took a seat at the table and grabbed a cookie from the jar. Your youngest brother looked at you as he took a bite. “What’s, uh, what’s goin’ on?”

“Well, we think we got the prick who did it,” Bodecker began and you stiffened, “Found your daddy’s belt buckle and same caliber gun. Some rat down by the tracks. Been arrested before for robbin’.”

“You found him?” Cal asked, “Well, suppose that’s good.”

“We will be chargin' him to the full extent of the law. Shouldn’t see a free day ever again.” Bodecker said. “Out of courtesy, I figured I’d tell ya before the papers ran the story.”

“Thank you, Sheriff,” Arn said. “You know it’s been tough tryna get everything together since he been gone but… this’ll be good for all of us. Now that we have some peace about it.”

“Oh, you got big plans?” Bodecker asked.

“House is mine now. Figure I need a wife. And the boys… well, they gotta go find a place of their own, ain’t they?”

“Mmm,” Bodecker hummed, “And your sister, too.”

“We have an aunt. I’m sure she could use the company.” Arn said.

“What?” You sputtered, “You just gonna send me away to live with Darlene?”

“What else am I gonna do with ya?” Arn barked. “If I got Rose here to do my cookin’ and cleanin’, I don’t see the use in keepin’ you around. Don’t know why daddy didn’t find someone to take ya before.”

“I ain’t askin’ you to do nothin’ with me,” you huffed, “But I ain’t goin’ to Darlene’s. I’ll go out on my own. I’ll clean someone else’s floor and get paid for it in more than spit and stupid.”

Arn snarled and Will stood slowly from the table. Cal squinted as if lost.

“Now, now,” Bodecker clapped Arn’s shoulder, “Lots to be done, lots to be done. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. This is a lot. Big news. I say, take some time, have some of that shine your daddy left you, and calm down, huh?”

Arn looked at the sheriff and shook his head. “Yeah, yeah, you’re right, I s’pose.”

Will lingered by the table, his eyes never left his older brother as his hands balled into fists. You neared him and touched his arm softly. He glanced over at you, his face tensed with anger.

“I won’t let him do it,” he whispered. “I told you, we can get out together.”

“So let’s give it a day,” Bodecker boomed, “I’ll be back tomorrow. We’ll talk business and… well, I think you’ll be happier after we have all that figured out.”

Arn nodded and shifted his weight.

“You got big shoes to fill,” Bodecker said, “Gotta make sure you get ‘em laced on right.”

🚔

As promised, Bodecker returned the next day, this time after your brothers. He joined them in the shed, a relief as you worked at stitching one of Will’s shirts. Cal appeared as you held up the shirt and eyed your work. You sensed his shadow and dropped the fabric to your lap.

“Dinner’s almost ready,” you assured him.

“You need to come out to the shed,” he ignored your promise of a hot meal and you frowned. 

You stood and slung the shirt over the chair. You grabbed your jacket and boots and followed him out the door. You hadn’t been to the shed since before your daddy died. Your teeth chattered as you slipped through the door and Cal slid it closed behind you. Arn sat in your pa’s old armchair, Lee on a stool, and Will on the crooked bench with a space free for his other brother.

“I don’t know why she needs to be here,” Arn said, “But she is, so let’s get on.”

“Well, the only way you’re gonna expand across the county is through me, Arn,” Bodecker talked as if he were addressing a child. “And I’m up for re-election. That means we need each other. Means we need to set this little partnership we have down in stone.”

“How’s it that you need us, sheriff?” Cal asked as you swayed by the door.

“Well, my reputation ain’t exactly pristine. I need to tidy up the edges,” Bodecker leaned forward and twined his fingers together. “I’ll see that you get your shine from one end of the county to the other and I’ll also take a little weight off your shoulders. I need a wife and your sister needs a new home.”

Your mouth fell open and even Arn seemed surprised by the proposal.

“No,” Will said, “You can’t… you can’t marry her.”

“I don’t see why not. She’s gettin’ up there in years, I don’t see anyone else lining up.” Bodecker chortled.

“Because she--” Will looked at you helplessly. “She deserves to be happy.”

“I don’t think any woman be unhappy being the sheriff’s wife,” Bodecker hissed, “Won’t be no different than her cleaning up after y’all. If anything, it’ll be easier.”

“Take her,” Arn said, “Two birds, one stone.”

“And Cal, I’ll get him on the force by the end of the year. Always good to have another set of hands.” Bodecker continued. “He’ll make good enough money to get outta your hair.”

“And Will?” You said. All the men turned to look at you. “He’s gotta stay in school.”

“School ain’t shit,” Arn scowled.

“I don’t see why he can’t finish,” Bodecker said. 

“I ain’t takin’ care of him,” Arn said. “He either gonna work for his lot or he can live outside.”

“Say what you want about daddy, but at least he had the decency to see to us,” you said. “You think you’re the big man now he’s gone.”

“You better shut your fuckin’ mouth if you know what’s good for you,” Arn stood and the sheriff did too. He stepped in front of the younger man.

“She’s grievin’. You know the ladies don’t handle all this so well,” Bodecker said, “I’ll see after the kid. I was gonna up my take to twenty percent but I’ll settle for fifteen if you keep him on.”

“Up your take?” Arn scoffed.

“We’re gonna be family and I’m gonna make sure none of my officers get in your way. Boy, that’s gonna mess with numbers, you get me? You can’t get without givin’.” 

Arn lowered his chin and looked between you and Will. He blinked slowly.

“He got a roof till he’s done school. No longer than that.” Arn sat back down heavily, “And you be best to get a leash on my sister and quick. The sooner she’s out of my house, the better. Rose is getting awfully antsy.”

“Y’all got a date yet?” Bodecker said.

“Wait? Just like that? You’re gonna marry me off--”

“Fuck’s sake. You ain’t never know when to shut up!” Arn hollered as he reached for a jar of shine.

“And you’re gonna drink away your years just like daddy,” you snapped.

“Hmm, maybe, but you’re gonna do what I tell you and get on your back for our sheriff.” He spat, “Or I’m gonna dump you on the corner and you can see who else will have you.”

“Arn, you can’t--” Will began.

“You two can go off and see how far you make it,” Arn bit back, “I’m done arguin’. The next person pipes up, I’m gonna tar ya.”

You looked at Will and shook your head. You knew what wasn’t being said. If you didn’t do what you were told, it wasn’t that you’d be out of your home. You wouldn’t have anything. The sheriff had a stranglehold on every citizen in the county. He’d make sure you were helpless until you were forced to grab his outreached hand. You’d take what he gave you, as you had to that point.

“Fine…” You uttered, “You know what mama would think, Arn. As much as you think daddy’d be proud, you know she wouldn’t.”

“Go back to your kitchen,” Arn took a gulp of moonshine, “You got a month, Sheriff. You get her out and you got your fifteen.”

🚔

You didn’t expect your wedding day to be so gloomy. A winter ceremony in the town church with a man you didn’t and couldn’t love. You’d always thought you would wear your mother’s old gown but he wasn’t worthy of that. So you wore the plan dress from the local shop with a short veil and a pair of white flats.

The sheriff had done his best to clean up for the ceremony. Freshly shaved, hair combed neatly, his stomach barely continued above his cumberbund. This man, your husband, your jailer. 

Your brothers sat in the first row as you listened to the priest. Your vows were nothing special, the same template handed out by the church. To love and obey. Only one of those would be true. You stared at the loose stitches of the veil, your surroundings blurred beyond the white lace.

You hated Arn for trading you away like livestock but you knew deep down your father would’ve done the same. He would’ve done worse. You recalled his last words; he would’ve had you on the street. Maybe this was the best you could hope for.

The room came back into focus as your veil was lifted. Your husband kissed you. He still sent a shiver up your spine every time he touched you. You turned back to the audience, his hand around yours as he led you between the rows of strangers. Your brothers were the only familiar faces though they were hardly welcome. 

Arn had quickly taken up your father’s part in mistreating you, Cal was his mindless followers, and Will, you only saw pity in his eyes. Bodecker guided you between the pews and the doors open to the frigid winter afternoon. He ushered you to the waiting car and was quick to climb in behind you. There would be a dinner awaiting you at town hall; a whole room rented out for the occasion.

“So,” Bodecker’s hand settled on your thigh, “Are you wearing it?”

You nodded. He had brought you the lurid attire only nights before. A lacy brassiere and satin panties, stocks and frilly garners; all in as if you were still a virgin. He stretched his arm over your shoulders and pulled you close.

“It’s gonna just be you and me, honey,” he purred, “No more hiding.”

“Yes, Sheriff,” you spoke into your lap.

“Lee, or sir. No need to act strange anymore,” he dragged his nose up your cheek and his hot breath choked you. “I can’t wait until tonight. I’ve been holdin’ it in so long, god, I could blow now.”

“You know I hate you, don’t you?” You looked at him dead in the face.

A smile slowly spread across his face as he played with the hem of your veil. “Well, don’t really matter now, does it?”

🚔

Bodecker, Lee, your personal tormenter; whoever he was, ate as you avoided the same. You felt too sick to do anything but wait out the night. You accepted the congratulations of family and friends that weren’t yours and bided your time as he did all the talking. You expected your new life would be filled with these people eating out of the hand of their sheriff in hope that he didn’t swat their heads.

He drove you home in his cruiser. A strange end to a strange state of affairs. His house was large and closer to town. It was more modern than your father’s old farmhouse but not so tidy. A man living on his own didn’t have time to do his dishes before his wedding or put his used socks in the hamper

He closed the door behind you as you looked around. Cleaning was never a pleasure for you, an obligation, a ritual which kept you from dwelling on the bad. At that moment, you wanted to clean up the mess of this man’s life to keep from dealing with your own.

You jumped as he slapped your ass hard enough to make you stumble. You rubbed the stinging flesh beneath your dress and drew away from him. He caught your arm before you could go far.

“The bedroom’s through there,” he nodded to the doorway on the other side of the room, “A lot better than the car… and the coffee cups… hmmm?”

“It’s all the same,” you muttered.

“It gets better each time,” he pulled you against him and groaned. “You’ll see it soon. You’ll feel it.” He leaned in and his hot breath tickled your lips. “Go to the bedroom, get that dress off and wait for me.”

He tapped your ass and let you go as he turned away. He removed his jacket and hung it as you watched his back. You looked at the door. Where would you even go? Your mama once told you marriage wasn’t for love, it was practical. A roof over your head. What more could you ask for?

You walked down the hallway and stopped to look at the picture. The fresh-faced corporal didn’t look like the ruddy cheeked man with the wrinkle above his brow. Even in black and white, his eyes seemed brighter then. You tore yourself away and found the bedroom at the end.

You supposed you were different too. Different from yesterday, different from a month ago, a year ago, ten years ago. So much could change in so little time. 

You reached back and unhooked the top of your dress. You struggled to undo each button along your spine as the fabric drew taut across your stomach. A week ago, the dress had seemed looser, same with much of your wardrobe. 

You shimmied out of the dress and folded it over the walnut dresser. You looked down at yourself and the underwear better fit to the racy scenes in the theatre. You didn’t dress like this. You weren’t Marilyn or Elizabeth. You were just you and you were entirely out of place. 

You slipped out of your shoes and unpinned your veil. The ring on your finger chafed your skin. You sighed and turned to sit on the bed. It bounced beneath you as you toyed with the diamond. Say what you would of the man, it had all been adequate. More than.

“You look good,” Bodecker said and you raised your head as he entered. He began to undress as he strutted across the room. “Wife.”

He unbuttoned his shirt as he neared the bed. He looked down at you with a smirk as his bowtie hung loose from his neck.

“You know what would happen if I didn’t marry you?” He pulled his tails loose and wiggled out of the shirt. He tossed it away with his tie, his stomach poking out slightly from his undershirt. “I mean, you could have my bastard inside you right now. You think anyone else wants it?”

Your eyes widened and your lashes fluttered. You bunched up the blankets in your hand as you teetered on the edge of the bed. You shook your head.

“You see, unlike all those whores, you got more than what’s between your legs,” he unbuckled his belt and undid his fly. “You work, real hard. And despite yourself, you’ll always need someone to take care of.”

He reached into his underwear and rubbed himself before pulling out his cock. You closed your eyes as he groaned and reached out to caress your cheek.

“Open your mouth, honey,” he purred. “Let me show how a wife serves her husband.”

You hesitated and he gripped your chin. He squeezed, a warning, and you opened up. He pressed his tip against your lips and pushed so that you let him in. His skin was salty and warm as it slid over your tongue. He hit the back of your throat and your eyes welled.

“Mmm mm mm,” he hummed, “That is good. Come on… just a little--”

He grunted as he forced himself down your throat. You choked and he shuddered as his hands held your head firmly. He moved his hips carefully. He slid back and slammed back in. Your eyes rolled back and you tried not to gag as he repeated the motion, each thrust harder than the last.

“Fuck, girl, I love that mouth,” he cooed, “Now it’s all mine.”

He pulled you forward as he pushed himself as deep as he could. He jerked into you even harsher than before and you grabbed the top of his pants. He dragged you off the bed and you fell to your knees. He fucked your face and shoved your head back against the mattress. He planted a hand on the bed and hammered into you over and over. Slobber spilled down your chin and you slapped helplessly against his thigh.

“Fucking take it,” he growled.

Your vision began to spot as you went limp and he stopped suddenly, halfway down your throat. He snarled and slipped out of your mouth and let you drop to the floor. You leaned forward as you coughed and his belt jingled as he stripped off his pants.

He stepped past you and climbed onto the bed. He fell heavily on his back as you looked up and bent his hands behind his head. His cock stood, glistening, and he grinned.

“Better climb on, girl,” he said, “We ain’t done yet.”

You grabbed the edge of the bed and pulled yourself up. One knee, then the other, you crawled over to him. It was the first time you’d seen him entirely naked. You stood shakily and reached to the top of the satin panties.

“Ah,” he tutted, “Just pull ‘em to the side.”

Your brows drew together but you didn’t argue. Your only hope was to bide him until you were on your own. Make yourself numb to his company and you could reward yourself in your solace.

You got down on your knees and reached between your legs. You took him in one hand and pushed your panties aside with other. You paused as his tip prodded at your entrance then lowered yourself onto him. You withdrew your hands and the satin was taut around the side of his shaft. You stilled and tried to adjust to the fullness.

“Well, come on,” he grabbed your hips and tilted them, “Move.”

You carried the rhythm and rocked atop of him. Your crumpled panties rubbed against your clit and added to the storm brewing in your core. His hands swept up your sides and he cupped your tits through the lace bra. His thumbs rubbed your barely concealed nipples and he groaned.

“Shit, it’s so good, honey. So good.” He moved his hips beneath you, “Faster.”

You obeyed and he tugged down the cups the brassiere. He pushed his head into the pillow and gritted his teeth. He grabbed your sides and pulled you to bend over him. He nuzzled your titts and nipped at the tender flesh. He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked as you kept your hips moving.

His hands skimmed over your curves and he gripped your hips. He pulled your ass down harder and you flesh clapped against his loudly. He turned his head away as your breast hung over him and you sped up. You were close. So close.

“I’m gonna cum,” he rasped, “I’m gonna--”

You threw back your head and cried out as you orgasmed first. You dug your nails into his arm as you fucked him through your climax and felt him burst inside of you. That joy, that second of joy, was enough to forget, a spark of happiness before it all came back.

You slowed and stilled atop him, out of breath. You sat up, the straps of your bra sagging down your shoulders as he tickled your thighs.

“You know,” he poked his finger between your legs and flicked your overwrought clit. You twitched and he chuckled. “I can’t wait til you got my child inside of you. Seein’ you all big. I’m still gonna fuck you.” His other hand rubbed your stomach, “If you’re anything like your mama, we’ll have a whole herd of our own.” He licked his lips as he took your hands and placed them on his chest. “But you remember, your husband always comes first.”

#lee bodecker #lee bodecker x reader #dark!lee bodecker #dark lee bodecker #the devil all the time #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #short series #series #push #pull

[ohheyitsokay]

Hello!!! I have come with a soulmate au request: could you write one with Benny Miller, where the voice inside your head is yoursoulmates voice. And he's just like "omg! You're the one with the beautiful voice!"

Everyone, say thank you to @fangirl-316 for being the very first person on my taglist, and thus one of the main reasons I'm still writing.

My dear, please consider this fic a very small portion of my thank you, for how far that encouragement went.

warnings: so much fluff it's not even funny

>>

soulmate requests

<<

You and your soulmate lead quite different lives - you only heard his voice saying your thoughts every couple of days at first. It was supposed to happen when you had a thought that could've been one of theirs, normally something simple about needing to get groceries or hoping for rain.

But, the majority of thoughts the two of you shared were "Ouch." A deep, warm voice would boom through your mind, filling it like broth in a bowl on a cold day - comforting, but confusing. It made you wonder if your soulmate was clumsy, like you, or if he got himself into trouble.

He didn't share your complaints, though, and that simple realization bloomed into a full, indulgent daydream. If he got hurt, but didn't complain... maybe you're soulmate was strong, in all the good, selfless ways that heroes were. The daydream fit, and stuck, and it became your mission mission learn more about him whenever you could

It didn't take you long to learn how kind he was, after all. "No worries," he'd say, and you could almost hear his smile, or "I've got you."

And when you were being your most kind, your most thoughtful, you heard him more than ever. It was sweet, inspiring, his unintentional little encouragement to help your neighbors or lighten the mood.

So one day, deep in your longing to meet the one who's voice was rich as a hot meal from a diner, you took a risk.

He made you feel adventurous, grand, his voice in your mind, as he encouraged the world to do it's worst. The ferocity in which his tone reinforced your moments of confidance were like shots of caffeine in your bloodstream. You were certain he was a protector, a - a fighter.

For him.

Your cousin had become interested in a professional fighting ring by a girl at her gym, and had been begging you to come with. So you took the risk, and allowed yourself to be dragged into a chaotic room full of sweaty boddies and goading cheers.

People were yelling to talk to each other, a triumphant man was soaking in adoration, and your feet stuck to the floor.

The next fight had already started, and as you squeezed into a place you could see, your heart stopped. Above you, solid legs, a bare chest heaving with deep breaths, broad shoulders. From your angle, you could see half a grin, and one of the most beautiful blue eyes you'd ever seen.

Benjamin - Benny - Miller, someone said.

Then he was moving, fuid and fast, like he was animated, and you watched, enraptured. You barely processed his opponent, just a man in contrasting colors, as you stared. The noise became an afterthought, and the back of your mind registered your cousin moving away to search for her friend.

Still you couldn't move, you were planted, still as a statue as your heart began to beat again, pouting unevenly as you watched.

Was it normal? To be filled with liquid fire and to hope desperately for a fighter's safety and triumph at the same time?

It was just.... adrenaline. It was because you were new to this. Everyone around you probably felt as intensely as you did about every thud of gloves against skin, at one point in their lives, anyway.

The noise came back in full, as you were reminded how out of place you were.

"You want anything, honey?" The waitress had pity in her eyes.

A gloved fist came in contact with a perfect jaw.

Ouch.

His voice, as always.

"No, thank you." You didn't even look at her, wondering and watching as your injured hero smiled to himself a little bit.

-

"I don't believe you," you stared suspiciously.

"No, she's telling the truth." Looking between your cousin and her friend, you felt your fight or flight response kick in.

"I just feel silly." Involuntarily, you backed away. They were insisting you push through the sweaty crowd, accross the sticky floor, to talk to him. They promised it was normal. "I wouldn't wouldn't know what to say."

They both looked at each other, and your cousin shrugged. It was true - as desperately as you wanted to encourage him, you'd barely made a peep during the fight. Instead you stared, almost forgetting to breathe, and eyes almost drying out as you ignored the insitict to blink, least you miss a single second. Even after your embarrassment reared it's head, you'd felt strange - both invisible and like you were alone in the crowd, your willpower alone his encouragement. Cheering felt impossible, your tongue was dry in your mouth as you thought wishes into the universe. Prayers, for him or to him, you weren't quite sure.

Relenting, your cousin gave you a more gentle look, before saying changing the topic. It emboldened you, her kindness, as your soulmate said, "Thank you," to her for you, and you slipped away. The fighter deserved a lite of your praise, after all. Looking in the blue of his eyes seemed impossible, but you found the waitress from before.

So what could you say, now that he was surrounded by friends and fans, clapping the smooth of his shoulder and ruffling his seemingly silken hair?

Meekly you shook your head, trying not to look at him from across the room.

"Hey, hun, how can I help you?" She paused, curious and fair, a testament to the establishment.

"Would you..." you fidgeted. The request felt silly, like kids in a school yard, whispering telephone crushes.

"Just do it, talk to her."

"I just wanted to ask if - "

"Oh my God," a deep voice, from directly behind you. It cut through the chatter and shouts of the crowd, surprised and insistent. The waitress cocked an eyebrow and you turned, following her gaze.

"You're the one with the beautiful voice!"

Benjamin Miller was standing, close, the crowd behind him still marked from his rapid path to you. His eyes were wide, staring into yours like he wasn't sure if you were real.

Staring back, you panicked, wondering when he had even heard you before you registered.

His voice -

He was hugging you. Muscles and fat squishing alike, bones near creaking, you never wanted him to let go. He had changed, wearing soft clothes that smelled like sunshine, and his hands were pressing you against his bruises and God, you didn't want him to let go.

It could've been four seconds, it could've been four thousand before your feet felt like they were on solid ground.

"I knew when I saw you," his voice was loud, excited, before he seemed to realize he was still close, gripping you tightly. Jumping back, his hands ran over his face, and through his hair.

"Sorry I just -" suddenly, he looked almost shy, doubt flooding his eyes, the fear that he wasn't yours at the forefront of his mind.

"Hi," you said, grabbing one of his hands before it could stray out of reach. The nervousness from before seemed offensive, suddenly, because you knew him. This was the man who lived and breathed and thought encouragement and honesty and laughter.

You said your name, and when you half-laughed, giddy with bravery, he couldn't help but relax. "You're my soulmate," you said, more certain than you had ever been.

His own doubts abandoned, a warm hand wrapped around your neck, tiliting your face closer to his.

It was perfect, how he was laughing now, too, just as earnest and brave as you always knew he would be.

"Nice to meet you."

<<

@fangirl-316 @scribbledghost @writeforfandoms @beautyagegoodnesssize @princess76179 @mrsbentallmadge @horton-hears-a-honk

#benny miller x reader #benny miller #triple frontier #soulmate requests #maybe i dont know people #elle only posts soulmate rqs at weird hours thats the rule

[live-the-fangirl-life]

Not a prompt exactly, but Fenrys filming drunk Lorcan being soft and silly with Elide and then showing him the next day

What Happens in Vegas... Part 2

Elide Lochan x Lorcan Salvaterre - Answered Prompt

Elide and Lorcan wake up to find a video Fenrys took of their wedding ceremony.

Part 1 | Masterlist | Read on Ao3

Warnings: Language

1658 words

*******

The first thing Elide noticed when she woke up was that her head felt like it was being crushed by a cement truck that was playing dubstep.

She groaned and then winced at the noise before turning to bury her face into the solid chest of the man lying next to her.

Lorcan wasn't any better. He felt like his head was going to explode if he moved too fast. But when he felt Elide press closer to him, he instinctively wrapped an arm around her, wincing, too, as the movement sent a wave of nausea through him. He used what little coherency he had to keep the stomach-churning feeling at bay.

They both slept restlessly for another hour before managing the harrowing act of sitting up. Well, Elide sat up. Lorcan tried to lift himself and deemed it too much work, so he threw his head back down into Elide’s lap, groaning as the movement made his head spin. She could hear a distant buzz that sounded like a phone notification.

Propped against the headboard, Elide took a steadying breath and slowly started to feel like herself again. She let one hand rest on Lorcan’s head while she ran her fingers through his hair and had the fleeting question of why she was wearing one of his earrings on her finger.

The buzzing kept coming and she saw her phone on the nightstand light up as message after message came in.

Wanting nothing more than a large cup of coffee, Elide grabbed her phone to see why she was being bombarded with messages. If the sound from across the room was any indication, Lorcan’s phone was also receiving dozens of texts. It made her pause a moment to wonder what the hell happened the night before.

The moment Elide opened the group chat, memories of the previous night flashed in her mind.

The casino. Drinking. Lorcan. A chapel. Elvis.

Oh gods. Elide looked down at the hand still in Lorcan’s hair and stared at the ring on her finger. Her pinky, not her ring finger, because it only fit on her pinky; she cringed as she remembered how Lorcan had removed his earring as an impromptu engagement ring.

Engagement ring.

Holy Hellas. Holy fucking Hellas. Engagement ring. Wedding. She and Lorcan had gotten married. In Vegas. By a fucking Elvis Impersonator.

She couldn’t stop the hysterical laugh that escaped her. This wasn’t a situation she ever thought she’d be in. She kept laughing even as Lorcan twisted his head and looked at her in bewilderment while groaning at the loud volume of it. She couldn’t help it.

Her laughter soon died as she realized she wasn’t freaking out. It was insane and impulsive and totally not like her to do that, yes—but it wasn’t bad. She wasn’t upset. When she thought about being married to Lorcan...her heart felt happy.

She smiled down at his face which had turned to press into her stomach as he wrapped an arm around her so he could use her to block out the light. The situation was unconventional, but so were they. And it made for one hell of a story

Elide went back to scrolling on her phone and tried to find the start of the messages from last night.

The first few were with Fenrys. It seemed she or Lorcan had called him to be the witness for their ceremony—why him and not someone else, she didn't know—and he responded immediately telling them not to say ‘I do’ before he could be there to record it.

And then he sent a video.

Elide shook Lorcan’s shoulder and waited until he grumbled something incoherent and turned his face towards her phone before pushing play.

The video was shaky but it clearly showed Elide and Lorcan standing in a chapel next to a man wearing an Elvis costume. Elide had Lorcan’s earring on his finger and Lorcan...Lorcan was wearing a veil pulled back over his hair. All the while Fenrys flipped the camera back and forth to show the couple and then his own excited face.

Lorcan’s arms tightened around Elide as he watched the video. He blinked once and sat up, rubbing a hand down his face, before looking pointedly down at her finger that still held his earring. When his eyes met hers again, they were worried. As if he was unsure what her reaction to all this would be.

“Did we…” He asked, brows furrowed,

“Yeah,” she nodded, glancing down at he finger again “we did.”

“We got married.”

“Uh-huh.”

“In Vegas, drunk off our asses, by Elvis?”

“Yup,” Elide answered with a ‘pop’ and finally let the grin that’d been aching to show itself, spread across her face.

Lorcan searched her face for any panic, but finding none, offered a small smile in return before resting his chin on her shoulder and gesturing for her to play the video.

“Do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife?” Elvis said, monotonously.

The Lorcan in the video nodded vigorously and replied “Yes, Mr. Elvis, sir. I want to make this woman my wife. Elide, El, ‘Lide, you are the coolest, most badass lady I know. Way better than Gala-what’s-her-face and more beautiful than...than..”

“Fenrys?” Drunk Elide suggested, giggling as Fenrys protested and shook the camera.

“Yes,” Drunk Lorcan agreed, “you are so much more beautiful than Fenrys.”

And then Drunk Lorcan lifted his hand and booped Drunk Elide on the nose, sending her into another fit of giggles.

Sober Elide was trying her absolute hardest not to laugh at the recording because Sober Lorcan looked like he was going to throttle Fenrys for getting evidence of this on video.

“And do you take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” Elvis droned on.

Drunk Elide swayed as she laughed and then abruptly got herself back together before nodding. “I do. I do. Yeah, I take him to be Mr. Lochan. Mr. Lorcan Lochan,” Drunk Elide and Drunk Lorcan laughed while Sober Lorcan glowered and Fenrys hollered a cheer from behind the camera.

Drunk Elide kept talking. “Lorcan, I loooooove you,” she slurred the words, “I love that you’re a big ol’ grump to everyone but me, cause I’m adorable as fuck. And how when you hug me I feel like I’m wrapped up in the best blanket. And I really love your dic—”

Sober Elide snorted and Fenrys almost dropped the camera from laughing, effectively cutting off the rest of Drunk Elide’s vows.

“By the power vested in me, by Hunka Hunka Burning Love, I now pronounce you husband and wife, you may—”

Drunk Elide and Drunk Lorcan ignored the rest of what Elvis was saying, by pulling each other into a frenzied kiss. She had one leg hitched around his hips with his hands gripping her ass as her’s clawed at his back.

The camera suddenly flipped around to show Fenrys’ grinning face as he wiggled his eyebrows. “There you have it, folks. Mr. and Mrs. Lochan.” He grinned at something behind the screen, most likely Drunk Elide and Drunk Lorcan trying to stumble out of the chapel.

“Hey, man!” the sound of Drunk Lorcan’s voice echoed throughout the video as Fenrys narrated about him talking to a stranger passing by. “Have you met my wife?”

A moment passed and they could no longer hear Drunk Lorcan or Drunk Elide, but Fenrys kept grinning maniacally into the camera as he said “ Aelin, Rowan, you might have to give up the newlywed suite tonight!”

Then the video cut off.

Elide was quietly laughing as Lorcan groaned into her shoulder. He grumbled, “I am going to kill Fenrys. He sent that to everyone didn’t he?” And almost as an afterthought, he asked through clenched teeth, “Was I wearing a fucking veil?”

Elide couldn’t hold it in any longer and hunched over in a fit of laughter. “Lorcan, you make such a pretty bride.”

He growled and nipped at her shoulder. “Not funny.”

“Extremely funny.” She corrected and pulled the group chat back up. Sure enough, it was filled with responses.

“Rowan says 'Congrats, I hope you both have massive hangovers.'” She snorted at his next text, “'Aelin is pissed you ran off and got married without inviting her.'”

“Why did we invite Fenrys and not anyone else?” Elide asked.

“No fucking clue.”

She rolled her eyes before going back to the texts. “Aelin then writes 'I am so PISSED at you, Lochan, for not inviting me to your wedding! How can there be a ridiculous, Vegas wedding without ME involved....but congrats, I guess. I expect all the details once you and hubby sober up.'” Elide laughed, making a mental note to call Aelin after she has some coffee. “Then she sent a winky face and a bunch of eggplant and donut emojis.”

Lorcan grunted in acknowledgment.

“Aedion sends a thumbs up, and Lysandra writes 'My favorite part—besides Lorcan in a wedding veil, which will forever bring me joy—was when Elide talked about Lorcan’s dick.' And then more eggplant emojis.”

“Why are these people your friends?” Lorcan asked as he sat up again.

She laughed and caught the smirk on his face, “Don’t even try with that, Lochan,” she winked, “they’re your friends too.”

He rolled his eyes and snorted. “No, I am not going by Lorcan Lochan, no way.”

Elide laughed and got out of bed, finally noticing the piece of paper that had fallen to the floor. She picked it up and turned back towards him grinning.

“Lorcan Lochan, it has a certain ring to it.”

Lorcan just rolled his eyes but gave a small, resigned smile to his wife.

Wife.

Lorcan let a broad grin emerge as he thought about the diamond he had stashed in his sock drawer at home and realized that he’d get to replace the earring on Elide’s finger very soon.

*****

Taglist:

@acourtofsnakes @allthebooksunderthemoon @astra-ad-mare @becarefuloflove @bisexual-genderfluid-loki @booklover41802 @charlizeed @cookiemonsterwholovesbooks @danibutterr @doubt-less @emily-gsh @enormousbooklover @foughtconquered @fromthelibraryofemilyj @hakunamatatazz @i-have-but-one-brain-cell @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato @jorjy-jo @lemonade-coolattas @mariamuses @mayhemories @midsizewitch @miserablesmusings @morganofthewildfire @nehemikkele @rowaelinismyotp @rowansfirebringer @sayosdreams @sheharahu @sleeping-and-books @stardelia @story-scribbler @superspiritfestival @surielandiareendgame @swankii-art-teacher @tomtenadia @westofmoon @whimsicallyreading @ladygabrielli1997 @moodymelanist @realbookloverproblems @gracie-rosee @julemmaes @yesdreamblog @the-regal-warrior @rowanaelinn @thestoriesyoutell @autumnbabylon

#elorcan #elide #lorcan #elorcan fluff #elorcan fic #elide lochan #lorcan salvaterre #elide and lorcan #lorcan and elide #elide x lorcan #lorcan x elide #throne of glass #tog #married in vegas #answered prompt

[lubdubsworld]

Change of heart (Chapter 7)

Chapter 1   Chapter 2    Chapter 3     Chapter 4     Chapter 5   Chapter 6

Summary : Times are changing. After years of being oppressed, werewolves are taking a stand against humans , demanding equal rights and fair treatment. Heading the movement is Kim Taehyung, the breathtaking heir to the Kim fortune and one of the few remaining Alpha werewolves in the country. His disdain for the human race is well known and well warranted. They killed his family after all….. He wants to change the world , to put humans in their place but when his five year old daughter takes a shine to their very human neighbor , maybe he has to start with a change of heart , first.

: Pairing : Taehyung x OC / Werewolf AU!!

Genre : Romance, Explicit Content.

Chapter 7

The incessant buzzing of his phone was what woke Taehyung up, his entire body aching something fierce. 

He groaned , spitting  what felt like damp hair out of his mouth, blinking against the shaft of sunlight pouring into the room through the slats of the large windows . His bedroom faced the river, and every morning the sun spilled right into his bed , lighting the room up . He loved waking up to warmth and sometimes it made up for the absence of a warm body next to him on the bed. 

But today, with her wrapped around him, he hated the intrusion....wanted nothing more than to burrow into the bed and stay there for the rest of the year. 

It took him a second to realize that Mirae was lying on top of him and he was still, technically inside her. He had been so completely gone the previous night that he could barely remember a thing. 

Other than the fact that he hadn’t had sex that good in his life. Ever. 

Cupping the back of her head gently and wrapping one arm around her waist, he carefully rolled over, laying her gently on the bed next to him. She whimpered when he slid out of her and he winced when a rush of fluids spilled out of her, drenching his thighs and the sheets. 

Bits of the night began to come back to him then. 

Vague memories of fucking her to within an inch of her life. 

Guilt began to coil around his insides as he pushed the hair of her face. She looked like she had been mauled by an animal. Hickeys bloomed all over her neck, her jaw and even on the fleshy curve of her cheeks. Her hair looked matted with sweat and damp and cum . He had a mental image of her then, weakly crawling away when he tried to push into her for the fifth time, and she had been too sore to take him , begging him to let her suck him off  instead  and he flinched when he remembered holding her down against the pillow and fucking her mouth.

He’d managed to keep his knot out of her mouth, but he’d also had a really fierce orgasm, and his release had pretty much ended up all over her. 

His phone was still ringing and he reached across the bed to grab it, answering the call before checking who it was.

“Taehyung...are you alright?” It’s Dr. Lee and Taehyung blinks, surprised.

“Oh..yes. Dr. Lee , is everything okay?”

“I was only calling to check up on you. My sister told me that you were taking Ms. Yoon home and it made me wonder. Are you alright?” 

“I’m fine, doc. In fact better than fine. My head is surprisingly clear. I was fully prepared for this thing to last like a week but I feel normal already.”

Dr. Lee laughed. 

“Perks of  biting your actual mate and not an impostor. How is she, by the way?”

Taehyung relaxed a bit, staring at the girl in his bed. He gently stroked the hair off her face, running the back of his fingers across the smooth skin of her cheeks. 

“She’s ... fine.” He said roughly, “ Or as fine as you’d expect her to be.” He added as an afterthought, remembering that she had tried to get up from the bed for a drink of water and her legs had given out almost at once.

“And the mating mark? Did you dress it up like I told you?”

“Yes... It wasn’t that deep but you should probably drop by tomorrow and take a look at it anyway. “ An incessant beeping told him he was getting another call and he quickly apologized and hung up on the doctor  taking the other call.

“Tae, the shipment isn’t here on time. We’ve been trying to find the CI who gave us the info and the fucker seems to have run aground. Either that or Yoon’s men got to him.... “ Seokjin’s voice trembled with frustration and anger.

“Oh...fuck hyung that’s bad. Okay, what does Namjoon think? “

“Namjoon says that we should go ahead with drilling that dude we caught during the raid last week, Jaehyun or whatever. He thinks he may have some clue because he was fucking one of the bigger suppliers’ daughter.” 

Taehyung groaned.

“What about the reports from the lab? Did they test positive for any other controlled substance? I know we’ve only focused on a couple of them ...I don’t want to be blindsided by anything. “

“That scientist dude is a pain in the ass, refuses to talk to anyone but you and definitely only in person. “ Seokjin scoffed.

“That’s fine.. I’ll be there in an hour. “ Taehyung said sharply.

Seokjin made a noise of disapproval.

“What? Namjoon told me you were with your mate.... You’re going to leave her?”

Taehyung rolled his eyes at that. 

“She’s not my actual mate hyung. As in... what we have isn’t like official or anything. She agreed to it because I asked her to help me out and she knows that this isn’t anything more than a business arrangement. I didn’t even want to do it but...sometimes you do things for the greater good....” 

He moved to get up out of the bed , levering himself up to stand. He felt better than he had in weeks, his body thrumming with vitality and his mind sharp and clear. 

“She’s human right? Is she actually okay?” 

Taehyung scoffed at the implication . 

“I’m not leaving her bleeding and unconscious, if that's’ what you’re wondering. I bought a bunch of pain stuff for her.... the kind humans use.” He felt that pang of disappointment again. 

She was incredible....beautiful and kind and full of heart, yeah but the fact that she was a human was ...... It was just cruel to her. 

. He had spouted some nonsense to her about wanting to do this everyday for the rest of their life but nothing could be farther from the truth than that.   The idea of having to handle his bedmate with kid gloves made him jittery and nervous. 

She was so fucking fragile and he had struggled so hard last night, holding back, over and over again and she had still come out of it completely wrecked.

If she were a wolf, she’d be perfectly fine by now. Healed and happy and probably even up for some morning sex.

And yes the last bit made him sound like a horny bastard but come on, he was a healthy young wolf and an Alpha at that and his libido had always been on the higher side.

He shook his head as though to clear the way his thoughts were heading. It was ridiculous that he was even thinking about this. It was over. He had claimed her. She was his. His wolf was calm now. He could go about his life without having to worry about going into rut or losing his mind at the thought of another wolf near her. 

And he would not feel guilty about it. 

there was something called the greater good. In the grand scheme of things, one night of discomfort would not cost her anything. But what he was doing was going to change the world for his people. 

Seokjin’s voice filtered in through his thoughts. 

“At least tell her before you leave, Taehyung. You’re literally the kind of bastard who would do something as insensitive as leave her after you mated her and then act like you did nothing wrong. ” 

Annoyed , Taehyung hung up without replying.

Glancing at her, he moved to touch her cheeks again. She was asleep. Sound asleep by the look of it. It would be far more insensitive to wake her up. He would go and meet the guy about the lab results and get back here before she was up. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Ow.” 

 I groaned , muffling my agony against the white sheets as I tried to will myself to get up. Breathe through the pain, I told myself firmly. You do not want to spend the entire day like this. You need a shower, stat. 

 “Taehyung?” I called out weakly, for what felt like the tenth time. But the eerie stillness in the room told me I was alone in the apartment.

 I fumbled with my phone, fighting the urge to call him. If he had left, there had to have been a reason , a reason important enough for him to leave and it struck me again that I had been a little hasty, agreeing to this. 

Fueled entirely by my wish to get rid of the excess amount of cum all over me., I dug both my elbows into the bed, lifting my self up to my hand and knees. The pain radiating from my spine, settling deep in my center and the harsh abrasions on my insides.....all of it was a reminder that I had definitely bitten off more than I could chew. 

The first thing I did was grab the pain killers on the table, popping three of them into my mouth and dry swallowing. It was a little past eleven in the morning and I was starving. But I had to get a shower first. 

The trip to the bathroom was an ordeal and I had to fight tears, just to stand. 

Okay. Maybe a bath was in order than. 

I fumbled with the taps, watching warm water fill the ceramic tub, sweating a bit in the humid room. I glanced at my thighs, lightly stroking the bruises and watching them bloom purple under my fingertips. 

The pain was already ebbing, the tablets doing their thing and with my head a little clearer, my thoughts felt heavy. Regret churned, curdling in my gut and I could taste heartbreak on my tongue. 

Sleeping with him had been a mistake. 

A colossal fucking mistake, I thought desperately. I was already feeling abandoned and miserable. I wanted to throw on some clothes and go find him in his office . Wanted to curl into his lap and then refuse to leave. 

But mostly I wanted to kick myself for feeling that way. 

Taehyung wasn’t ..... available for any kind of relationship.

 He was an Alpha werewolf and important man. 

An important bureaucrat. Someone with power and responsibility. A man driven by his need to protect his kind and destroy anyone who meant him harm.  

A man who would do anything to get his way , even if it meant seducing a human he didn’t even like. 

And he had seduced me I thought , feeling unaccountably upset at myself. 

In the  vivid light of day, with my body aching so fierce and my head spinning , I could remember everything that happened the previous day with a sort of vivid clarity. And it was almost an out of body experience, like watching the whole thing happen to someone else. 

The way he had framed his words, the soothing comfort, the reassurances. That stupid fucking dance in the living room with the most cliché song in the world, it was like something straight out of a chick-lit novel. Something only a naïve, immature , desperate woman would fall for. 

What a cruel heartless bastard, I thought angrily. There was no way he didn’t know the effect of his words and actions on me. There was no way he didn’t know that he was purposely playing the part of a loving partner just to break down any defenses I may have put up. 

And like an idiot I had fallen for it. 

Staring around at the apartment and realizing he had just left me to fend for myself, without so much as a note....... After spouting all that nonsense about making sure I was comfortable. 

And I realized with a jolt that he really only meant it for the sex. All that affection, all that concern had been just for the few hours he had me in his bed. When he meant he wanted to make me feel me meant it only for when we were having sex. 

Now that he had got what he wanted , he was back to being the guy he actually was. 

A complete stranger. 

It made me  feel so incredibly foolish . 

Wetness spilled onto my foot and I realized the tub was overflowing. I closed the taps quickly before pulling the drain to lower the water level a bit. 

Climbing in, I settled back against the hard edge of the tub, letting my eyes flutter shut as the warm water soothed my sore muscles. 

“You’re up?” 

Jungkook’s voice startled me, and I nearly went under.

“Careful.” Fingers gripped my shoulder, pulling me back to stability and I gasped out, running a hand over my face to get rid of the water. 

“You... Where did you come from?” I stared at him , gripping the edges of the tub and watching him.

Jungkook looked like a breath of fresh air, hair slightly damp and clad in a white t shirt and blue jeans. He was grimacing a bit, eyebrows furrowed in evident annoyance.

“This entire room reeks.” He complained, turning on the ventilator in the corner of the bathroom. 

I groaned, settling back and just staring at him as he rummaged in the cupboard, pulling out a few bottles, a fresh wash clothe and bottle of body wash. 

My body hummed in delight at the thought of actually being cared for. 

“I’m not even kidding, is this what having a mate is like? You look like you were in a fight with a thorny hedgerow.” He commented, making his way over , but not before stripping out of his shirt and wiggling out of his jeans. 

I hummed, enjoying the view for a second as he finally settled on a small ottoman, right next to the tub. 

I gave him a sweet smile.

“Why are you here?” I whispered. He reached over to press a kiss to my forehead.

“Hyung told me to come. He got caught up with work and he feels bad about leaving you here all by yourself.” 

“Kim Taehyung....told you to come take care of me. Sounds fake but okay.” 

Jungkook laughed.

“To be fair he actually told your brother. But Yugyeom’s busy and he also doesn’t want to see you naked and so he gave me a call.” Jungkook carefully squeezed a dollop of body wash onto the cloth, before gently smoothing the soft linen against my skin. His gaze held mine as he carefully lathered up my shoulders, my collarbones and the curve of my neck. He took care not to touch the dressing on my neck, where Taehyung had bitten me. 

I smiled when one finger stretched out, tracing circles on my skin . Jungkook was too young to be subtle , and I felt a pang of guilt when I saw the very obvious look in his eye.

 Arousal looked so blatant on his handsome face, lips parted, slicked wet. Eyes heavy and intent as he gently rubbed the skin near my throat, thumb now curving around my neck , gently pressing in. 

His gaze met mine and I held it, feeling his hands move lower, fingers curling lightly on the curve of my breasts. When I felt the brush of his thumb on the hard peak of my nipple, I grabbed his wrist.

Tugging his hand away gently, I used my free hand to lightly flick his forehead.

“Behave.” I warned. 

His gaze turned pouty and he let out a breathy, “ Just wanted to make you feel good noona.” 

“You made me feel a billion times better just by showing up here today. But, I don’t want you to get mauled by Taehyung in case he’s feeling territorial again.  ”   I smiled, shaking my head. “ I’ll take it from here. Why don’t you go wait in the bedroom and I’ll call you when I’m done so you can help me out. of the tub.”

Which in itself , probably wouldn’t be necessary. The pills had done their trick and other than feeling well fucked, I didn’t particularly hurt. 

“He doesn’t deserve you.” Jungkook’s voice was petulant , eyes clearly showing how upset he was. He moved back a bit but made no other attempt to leave.

“I thought you liked him.” I chuckled lightly as he carefully arranged the body wash and the washcloths near the tub. I reached for it myself, carefully scrubbing over my skin, for now ignoring the way Jungkook kept his eyes trained on my body as I pulled my legs up to wash them. It was odd, how little his gaze affected me compared to how my body had reacted to Taehyung last night. 

With Jungkook it was...just physical. 

I liked being touched , so I enjoyed sex with Jungkook. 

With Taehyung it had been something so much more.

The very idea of Taehyung touching me, the idea of him wanting to touch me..that had been so overwhelming. 

And so sex with Taehyung had blown my mind. 

“What do you mean, like him? “ Jungkook frowned. 

“It was always Tae hyung, this and Tae hyung that...” I teased. “ You were never subtle about your little man crush on him.” 

I carefully grabbed the showerhead, wetting my hair gently. 

Jungkook scoffed.

“Of course I like him. You can’t be a wolf and not like Kim Taehyung. He’s done so much for us.” He grabbed the shampoo off the counter but before I could take it from him, he squeezed a bit of it into his palms and sank his fingers into my hair.

“Let me do this for you, noona.,” He muttered , voice deep and soothing and I couldn’t contain the moan that escaped, his fingers feeling like heaven as they carefully lathered up the damp strands, massaging my scalp till my eyes fluttered shut.

“Taehyung has things he needs to do and ...well, I agreed to this just so he could avoid any distractions.” I said gently, reaching out and lightly touching his arm.

“That doesn’t give him the right to hurt you though. “ 

I laughed despite myself.

“Why do you think he hurt me?” 

Jungkook stopped his ministrations.

“You wear your heart on your sleeve.” 

I felt my breath catch at that. This thing with Jungkook, it wasn’t exactly the sort of thing where I felt comfortable enough sharing my feelings for someone else with him. I felt awful, embarrassed and annoyed that  something I hadn’t even fully known myself was , apparently obvious to the world.  . 

Embarrassed because it would never be reciprocated. 

Annoyed because I should have nipped this thing in the bud. 

But I couldn’t talk about this now. 

“It’s not... “ I hesitated. “ It’s not going to be a problem. For me. I’m going to fix it. “  The dull throb of the bite on my neck mocked me, even as I said it. I had agreed to something momentous , something that carried a lot of consequences behind it, and I had done it on a whim. 

Taehyung with his honey dripping tongue and gentle but firm hands had made me dance to his tune so perfectly. But now that the act was over, I was definitely in danger of drowning. 

“ So, you’re just going to hang around while he does his own thing.” Jungkook frowned.

“Actually she’s free to walk out anytime she likes.”

Taehyung’s voice broke through the bathroom like a clanging cymbal and I jerked out of the tub in shock.

Jungkook startled too, eyes going wide as he scrambled to his feet. 

Taehyung looked like he had stepped right out of a magazine. 

He was wearing a perfectly pressed pinstriped white button down and teal green slacks , a slim patterned tie , in hues of green and red, perfectly knotted at the base of his throat and  he also had on a waistcoat, fitting him like a glove, setting off his broad shoulders and trim waist. 

He had his hair styled into a perfect  part, the thick silky locks arching into perfect side bangs that fell into his eyes.

Eyes that held a whole lot of fury as they took in the sight of me, naked in his tub while an almost naked Jungkook had his fingers buried in my hair. 

“I thought you would still be sore from last night....but I suppose that isn’t true, if you felt the need to call for your fuck buddy so soon?” He drawled casually. 

I felt anger swell inside me.

“ Jungkook was kind enough to help me out because I couldn’t even move.” I gritted out. 

“A feat that required him to strip to his boxers?” 

“Hyung, just chill. If I fucked her you would be able to smell it. “ Jungkook snapped, moving to shrug his clothes back on. 

Taehyung ignored him , grabbing a pair of fluffy white towels from the linen closet.

He gave me a look.

“You done?” He asked shortly. 

And somehow, its the sheer disinterest in his tone, the gaze that may as well be directed at a stranger on the fucking road..... That is what really  stings.

I felt like the entire weight of every bad decision I had ever made in my life had just dropped on my head. Almost sagging from the sheer hurt permeating my entire body, I grabbed the edge of the tub and levered myself up, not even bothered that I was completely naked. 

I stepped right out of the tub, completely ignoring the way my limbs practically screamed in protest at the movement. 

I held my hand out for the towel, completely ignoring, Jungkook’s hasty, “ Fuck” or the way Taehyung’s eyes that had gone as wide as saucers. 

He held the towel out and I yanked it out of his grip, wrapping the fabric around my body. 

Taehyung let out a harsh, “ Get the fuck out of my house.” at Jungkook who quickly grabbed his jeans and stumbled out with a rushed.

“I’ll call you noona.” 

I glared at Taehyung, refusing to so much as acknowledge him as I pushed past him into the living room.

“Jungkook wait, I’m coming with you.” I called out angrily and the wolf stopped, looking surprised as he finished pulling his jeans on, fumbling with his buttons.

“Leave, Jungkook.” Taehyung snapped.

“Uh....” Jungkook stared between the two of us.

“Why the fuck are you still here?” This time Taehyung’s voice was louder, deeper, bordering on a true snarl and Jungkook recoiled.

“Fine. I’ll just get a cab then.” 

I turned to the bag with my clothes, grabbing the first thing I could get my hands on. 

Taehyung’s voice came from behind me , tired and weary.

“Please don’t leave.”

I stopped, closing my eyes and willing myself not to completely lose it.

“Please , just.... I know I shouldn’t be angry. This thing with us is ...nothing.” He said softly, which , fucking  ouch .  Having him actually say it was so much worse. 

But he wasn’t done.

  “  Its just a fucking favor you’re doing me, i know that is what it is. We don’t owe each other anything I know , but if you're gonna see Jungkook just... not in my house okay. I didn’t like him with you...in  my  house.”

I turned around to stare at him.

“What do you think I was doing with him in  your  house Taehyung? He came over to help because Yugyeom was busy. You were the one who asked him to check up on me....weren’t you?”

Taehyung ran his fingers through his hair. 

“I don’t fucking know...all I know is that my wolf smelled you and another alpha and-”

“You know you’re the only were who speaks like that...” I said angrily.

Taehyung blinked.

“Like what?”

“Like you and your wolf are two different entities. Like you can do any thing you want and then blame your damn wolf for it. And its beginning to piss me off.” 

Taehyung flinched at that.

“I’m just... I’m trying to do this in a way that our lives don’t get fucked up. I can’t... Your father....”

“I know. I know my fucking father is a scumbag and that he needs to rot in hell and I am willing to help you do it. But if only you could just.... give me a fucking break .,...” 

“I know...and I’m sorry. I just... I’m in a mess. Your father got rid of three of the dealers we could tie him to and it looks like there are other people involved in this whole thing. Other powerful men. I’m just... I’m not sure if I’m going to be able to do this without getting someone close to your father.”

I stared at him.

“Well, its not me. He hates my guts... He would never confide in me.”

“But he has a soft spot for a really close friend of mine....I believe you’ve met him....his name is Cha Eun Woo.”

I froze. 

“Taehyung....”  I groaned in disbelief. 

“I wanted to ask you if you would pretend to date Cha Eun Woo...”

I felt like my head was about to splinter in two. 

“Just long enough for me to get the info I need. Eun Woo is good at what he does and he can easily get into your father’s good graces, get him to confide in him and we could bring this entire fucking racket down...but the only way Eun woo could have access to your father would be through you.... “ 

Taehyung sounded desperate as he spoke, and I felt dangerously close to crying. 

“So it wasn’t enough that you got to fuck me? You’re just gonna pimp me out to your friends now...” I choked out.

“Fucking hell, Rae...That’s not what this is....This is for the...”

“Greater good.....yeah... I know.... I fucking heard you today morning on the fucking phone...Telling your friend how you had to suffer through a night with me for the greater good. And that's just perfectly fine....what I really don’t understand is why you had to fucking pretend like you actually gave a shit about me.... “ I  choked out , my eyes dampening against my wishes . 

Taehyung froze, eyes wide. 

Something awfully close to pity began to swim in them and I swallowed the bile rising up my throat. 

“Fine. Tell your fucking friend to come pick me up.” 

I couldn’t bring myself to even look at him. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author’s Note : Feedback is love.

Let me know what you guys thought. 

Taglist : @veronawrites

@ladyartemesia

@jincentvangogh

@bonyg

#taehyung smut #taehyung fanfic #taehyung au #bts smut #bts fics #bts au #taehyung werewolf au #bts werewolf au #taehyung fics

[suituuup]

comme une idylle

Beca gets an odd request from a stranger while in Paris

rating: G

word count: 2801

happy birthday @green-eyed-weirdo​  🥰 I hope you like it!

moodboard and beta by the lovely @snowonebutyou

ao3 link

*

“Dude, is this really necessary?”

Stacie hums. “It’s French fashion.”

Beca rolls her eyes. “I feel like if that were true, we would have seen some people wearing it by now. This just screams ‘I’m an American tourist’ to me.”

Stacie ignores her, adjusting the beret over her head as she stands in front of the mirror. “I think I look sexy with this. Very… chic.”

“Great. If you decide to walk around with that and a baguette under your arm I’m going solo on our tour.”

Stacie plucks another beret from the shelf and screws it over Beca’s head. “Aw, you look like Gavroche.”

“Fuck you, dude,” Beca mutters, taking it off and flattening her hair with her palm as she places the hat back in its initial spot. “I’m hungry.”

“You’re always hungry,” Stacie points out, and Beca can’t really contradict her.

Once Stacie has finally picked one of those ridiculous hats, they head up the cobblestone street and find themselves a brasserie (one of those restaurants where you can get just a drink or have a full meal) for lunch. It’s pretty hot (a bit too hot for Beca’s taste, but she’s hopefully applied enough sunscreen not to resemble a lobster by the end of the day) in Paris that day, but they find shelter under one of those huge parasols, a gentle breeze sweeping in ever so often as they gaze at the food options.

Melodic giggles draw Beca’s focus away from the badly translated menu and towards two tables over to her left. They belong to a redhead, who just happens to be as radiant as her laughter, and Beca finds herself staring a beat too long, catching Stacie’s attention.

“She’s cute.”

Beca’s cheeks heat up as soon as she realizes she’s been caught, and she looks back at her menu so quickly something in her neck twitches. She clears her throat. “What are you talking about?”

“Aww, you adorable baby bisexual. You should go talk to her. Or buy her a drink.”

“Dude, no,” Beca hisses.

Stacie is silent for a few beats, clearly listening in. “She’s American.”

Beca makes a noncommittal sound. “And?”

Stacie leans over, a smirk curving her lips. “Imagine how romantic it would be, you two meeting in Paris and finding each other again in the States. That’s Nicholas Sparks shit right here.”

Beca finds Stacie’s eyes over the menu. “You seem to have forgotten a slight detail: I don’t know how to talk to women.”

Stacie’s eyes roll skyward. “Maybe you should try.”

The waiter thankfully puts a temporary end to the conversation, and once he’s gone with their orders, Beca sees that so is the redhead and her friend.

“Well, there goes your Parisian romance,” Stacie says, sighing softly.

Beca doesn’t really think about the stranger again, not until the end of the day. Stacie insists on heading to the Eiffel Tower to catch the sunset (and probably take a bunch of pictures for her influencer Instagram account), and Beca ignores her aching feet, feeling like she’s already been complaining a lot today.

“Hi there.”

Beca twists her head to the left to find the stranger from the cafe. Her blue eyes nearly make her stumble. “Um, hi?”

“So this might sound really weird, but I’ve always wanted a romantic picture in front of the Eiffel Tower and my boyfriend just dumped me before this trip and well, I was wondering if you’d pose with me?”

That’s a lot of information in five seconds, and Beca blinks twice in slow succession. “Pose, as in…?”

“As in, kiss me?”

She hears Stacie gasp beside her and doesn’t even want to spare her a glance. Her ears feel like they just caught on fire and her voice is nowhere to be found.

It’s only when Stacie jabs her elbow into her ribs that Beca says something. “I, uh, I-- what?”

Well, close to saying something.

The other woman giggles. “You’re really cute. And I asked if you’d like to take a photo with me.”

“Kissing,” Beca echoes, just to make sure.

The redhead grimaces. “Sorry, you’re totes creeped out. I’ll find someone else.”

“She’ll do it,” Stacie announces before Beca can say anything else.

“What, dude,” Beca interjects.

“If you don’t I will,” Stacie mutters, and that shoves Beca into motion.

“Um yeah, sure,” she tells the stranger. A shaky nod. “I’ll do it.”

“Awes!” She hands Stacie her phone. “My friend Aubrey can take the pic.”

Beca notices the blonde standing off to the side and waves awkwardly before her friend slides her hand into hers and tugs her forward. Beca’s heart starts to race a little as they come to a stop at the top of the stairs splaying out over the Trocadero gardens.

“Wait, what’s your name?” The stranger asks, seemingly as an afterthought.

“Um, Beca,” Beca says.

“Nice to meet you, Beca. I’m Chloe.”

Beca nods, tongue poking out to wet her lips. “Cool. Cool, cool, cool. So um,” she wipes her hands over her jeans. “How should we…”

“I’ll just kiss you now,” Chloe says, amusement clear in her tone.

Beca wants to dig herself a hole. But that thought vanishes as soon as Chloe starts leaning in, and her eyes slam shut the moment those soft, full lips brush against hers in a gentle kiss. She hears herself humming as her head tilts forward to chase the remaining distance between them, pushing a firmer kiss against Chloe’s mouth. It’s Chloe’s turn to make a sound this time, and Beca nearly forgets her own name.

She instantly forgets about the photo, and the fact that Chloe is a stranger, too caught up in how good this feels to really care. She does, however, come to her senses when she starts to lack oxygen and pulls away with a sheepish smile, her cheeks flaming.

“Damn…” Chloe murmurs, eyes alight. “I picked well.”

Beca clears her throat and tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, avoiding her eyes. “Glad I could be of service,” she mumbles with an awkward salute.

(yes, yes, a goddamn salute because she’s a fucking dork.)

Chloe giggles and Beca suddenly feels high on the sound. “Too bad my friend and I have to leave tonight. I could have definitely gone for an encore performance.”

Beca isn’t sure how redder her face can get before it matches the shade of her plaid shirt. “That’s uh, too bad.”

“Well thanks for doing it for me,” Chloe says with a wink, then kisses her cheek. “Bye, Beca.”

“Bye,” Beca murmurs, somewhat still in a kiss-induced daze as she watches her go.

“Holy crap, dude,” Stacie says when she catches up with her. “You totally made out with her.”

Beca chuckles, rubbing the back of her neck. “We um, got carried away?”

Stacie punches her arm. “Tell me you got her number.”

Beca shakes her head. “She probably lives like, in LA or something.”

“Oh my god, you’re such an idiot.”

Beca has to agree; she’s the biggest idiot in the world.

The rest of their trip goes smoothly. Beca only has to listen to Stacie having sex once, which is a wonder, considering it’s Stacie, and the two fly back to New York at the end of the week, heads filled with good memories of their trip abroad.

“I still can’t believe you didn’t ask for her number,” Stacie says as they walk out of the arrival gate at JFK.

“Oh my god, would you let it go?” Beca groans, tilting her head back.

“She was so hot.”

“I know,” Beca whines. “But I won’t find her again so let’s just not talk about it anymore.”

“Fine.”

It’s a few days later, as she’s aimlessly scrolling through TikTok as she does every night before bed, that Beca sees it. She almost scrolls past it because ugh, couples, but the yellow summer dress and red hair catch her attention and have her sitting up with a jolt. Her breathes hitches in her throat as she reads the caption:

I hope this cute girl I met in Paris and asked for a pic of us kissing so I could pretend I had a romantic time in France sees this so I can take her out on a date

The video blew up, counting over a million likes and fifteen thousand comments. Her trembling thumb presses on the comment section.

Okay, TikTok, do your thing, we need to find this girl!!

Omg they’re so cute

Imagine they find each other!!

Beca swallows, licking her suddenly dry lips. “Imagine…” she breathes out as she presses on Chloe’s profile picture, hits follow, and then taps Message.

Hey, so… it’s Beca. The girl from Paris?

She locks her phone right after hitting send and buries her face in her palms, emitting a low groan. Her phone pinging less than a minute later makes her heart pound against her ribs. She reaches for it and peeks at the screen with one eye.

omg, hi!! it’s really you?

She figures maybe a few people have sent Chloe a message because hello, who wouldn’t, pretending it was her. So Beca thinks proving it is really her could be a good thing.

If by me you mean the dork who freaking saluted you after our kiss, yep that’s me.

Beca bites down on her bottom lip as she watches the three dots pop up on the screen.

I can’t believe it worked! I’ve been thinking about you a lot since that day.

Butterflies go off in her belly, and before Beca can ponder on how cheesy this is, she’s typing something back.

Me too. That was um, a really good kiss. And you’re pretty.

Oh god, I’m facepalming so hard right now. Sorry I… don’t really know how to talk to girls.

To her surprise, Chloe doesn’t seem put off by it.

You’re very cute. May I ask where you live?

Beca doesn’t want to get her hopes up, because the States are fucking huge, and she doesn’t see herself jumping into a long-distance whatever.

NYC. You?

I go to vet school in Ithaca.

Ithaca. Beca knows it’s in the state, but she googles how close just to make sure. Another message from Chloe comes through.

I’m usually in the city once a month since my best friend lives there. Would you… like to go out on a date when I’m around?

“Dude, chill out,” she mutters to herself when she feels a wave of warmth encompass her entire being.

Sure, yeah. I’d like that.

They exchange numbers and end up texting for most of the evening until Chloe announces she has to head to bed because she has an early lecture the following morning.

Beca is about to turn off the lights too, that idiotic smile still stuck to her lips, when her phone buzzes with a text message from Stacie.

DUDE!!! Watch this NOW

A TikTok link follows, and Beca knows what it is before she even opens it.

Wow. This really blew up, huh.

Stacie’s reply comes through less than five seconds later. That’s all you have to say?! Tell me you’re going to message her. I got dibs on Maid of Honor at your wedding, btw.

Beca rolls her eyes. She ponders telling Stacie but decides to keep Chloe to herself for a while. I’ll think about it.

She’s a fidgeting mess the morning leading up to their date. Chloe told her to meet her by the River Cafe in Dumbo, and Beca has spent entirely too much time deciding on what to wear, which really never happens.

Chloe is already there when she makes it to the park, and Beca buries her hands into her jacket pockets to keep them from wringing together. Chloe doesn’t see her right away, gazing up at the Brooklyn Bridge instead.

“Do you have a thing for iconic iron monuments?” She teases as she approaches, catching Chloe’s attention. She narrows her eyes playfully. “Are you gonna try and kiss me again?” A gasp flies past her lips as she exaggeratedly lies a hand over her chest. “Are you just using me to go viral on TikTok?”

Chloe giggles. “You’re a dork,” she says, grinning. “Hi.”

“Hey,” Beca breathes out, relaxing her shoulders as she smiles back.

“You like ice cream?” Chloe asks, nodding towards the vendor across the grassy area.

“Sure,” Beca says, and they fall into a step towards it. She takes her brain for something to say before things get awkward, but Chloe beats her to it.

“So what’s it like being a TikTok sensation?”

Beca barks out a laugh. “Amazing. One of my life goals for sure,” she jokes, cutting Chloe an amused glance.

Chloe giggles. “I honestly didn’t think it would blow up. But I’m glad it did ‘cause not finding you would have sucked.”

Beca clears her throat, looking down for a second. “Me too. I was really beating myself up for not asking for your number back in Paris.”

Chloe’s lips curve in a small smile, and she looks like she’s about to say something, but it’s their turn to order.

Ice creams in hand, they settle down on the grass to enjoy them. The weather is nice, not too hot with a gentle breeze rolling by once in a while.

“So what are some of your life goals, then?” Chloe asks once they’ve sat down.

“Making a living out of music is the main one,” she says. “I work as assistant producer right now, but the job is pretty crappy.”

“I may or may not have stalked your Instagram,” Chloe admits next. “You have an amazing voice.”

“Oh,” Beca lets out, feeling her cheeks heat up. “Thanks.” She clears her throat. “You’re into music?” Strangely something that hadn’t come up during their texting.

Chloe nods, smiling. “I was in an acapella group in college.”

Beca’s eyebrows shoot up, and she laughs before she can help herself. “Wait, seriously? You’re an acapella nerd?”

Chloe shoves her shoulder, laughing as well. “Shut up.”

“I guess we all make questionable choices in college, huh?”

Chloe huffs, throwing Beca a glare. Beca spots a sprinkle of amusement in her eyes, so she doesn’t think Chloe is truly mad.

“I’m just messing with you,” she says, softening. “I think any kind of music is neat. And singing without instruments is actually pretty impressive.”

“Thanks,” Chloe says lightly. “There’s just… something about music, you know. It soothes the soul and makes you escape the real world for a few minutes.”

A genuine smile curves Beca’s lips. It’s exactly how she would describe what music does to her. “Yeah.”

She eyes Chloe’s profile, still a little bit struck over the fact that this gorgeous girl is on a date with her.

“What?” Chloe asks with curiosity swirling in her eyes when she catches Beca staring.

Beca blinks. “Nothing. I…” she clears her throat. “You’re just really pretty.” She scrunches up her nose. “See? I’m awkward as fuck.”

Chloe chuckles and slides her hand into Beca’s free one. “I think it’s cute.”

Beca grumbles. “I’m not cute, I’m badass.”

Their time together flies by as they learn more about one another, Beca even managing to convince Chloe to show her some acapella videos. The sun sets without either realizing and the park is near empty, save for a couple strolling by in the distance.

“I should head back to Aubrey’s,” Chloe says when it gets a bit chillier. “I said I’d be home for dinner.”

Beca is a bit disappointed, but she nods, smiling. “Okay.”

She pushes to her feet and helps Chloe to hers, her eyes dropping to Chloe’s lips once they’re both standing.

“You know… I didn’t really care about the video,” Chloe murmurs, stepping closer. “I saw you at the restaurant and thought you were really cute. When I spotted you again later, I had to think of something.”

Beca raises an eyebrow. “I noticed you at the restaurant, too.”

“I know. You weren’t being very subtle.”

Beca huffs. “Shut up.”

Chloe simply laughs, her eyes sweeping down to Beca’s lips before she leans in. Beca is a lot less nervous this time around, and she hums as those familiar lips glide over hers flawlessly, her hands bunching up in Chloe’s top as she holds her waist. It’s over way too soon for her liking, but she has to remind herself they’re in public, and how she’ll probably get to do that again very soon.

“See you soon?” Chloe murmurs when they part, brushing her nose against Beca’s.

Beca nods and squeezes her waist. “Yeah.”

With one last kiss, she watches Chloe go in a similar state of a daze as in Paris.

Something tells her this is the start of something amazing.

#bechloe #beca mitchell #Chloe beale #pitch perfect fanfiction

[kataraslove]

katara: “do you hear that?”

aang: “sounds like it’s coming from over there...”

for kataang week day 3: post canon @kataang-week​

newly wedded aang and katara (now sporting a cute little bob) were travelling across the world for their honeymoon. on their way to the kingdom of omashu, the two decided to stop and revisit the cave of two lovers. as aang and katara leaned in for a quick kiss by the entrance of the cave, they heard a blood-curling scream come from inside. immediately pulling away, the couple shared a suspicious look with each other before deciding to investigate.

katara cautiously grabbed her pouch as aang drew out a small flame to lead the way. however, the waterbender stopped her husband to remind him that the tunnels were filled with fluorescent crystals that glowed in the dark. 

“oh yeah,” aang recalled. he looked down at the flame dwindling in his palm. “i’ll put it out when we get further in there. if we hear screaming again, we’ll be able to find out where it came from.” 

“you can also use your earth bending this time around.” 

aang nodded. “that i can.” the gentle lines of his face - reserved especially for his wife - quickly switched up to the avatar look, the signature look that he bore whenever there was danger and people in need of his help. 

“let’s go.”

(continued under the cut, 2.4k words)

the broad sunlight of the summer day was reduced to a small crevice against their backs, as the two lovers made their way into the shadows of the labyrinth. their primary light source came from aang’s flame, which had grown brighter the farther they travelled. the avatar could not help but become a little bit mesmerized with the vivid red and orange hues that danced in his left palm, the warmth that occupied his hand having stretched out to his entire body. the flame synchronized so perfectly well with his heartbeat. fire is life, he recalled the words of the sun warrior chief. not just destruction. 

aang nearly chuckled out loud. firebending came so naturally to him now - almost as natural as his airbending. to think that there was ever a time that he had outright hated the element and vowed to never learn it, even if it had meant jeopardizing his avatarhood.

however, a small voice crept to the back of his mind, uncomfortably reminding of the exact reason as to why he initially refused to learn the element at the age of twelve. it was the same reason that brought shame and guilt inside his gut - even eight years later - whenever the memory unexpectedly crossed his mind. what he had done to katara on that day, how he had refused to listen to jeong jeong’s advice and lost control of his fire, the image of her fresh burns - it was all there, forever smeared across his brain and heart as a painful reminder. no matter how many times katara had insisted that good had come from that day through the discovery of her healing abilities, aang could never wash away the trauma associated with that event.

he inhaled sharply. it won’t happen again. he wasn’t twelve anymore, and he had full control over all the elements now. fire was energy, he had learned, and life.

sparing a glance at katara, who had been awfully quiet since they got into the cave, he noticed that his wife was chewing anxiously on her lower lip. the trouble in her beautiful features was easily detectable by the bright flames within his hand. he moved closer to her, his shoulder gently bumping hers in an attempt to comfort her. “you okay?”

she met his eyes, and he could see the hint of fear reflected in them. “aang, i’m worried.”

“you have nothing to be worried about,” aang reassured her with a small smile. “whatever it is, or whoever it is, we can take ‘em.”

katara shook her head. “i’m not worried about the who. we’ve probably dealt with far worse than whatever is lingering in this cave. but i - aang, what if it’s bad?”

he frowned, confused. “what if what’s bad, then?”

she studied her hands carefully. her hands were the hands of a fighter, of a healer. the same hands who had resurrected an avatar back to life and saved a firelord from near death, while dismantling another firelord from the throne. he felt the sudden urge to draw her hands in his own, to hold her tight enough to ease away her fears.

“what if there’s a bunch of dead bodies stashed away in this tunnel, rotting away for days or even weeks?” she answered in alarm, eyes widening at the dark path ahead of them. “or, what if there’s a bunch of people lying around in pain, on the brink of death, and I don’t have enough water to save them all?”

his eyes turned to the road ahead. he saw nothing, except for earth and more earth. but he knew better than to dismiss those kind of fears. 

“that wouldn’t be your fault.” he responded gently. “we’ll do our best to help, to make sure that whoever is out there is safe and unharmed. but if they do happen to be harmed - or worse, dead - and we’ve tried everything that we could,” he shuttered out a breath at the imagery. “i don’t want you to blame yourself for whoever you can’t save, katara.”

“and i don’t want you to blame yourself, aang.” she placed a hand on his shoulder as they walked on. he tried to ignore the immediate sweep of panic churning in his stomach at her proximity to the fire. if he envisioned a future with both katara and firebending, he would have to get used to accepting that she would be around the times when he required the element. 

“i know you feel a sense of responsibility, as the avatar, to ensure that the world is kept safe,” she continued on. her voice softened, a sad tone. “i know it upsets you when it isn’t.”

“wasn’t i the one consoling you just a second ago?” aang joked, deflecting. 

“we’re consoling each other.” katara insisted with a small smile. the corners of her mouth dropped at her next statement: “i know you don’t like to talk about it, aang, the stress and pressure that you feel. but i also know how it keeps you up at night. why you choose to sometimes spend long periods of time meditating.”

just like that, she had flipped the switch on him in the way that only she knew how. katara was undoubtedly right. of course he had seen and experienced his fair amount of injustice and morbidity; they all had. but the guilt of not being able to do anything about it - to know that people all over the world were counting on him to end their suffering and plight and despair, while there were many days when all he could do was sit in lavish cushions arguing endlessly with politicians who could not relate to the earth kingdom boy who had nothing to eat, or to the water tribe girl who had lost her parents, or to the air nomad who was the sole survivor of an entire culture - ate away at his heart and mind at every minute of every hour. even now, when he was supposed to be enjoying his blissful vacation with his wife.

“aang.” he felt katara lightly pull his chin towards her, forcing him to look at her before his mind could wander down the same dangerous road that it had so many days and nights before. she stopped the two in their tracks, the light from his palm illuminating their darkened features.

the fire reflected back in the indigo of her eyes, embodying the energy and intensity and life that was katara, his best friend, his saviour. suddenly, he was transported back to a time during the war, when he had just been a fidgety twelve year-old boy staring up at his fourteen year-old best friend. his heart thumped furiously against his chest the closer he inched to her face. when their lips met, he felt electricity course through his veins and wondered if the warmth that pooled in his stomach was what love felt like. 

as he caught her lips in his own again, this time at the age of twenty, he could confirm - a memoir to his twelve year old self - that the warmth was indeed love. but love was also so much more, he came to realize over the years. love was the cautious hands of a fourteen year-old girl spending weeks at his side, healing him from his coma, sobbing in despair and frustration when he would not wake up. love was the way that he had thrown his arms around her waist, and she around his neck, relief flooding each other’s veins at the knowledge that they were both alive and safe and together after his defeat of ozai and her defeat of azula. love was the way her hand fit so perfectly in his, palm pressed to palm and fingers intertwined, as the two watched the early formations of republic city from their home, vowing to leave a lasting legacy on a world where benders and non-benders of all types could live together in safety and harmony.

love was also the brief kiss in an abandoned cave that said a million more things than he could ever say in words. 

when the two pulled back, he noted the way that her eyes twinkled up at him under the fluorescent light. the crystals shone overhead, leading them down a familiar path, just as how it had done when he was twelve. aang checked his left palm and realized that he had extinguished his flame during the kiss. 

katara’s smile reached her eyes when she grabbed for his hand, pulling him along. “funny,” she said, bemused. “that thing you said when we were kids. guess it held up all these years, didn’t it?”

“what thing?”

“oh, you know,” she replied with a casual shrug, a mischievous glint forming in her eye. “you choosing to kiss me over dying - ”

he groaned. she was never going to let him live that one, was she?

“did i say that?” aang feigned innocence. “i can’t quite recall. maybe what my awkward twelve-year old self had meant to say, instead, was that the thought of not being able to kiss you is just so unbearable that i would rather have chosen death.”

“mmhmmm. sure you had.” a blush slowly crept up her cheeks, betraying her sarcastic tone. success.

“good thing that hasn’t happened yet, though. the not being able to kiss you anymore part.” he paused, adding as an afterthought: “the death part, too, if we’re being honest.”

“don’t speak so soon. what if there’s a serial killer in here?” she hushed him, looking around conspiratorially. 

“you’d rather a serial killer kiss you instead of your own husband? ouch.” 

she smacked his arm. “aang! i’m serious. with the recent bender supremacy uprisings going on in major cities of the earth kingdom, it’s not out of the realm of possibility. what’s stopping a bender supremacist from kidnapping a bunch of non-benders in omashu and dumping their bodies in this cave right now?”

“well, for starters, we would’ve heard by now if that were the case, wouldn’t we have? there’d be rumours, like with what happened with hama. so far, there hasn’t been any reports of mysterious non-bender disappearances in the cities where the uprisings are taking place. definitely not any in omashu.”

a dark look settled across katara’s face at the mention of the estranged bloodbender. “an earth bender supremacist could be dragging bodies from the city and burying them in the rubble of the tunnels. no one would even think to look because the legend says that the cave is cursed.”

aang scratched his head, suddenly very wary about his surroundings. his eyes scanned everywhere around him, from the plethora of crystals that provided them light on top to the solid stone that held the cave in place, trying to spot any semblance of a decomposing body. just as before, he couldn’t detect anything unusual.

while he knew that katara’s suspicions had merit to them, his mind still hesitated over the idea of a bender supremacist trapping people in caves. he would have heard something by now, if that were the case. besides, they were drawing all of these inferences from a scream that he wasn’t even sure came from a human. the high-pitched sound could have belonged to a species of wolfbats, for all they knew. and even if it were to emerge out of a person, who was to say that it was connected to the victim of a bender supremacist murderer? it could have been from a lost and hungry traveler stuck in the cave for days, unsure of their way out. or perhaps it was from someone whose foot was trapped under rubble, screaming out in sheer pain. maybe it even belonged to a villager being chased by an angry spirit.

he walked over to one of the walls, running his hand over the sharp rocks that pricked at his skin. or perhaps, he thought bitterly, gritting his teeth, it was his own refusal to accept that he was failing the world again that led him to dismiss such possibilities. given the political climate, it was entirely possible that bender supremacists were using their bending to hide bodies within the cave. he just wasn’t aware of any of it because it was all taking place underneath his nose, while he remained in blissful ignorance with the women he loved on what was supposed to be his vacation.

aang closed his eyes. he focused on the vibrations emitting from the ground, trying to detect if there was anything that could give him a clue, like a direction to the source of the scream. he was even searching for the large footsteps of badger moles or the fluttering wings of wolfbats. while he was no toph, his earthbending had vastly improved over the years to the point where he had gotten very good at perceiving the world around and underneath him through vibrations. but this time around, he was sensing absolutely nothing. 

well, not entirely nothing. aang noted that some parts of the earth below his hand felt kind of fresh. and quite warm. it didn’t take an earth bender to realize that their texture and temperature were evidently different from the rocks comprising the rest of the cave. this new formation of rock - whatever it was - also felt very familiar to him, almost like he had dealt with this type before. 

his eyes widened in recognition. it was rock that had hardened after the eruption of a volcano. and not just any ordinary eruption; a special kind of eruption that didn’t require any volcano whatsoever.

lavabending.

“hey, katara. would you be able to come over here? i think i found something.”

aang’s words were interrupted by the sudden howl of a blood-curling scream. this time, he had felt the vibrations perfectly through the earth, and spirits did they hurt. he winced in pain, his ears ringing, reflexively removing his hand off the ground.

the screaming did not seem to stop the longer the seconds passed. multiple more emitted from the path ahead in unison, echoing off the chambers of the cave. his heart pounded. there was no denying that the cries had unmistakably belonged to humans. 

katara already had a stream of water out from her pouch. she had sprang into action, pointing in the precise direction that the noise was coming from. 

“this way,” she shouted, running ahead. 

be careful, he couldn’t help think as he trailed after her.

--

this art was adapted from the following comic panel in imbalance part 2:

#kataang week 2021 #kataang #kataangtag

[hoedorokishoto]

Trust - Part 2

Shoto Todoroki x Reader 

warnings - explicit sex, swearing 

previous | part | next

Todoroki had gotten taller since the last time I had been this close to him. His body also filling out and getting stronger from all the training. Changes that weren't noticeable until I was inches away from him, measuring his body for any new costume changes that might be required. From watching the training exercise I had concluded that putting a mesh suit under his current costume was the best course of action. One that was highly resistant to both hot and cold, to decrease the number of small burns and frostbite he seemed to get from using his quirk at high outputs. The same mesh being impenetrable and good if a villain ever decided to stab the future pro.

"Shinso said you are very good, and that I'm in good hands." Todoroki said, looking down at me as I continued to take his measurements.

"Were you worried beforehand?" I asked, quirking my eyebrow, and standing up. His dual-coloured eyes continued to burn holes in my back wherever I walked around the workshop.

"Is there a reason you keep staring at me?" I asked softly, not mad but uncomfortable with the constant attention.

"I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable; I just like watching you work."

"I'm excited to see what you come up with."

Todoroki looked the part of being cool and confident but sometimes the way he spoke reminded me of what an awkward little bean he could truly be. Hitoshi stating that his social skills could still use a little work.

"Well, I'm glad you are excited. I think I could make a lot of cool improvements."

It wasn't a lie, I was excited. Any opportunity to further my career as Hero Support or be in the workshop creating new inventions was always a plus to me. It was the Hero in front of me that I had reservations about. Being with new people who I didn't really know wasn't my idea of fun. Neither was small talk. At least we had that in common, both of our silences falling over us like a heavy blanket, and it seemed that neither of us knew how to escape it.

"Are you-."

"You shou-."

You both said at the same time, looking at each other. A smile crept onto my face as Shoto's cheeks darkened with a small blush. Shoto looked down at his feet, his two-toned hair coming down to fall over his eyes.

"You were saying?" I asked, stepping closer to Todoroki, and looking up into his eyes, trying to keep him flustered, finding his awkwardness cute and endearing. He didn't step back, sizing me up.

We were so close I could feel the heat coming off his body, the proximity causing goosebumps to spread down my arms.

"I was saying you should have seen my first hero suit; it was really bad. Or as Ashido says tragic." Todoroki said, his voice low, his face still so close I could feel his breath. Todoroki was handsome, I would have to be blind to deny it. His features were sharp and prominent, his half and half colouring only adding to his air of mystery. I wanted to test the waters; see exactly how far I could push him.

"I have a feeling you could wear a sheet and still look good." I stated. Dropping back down in front of him and measuring his inseam.

"You think so?" Todoroki asked a smirk plastered across his face as he looked down at me.

"If I wanted to see you naked I think I know just how I could make that happen." I said.

Despite my brave statement I still blushed as he looked down at me still, his eyes never leaving mine.

"I bet you haven't seen anything like this." He answered quickly, leaving my mind racing. The position we were in doing nothing to help me try to get a handle on the situation.

"Are you trying to fluster me?" Todoroki asked, leaning down and putting his fingers under my chin, guiding me back up to stand with him.

"Is it working?" I asked, a similar smirk falling across my face. Leaning into his touch, his left hand warm on my skin.

"Maybe..." Is all he said, stepping off the platform and turning towards the door, picking up his bag and school uniform jacket as he went.

"Same time tomorrow?" He asked, turning around one more time to look at me, my eyes wide, trying to comprehend the situation. I didn't speak, just nodded my head in his direction and spun around. Heading to the workbench to write down all the measurements I took while it was fresh in my mind. I wanted my mind to be anywhere but thoughts of Todoroki and whatever had just happened.

                                                               *

The regular noise of the 3H dorm filled my ears as we all sat down for dinner, various pots of stew and bowls of rice steaming, spread out across the table. The day had ended like any other, covered in grease and staying in the workshop at least an hour later than you intended to only coming back to the dorm when one of the teachers turned off the lights and refused to put them back on.

"Todoroki huh, that's cool. He has a really cool quirk and you're a genius so it's like a match made in Heaven." Mei stated, her hair sticking up behind her goggles and her skin looking just as grease-stained as mine.

I just nodded, scooping rice into my mouth to avoid any real conversation, wanting to be showered and in bed as soon as possible. The exchange between Todoroki and I was still fresh in my mind even now. The intensity of his dual-coloured eyes burnt into my brain.

"Y/N lost for words? I never thought I'd see the day."

"I'm not lost for words; I just don't have anything to say..."

"So you are lost for words?" Mei laughed, swinging her arm around my shoulder, and hugging me close. I was grateful that I had found her, other than Hitoshi she was my first real friend, bonding over our love of machinery and design. She was quick to call me out on my bullshit when I needed it and quick to be a shoulder to cry on. On top of that she was a genius who always had insight into whatever project I was working on, helping, and lending advice whenever necessary. If you looked up mum friend in the dictionary she was it. If your mum stayed up all night, had big boobs, ran on coffee and had a steam punk obsession.

Ding

Sen – Hey, how was your day? You busy tonight?

Even the way he typed was perfect, down to the last comma. I wished that Sen could be anything other than someone I fucked around with but the feelings one should have just weren't there. I often wondered if I was keeping him from someone, someone who could return his feelings. Someone who deserved to receive nicely punctuated text messages over dinner wondering about how their day was.

Y/N – Your room or mine?

                                                             *

His grip on my waist was so hard I thought it might bruise, but that was an afterthought as I felt Sen thrust up into me, filling me up and hitting the spot inside me that caused a knot to grow in my stomach, a sign of my impending orgasm.

I looked down at him, his eyes closed as his head was thrown back, his face was cute in this situation. Different from the handsome angular face he usually wore. His brown hair was stuck to his temples, our bodies sweaty from the activities we were currently partaking in.

"You feel so good." Sen moaned out, his mouth starting to kiss up my neck, his handing snaking around and holding the back of my head and neck. Holding me somewhat steady as I continued to ride him.

We both picked up the pace, chasing our orgasms as the sound of skin on skin rang out throughout the room. He kissed me, hard. All teeth and tongues. Both of us coming together with a loud moan. I slumped into him, his arms circling around me pulling me closer as we both caught our breath. I wished I hated him, I wished I didn't care about his feelings. He was comforting, it was times like this that I really wished I could like him how he wanted me to. How he deserved.

I rolled off him, planting my feet on the ground, walking around the room looking for my clothes that had been thrown around the room. I heard Sen shuffle behind me, taking off the condom, tying it off, and throwing it in the trash can by the door.

He came up behind me, I could feel his presence looming over me like a ghost. He reached out and touched my side as I pulled my jeans back up and clipped my bra up.

"You don't have to go." Sen said quietly, almost a whisper. There it was, the words that had the power to cleave my heart in two. Not for my sake but for his, at every turn I was reminded how bad of a person I was, I reminded myself that no matter how nice people were to you or how good it felt when they were inside you, nothing ever really lasted, and the people who claimed to care the most were always the first ones to leave. Why couldn't Sen see that?  Romantic relationships were a distraction which I didn't want to get myself involved in and neither should he.

I turned and took the shirt from him that he held out, slipping it over my head. Collecting the last of my things like my phone and shoes and stopped in front of him once again.

"I'll text you later." I said softly, stepping up onto my tiptoes and kissing his cheek. Not looking back as I left his dorm and made my way to the elevator. Praying that all his classmates and Mr. Vlad were asleep.

I made it out of the 3B dorms without any fuss, no hero students, or pro heroes in sight. Thank God. The night air was cool and made the walk back to my dorm quite pleasant, I wasn't in a rush, taking in everything around me. The students jogging around the grounds and the dorms that were lit up with life. The 1st years loudly yelling and laughing, no doubt getting used to dorm life.

I came to a stop outside the 3A dorm, contemplating visiting Hitoshi knowing that regardless of the time he would be up and if he weren't he would wake up for me. I wanted to talk to him, but I also didn't want another weird almost lecture like he gave me the other day. It was hard to talk to people who knew me better than I knew myself sometimes because there was never any hiding. There wasn't anything that I could hide from Hitoshi, even if I tried.

Just as I was about to move on the large doors of the dorm swung open, a very pissed Todoroki stepping out, being followed by an equally as pissed Momo Yaoyorozu. Without thinking I ducked behind the nearest bush and hid. Not meaning to spy on their conversation but also not wanting to look like a creep who snuck around other people's dorms at night.

"I honestly don't know why you are being like this Shoto. Just get over it and we can go back to how everything was." Yaoyorozu said in the distance.

"It was almost 2 years ago; I don't want to do anything with you. Even if I did want any form of relationship with you I definitely wouldn't want it to be like how it was back then." Todoroki replied.

Both of their voices distant, further enough away from the dorm so their classmates wouldn't hear but not close enough to me that I could hear all their conversation.

"That's a bit harsh. We should be together. Both of our fathers think it's a good idea."

"When have I ever given a fuck what my father thinks?"

"Shoto, don't be vulgar. You have been hanging out with Bakugo for too long. He has started to rub off on you."

"I don't want to have this conversation with you anymore Yaomomo, I've said what I had to say, it's you that keeps bringing it up. I won't be getting back together with you, I won't be sleeping with you anymore and I won't even consider it just because our stuck-up scum bag fathers think it's right!" Shoto yelled loudly, there was no doubt that everyone in the vicinity had heard.

Yaoyorozu stomped her foot and pouted, turning on her heels and walking away.

"Well, I still have your cashmere sweater! I'm keeping it!" She shouted over her shoulder.

"Yeah well I still have your virginity, so I guess you win some you lose some." Shoto said back, causing Momo to huff and walk back towards the large doors. I chuckled at his statement, this Shoto vastly different from 1st year Shoto, different again from the Shoto that was in your workshop earlier today.

Yaoyorozu didn't look back as she entered the dorm, leaving Shoto Todoroki standing in the moonlight, looking even more ethereal than usual. If it were even possible.

And me, standing in a bush looking like a creep.

#shoto todoroki #shoto x reader #mha x reader #sen kaibara #kaibara x reader #bnha #shoto smut #todoroki x reader #bnha fanfiction

[arctasy]

uncleinnit, what will he do?

summary: against their better judgement, tubbo and ranboo leave tommy to babysit michael for the day while they have a meeting with foolish about their new mansion. and as any reasonable person should know, tommy is not one to follow the rules.

(word count: 2,359)

read on ao3

—————————

“Come on Ranboo, we’re going to be late,” called Tubbo from the front door.

“One second,” he called back from the house’s attic. He turned back to the grouchy Tommy currently sulking in the corner of the room. “And remember to check his temperature periodically through the day. The house is usually warm but Michael gets cold very easily and I don’t want him coming down with a cold.”

“I still don’t understand why the fuck I have to be the one to babysit the kid,” grumbled Tommy.

“There are golden carrots in the downstairs cupboard for when he gets hungry,” continued Ranboo as though nothing had happened. “And be nice! Michael is friendly but can be very-”

“Jesus fuck, man, just get on to your meeting already,” interrupted Tommy. He pushed himself off the wall and pushed Ranboo to the trapdoor that led to the main room below. “It’s only a few hours, your stupid child is going to be fine.”

“Ranboooo,” called Tubbo once more, a sickeningly sweet lilt to his voice that said you better get down here right now before I kick your arse to L’manberg.

“Coming!” Ranboo lifted the trapdoor and stepped down onto the ladder. “Oh, and if I see a single scratch on Michael, I’m gonna kill you.”

“You fucking-” started Tommy, but the trapdoor swung shut and Ranboo descended down the ladder.

He groaned in frustration and slowly dragged a hand down his face. “These next few hours are gonna be literal dogshit. Who in their right mind would leave me with their child? And a fucking toddler at that.” He watched as the piglin in question clambered onto the windowsill and swung his legs, which dangled nearly a foot over the edge. “Guess it's just you and me, eh, Big Mike?”

Micheal looked up at him, blinked once, and looked back down, mesmerized by his swinging hooves. Tommy palmed himself in the face.

“You probably don’t even understand me, huh? Fucking wonderful.”

Tommy glanced around the room. It was fairly large for a toddler, furnished with a bed, coffee table, bookshelf, and various paintings. In the middle of the room lay a yellow rug, which Tommy thought was a questionable decor choice. Then again, he lived in a dirt hill, so he didn't really have a right to talk. His fingers brushed over the dusty books sitting on the bookshelf, whose pages looked like they’d never seen the light of day. He held his hand to his face, and wrinkled his nose at the gray dust that coated his fingertips.

“Not much to do here, big man, is there?” he asked Michael as he brushed off the dust on the front of his shirt, who continued to make no sign he heard the whiny teenager.

“I don’t even know why Tubbo chose me of all people. Last time I saw you, I threatened to kick you. I’m a fuckin’ safety hazard!”

Michael’s snout dipped the slightest bit.

“I wouldn’t actually kick you,” said Tommy hastily. “You’re just an annoying lil’ shit, you know?”

Michael’s head dipped even further.

“Come on, don’t give me that.” Tommy rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “Okay, fine, you aren’t that annoying. I just hate how the two of them don’t shut up about you. It’s all Michael this and Michael that. You don’t even do anything, you’re just sat there!”

Michael jumped down from the windowsill, and Tommy continued his one-sided conversation. “I know I’m mean to them sometimes, especially Ranboo. I actually don’t mind Ranboo that much, he’s fuckin’ cool actually, but he talks about you so much and its infuriating!”

Michael turned to walk to the other side of his room. One of his hooves caught on the rug in the center and he tripped, tiny hands braced out to catch his fall. Tommy was there in an instant, catching the small boy in his arms before he could hit the ground.

“Fuckin’ careful man, you could’ve hurt yourself.” He let out another string of curses, putting the boy down and crouching down to examine him for any injuries. Michael watched him in mild curiosity.

“You seem fine, but wow, you almost gave me a heart attack, big man.” He let out a nervous laugh. Michael reached up with a tiny hand and ruffled his hair, or at least tried to. Tommy’s laughter died in his throat.

Micheal smiled at him, and brought his hand back down to his side. He walked back over to the window while Tommy sat there in shock trying to comprehend the last few moments because that was the single cutest thing he’s ever seen holy fucking shit. Then he caught up with his thoughts and swore at himself because he was not about to go all soft. He was Tommy-fucking-Innit, and he had a reputation to uphold, damn it.

He walked over to Michael, who was looking out the window, hooves and snout resting against the glass. Tommy hesitantly reached out a hand and rested it on the toddler’s head. Michael leaned into his hand, and Tommy started rubbing the thin bristles. He made a sound that Tommy could only describe as “happy piglin noises.”

“Do you wish you could go outside?” asked Tommy several minutes later, as Michael continued to gaze longingly out the small window of the attic. The view outside was beautiful. The ground was coated in a thick blanket of snow, and beyond it lay a small dock and an endless glittering sea.

Michael nodded.

“Holy shit, you can understand me!” Tommy bounced on his heels in excitement. “But man, it must suck being holed up in here all the time.”

Micheal let out a noise that Tommy assumed was agreement. Suddenly, he turned around and climbed down the windowsill, using Tommy as a brace.

“Woah, woah, woah, where’re you going?”

He grabbed Tommy’s hand and dragged him across the room until they were standing in front of the trapdoor.

Tommy let out a nervous bark of laughter. “You wanna go outside?” Michael looked at him expectantly. “I don’t know, big man, isn’t it dangerous out there? Mobs n’ shit, y’know?”

Michael continued to stare. “And don’t you get cold easily? If you get sick or hurt those two will fuckin’ kill me, man.”

Michael pouted, which Tommy didn’t even think was possible for someone with a snout. And man, how was he supposed to refuse those puppy dog eyes now? (Well, one eye, technically.)

“Fine,” he groaned. “But if anything goes wrong, I’m blaming you, okay?”

Michael nodded, jumping up and down in excitement.

Tommy dug through Michael’s closet and pulled out an armful of clothes. Carefully, he bundled the toddler in several layers. As an afterthought, he added a small red cape he’d found hanging in the back. Better to be safe than sorry. (He would never admit that he wanted the two of them to match, as Tommy was currently wearing the thick red cape he wore back when he stayed in Techno’s base.)

After a bit of clever maneuvering and several moments where Tommy thought he had fucked up and accidentally killed the kid for sure, he finally managed to carry Michael down the ladder and onto the landing below, injury-free. The second he put him down, Michael raced to the door and threw it open, which Tommy had to admit was rather impressive for a two-foot tall toddler with hooves for hands.

“Wait up, bitch!” he yelled in exasperation, running after the hyper piglin. He found Michael sitting in a pile of snow, patting it softly and giggling as his hooves sunk into the sea of white.

In spite of himself, Tommy felt his face split into a grin and he thought his heart was going to melt.

“You like the snow, Big Mike?” He gathered some of it into a ball and handed it to the child, whose face stared in wonder. “That’s a snowball. You can throw them, like this.” Tommy created another snowball and demonstrated by throwing it at the front of Tubbo’s house. Revenge for leaving him to babysit his fucking toddler (he didn’t mind too much anymore, though he would never admit it).

“Your turn, buddy,” he said, turning his head back to Michael only to be met with a snowball to the face.

“WHY YOU LITTLE SHIT-” he yelled. He tackled Michael to the ground and rolled himself over so that Michael was now laying across his chest, Tommy’s back in the snow. He sat up and began to tickle the piglin, who let out a squeal of laughter and tried to squirm away.

“I should’ve known you'd try something like that,” he said, fighting to keep the smile off his face. “It’s something Tubbo would do; like father like son, eh?”

Michael finally managed to twist out of Tommy’s hold and ran a few steps- only to trip and faceplant into the snow. However, before Tommy could let out more than a shout of concern, he sprung back up, looking perfectly unharmed and extremely amused at the concern written across Tommy’s face.

Tommy sighed. “Quit giving me heart attacks kid, you’re gonna kill me,” he groaned, unable to keep the endearment out of his voice. “C’mon, let me show you what else you can do with snow.”

For the next half hour, the two of them worked tirelessly on a giant snowman. Tommy held up Michael so he could add the small sticks and pebbles to the topmost snowball in the vague arrangement of a face. He thought it looked suspiciously similar to Ranboo, but made no complaints, happy that the toddler was having fun. After Michael added the last touch, a wreath of leaves that resembled a crown, Tommy set him down, and the two of them admired their handiwork.

“Not bad, Big Mike,” he said, nodding his approval. At that exact moment, the snowman’s head decided to slip off onto the ground, landing in a pile of ice, sticks, and leaves. Tommy and Michael looked at each other for several seconds, then simultaneously burst out laughing.

“I’ve always wanted to knock down Ranboo’s head like that,” he joked. Michael playfully slapped his leg.

“Wanna explore the rest of Snowchester?” asked Tommy. Micheal nodded eagerly. He scooped up the boy in his arms and started making his way across the ice. “We can’t go too far because your dads might see us, and we need to be back home soon,” Tommy informed him, “but I think we can go to the dock. Let’s fuckin’ go!”

Before long they were standing on the wooden planks, staring out at the sea. Tommy sat on the edge and held Michael in his lap, hands wrapped securely around his waist so he didn’t fall into the freezing water below.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” he asked the toddler. The sea stretched in an endless expanse before them, glittering as it reflected the rays of the afternoon sun. Chunks of ice floated in the water, dotting the scene like sparse freckles. The occasional breeze blew across the water, creating tiny ripples and waves in the sea’s texture. It was truly a sight to behold.

The two of them stayed like that for a long time, admiring the scene that Michael had up until then only viewed from his bedroom window. It was definitely much better in person, and Tommy vowed to himself that he would take Michael out here much more often, Tubbo and Ranboo’s rules be damned.

Tommy could never get tired of watching the sunset. His eyes refused to leave the horizon as the sun inched closer and closer to the sea. With a start, he realized that over an hour had passed, and his two friends were due to be home any moment.

“Shit, shit, fuck,” he mumbled to himself. He set Micheal down beside him and got up, stretching. Michael let out a whine of protest. “I know, I know, I don’t want to go back either, big man, but your parents are gonna fuckin’ kill me.” He lifted Micheal into his arms, who rested his head on Tommy’s shoulder. “See? You’re getting sleepy. Even more of a reason to go back.”

Michael yawned in reply, and Tommy's heart melted for the hundredth time that day. He slowly made his way back to Tubbo’s house, careful not to jostle the drowsy toddler too much.

Getting Michael through the door and back up the ladder was a challenge in it of itself, but finally they were back in Michael’s room. Tommy helped Michael out of his extra layers and dried him off with a towel. Before long, it looked like nothing had ever happened, and Tommy grinned in satisfaction at his superior babysitting skills.

“Here’s a golden carrot for being a fuckin’ excellent partner in crime,” he told Michael, handing him one from his personal stash. Michael giggled in delight.

Tommy crawled into Michel’s bed and lifted the toddler on top of him. “Time for bed, kid,” he whispered. Michael finished up the last of his carrot, then curled into Tommy’s sweater. His eye drifted shut, and soon he was fast asleep, light snores filling the quiet room.

That scene was how Tubbo and Ranboo were greeted upon returning home: Tommy holding Michael gently, the two of them curled up against each other and knocked out cold.

“I can’t believe that actually worked,” whispered Ranboo in amazement. “I thought for sure I’d come back to the house on fire or something.”

“Tommy can be very competent when he wants to be,” Tubbo informed him. The two of them cooed as Michael sneezed in his sleep, then curled deeper into Tommy’s chest. “Anyways, now I have blackmail material.” He took a picture of his sleeping son and best friend and smiled in glee. “Oh, Tommy is gonna be pissed.”

However, to Tubbo’s surprise, Tommy’s only reaction to the photo the next day was a request for Tubbo to send him a copy, and an assurance that he could count on him the next time he needed someone to babysit Michael.

Huh.

#dsmp fic #mcyt #dream smp #tommyinnit #dsmp michael #michael the piglin #tubbo #ranboo #dsmp #/rp #the world didn't have enough uncleinnit so i delivered #this is 2.3k words of tooth-rotting fluff #also i took like 5 hours on this so please rb hahaha #enjoy #nes writes #og post

[mianavs]

meeting an assassin

Illumi x f!reader x Hisoka (ish)

part 3 of Cathexis

a/n: and it’s all coming together~ still very much an Illumi x reader but Hisoka will play an important role moving forward

wc: 3k

The purpose behind meeting Hisoka took over your mind as the elevator descended the many floors of Heaven’s Arena and, by the time the bell rang indicating your arrival, all your apprehension had been replaced with determination.

Cathexis

“Wait for me!”

A hand swung out and stopped the elevator doors just in time for you to slip in. You thanked the person before leaning against the opposite wall looking down at your appearance. After mulling over what to wear, you went with the only dress you owned; a black dress that your mother had gifted to you for family reunions.

“Hah...”

You hated to admit it but you were nervous for your meeting with Hisoka—your dress and heels a clear indicator. You weren’t sure how it would go but you prepared for the worst by looking your best; you even threw on some makeup for good measure. The purpose behind meeting Hisoka took over your mind as the elevator descended the many floors of Heaven’s Arena and, by the time the bell rang indicating your arrival, all your apprehension had been replaced with determination.

Stepping out of the elevator and into the noisy lobby, you searched the crowd for the familiar mop of pink hair when you sensed an unnerving presence near you. Swinging around, you caught the person’s arm in a tight grip only to realize it was your date for the night genuinely surprised by your aggressiveness.

“I-I’m sorry, Mr. Morow,” you apologized dropping his arm and taking a step back. “I didn’t mean that.”

Hisoka’s lips quirked into a smile that didn’t match his eyes and massaged his arm for effect. “A bit tense aren’t we, Y/N?”

Had Hisoka been the one that triggered your response? Or could it be?

No. He hadn’t been keeping tags on you and he was supposed to be on a mission

“Sorry, I have a hard time lowering my guard.”

You took the arm Hisoka offered you and the two of you exited the lobby into the bustling street. You took the moment to casually admire his appearance. He wore a burgundy suit paired with a lavender button down that might have looked ridiculous on any other man but fit him like a glove.

“You look lovely tonight, Y/N.”

You smiled at Hisoka as you made your way down the street to the nearby restaurant Hisoka had made a reservation at. “Thank you, I must admit you clean up well yourself.”

“Taking out a special girl like you requires at least this much.” You didn’t dwell on his words too much knowing better than to fall for a man’s flattery. You merely widened your eyes and looked away feigning naiveté. You felt his eyes on you and could almost see the smirk that adorned his face.

The restaurant, sure enough, was upscale and was full of well-dressed people that were no doubt influential as well. You were used to dining in such establishments to find jobs but being here for a completely different purpose stripped you of your usual relaxed and indifferent demeanor. Instead, you pieced together a cheerful naïve façade that you hoped would convince your date.

“I apologize if I’m a bit boring, Mr. Morow, but I’m not used to dining with people I’ve just met.”

“Hisoka. Call me Hisoka, Y/N.” You plastered on a shy smile and widened your eyes purposefully before quietly trying his name on your tongue. “Very well…Hisoka.”

Your drinks arrived shortly after that and the two of you gave your orders to the waiter who penned them down and walked away leaving you alone once again. Taking a sip of your red wine for courage, you debated in which way to steer the conversation in your favor but Hisoka spoke first.

“Are you an assassin?”

You laughed. Not because you found his comment amusing but because you needed to mask your shock. Your gaping mouth and your trembling shoulders that had been your gut reaction were beyond your control in that moment but you hoped that the breathy laugh masked them sufficiently.

Had he figured you out?

“Oh no, I could never be an assassin,” you admitted lightheartedly. “I’ve actually been a pro hunter for six years now. A jackpot hunter to be exact.” You didn’t fail to notice the gleam in Hisoka’s eyes when you uttered the word hunter.

“Mmm a pro-hunter…you must have gotten licensed at a young age. You don’t look a day over twenty.”

“How did you know? I just turned nineteen a couple weeks ago.” You took another sip of wine to mask the grimace on your face. The conversation was far too focused on you for your liking but keeping the magician talking was the only way you would wear him down and turn the tides on him.

“A hunter at thirteen? No wonder you’re so strong.” You indulged him further with the backstory of your family of hunters and your desire to make as much money as possible to help your parents.

“And that’s why I’m here at Heaven’s Arena,” you stated. “I may be in between jobs but I still need to make money.”

“Yes, Heaven’s Arena is perfect for that and what better way to make money than to have fun doing it.” He was surprisingly genuine as he spoke and you pressed the subject further hoping it would lead to the topic you wanted.

“What are you doing at here?” You asked innocently but clutched your skirt underneath the table in anticipation.

“The same as you,” he replied measuring his words. “Making money on the side while doing what I like the most.”

“And that is?” You asked despite already knowing the answer from investigating him beforehand. Hisoka’s mouth contorted into an unsettling smile that created a heavy pit in your stomach.

“Fighting the strongest people I encounter.” His lilting voice went down an octave as he eyed you with lascivious intent. Your mind and body’s opposing reactions to his aroused state terrified you. While your mind assured you of the danger Hisoka represented, a strange warm wave washed away the discomforting pit in your stomach and your traitorous body wanted more.

“I can’t say I disagree,” you responded while ignoring your inner turmoil. “There’s nothing more exciting than being challenged. I guess that’s why I enjoy being a hunter; I get to meet all sorts of strong people while also making money.”

With your food arriving, the conversation was placed on hold and the two of you began to eat.

“Say Hisoka,” You broke the silence after swallowing a mouthful of baked fish. “Are you an assassin?”

Hisoka looked surprised for the second time that night before smiling slightly and shaking his head no. You had assumed he was one from the get-go since you couldn’t find anything about his profession but hearing him deny it only increased your curiosity on how he had gotten acquainted with Illumi.

“Oh, well I figured since you brought up assassins,” you admitted. “Also, from what I’ve seen you’re a strong and skilled nen user.”

“I couldn’t be one either. I dislike being tied down to any organization and, from what I’ve heard, the jobs are far too easy and dull.”

“Are you well-acquainted with assassins?” The question that had been dancing on your tongue finally escaped and you had to pinch your thigh to lessen your restlessness with the dull sting.

“Only one and that’s the other reason I’m here,” Hisoka informed you and his eyes narrowed with amusement. “To meet my assassin acquaintance.”

You froze even before Hisoka’s words registered because you felt that familiar itch that made your skin crawl only this time you were certain. Illumi was already in the restaurant and was making his way towards your table.

“Ah~ I hope you don’t mind but I told him where I was and he just arrived.” Hisoka said it like an afterthought as he waved to the man behind you while you forgot how to breathe altogether.

While you knew you would have to face Illumi one day, you were so sure it would be on your terms and yet here you were on an appointment with your bait while the fish approached you like nothing until he stood directly behind you. You suffocated from the tension that radiated off Illumi as he stared holes into your back. Hisoka stood up to greet Illumi and you, in an attempt to act normally, stood up as well but did so too fast that you lost your footing and found yourself tumbling forward only to be caught by a pair of strong pale arms.

You drowned in Illumi’s pools of black as he held you in his arms. His eyes were as wide as saucers as he took in the woman he had been following for years. Judging by his reaction, you could tell he hadn’t expected running into you which meant he had just finished his job and hadn’t tracked you yet.

The sound of Hisoka clearing his throat snapped the daze Illumi and you were in and he gently helped you to your feet. You steadied yourself with Illumi’s arm before settling into your seat and plastering a look on your face that you hoped came across as sheepish instead of terrified.

“I guess it’s been too long since I last wore heels,” you chuckled before facing Illumi who took a seat next to Hisoka. “Thank you for your help.” You dug the heel of your shoe into your calf to snap out of your shocked state with the pain.

Illumi merely regarded you with an unreadable expression before calling over your waiter and ordering his meal. Turning your attention to the magician next to him, Hisoka seemed to be enjoying the interaction between you and his friend. He smirked at Illumi before taking a sip of wine and meeting your scrutinizing gaze.

“You should have told me we would be having company.”

“Yes, you should have,” Illumi interjected turning to face his acquaintance. Hisoka, seeing the two gang up on him, threw his hands up in defeat. “What can I say, I forgot you were arriving today. I was completely distracted by Miss L/N’s beauty and strength.”

You remained silent observing Illumi whose face was emotionless but his jaw was tensed in a way that could only be interpreted to be due to agitation. It seemed that Illumi wasn’t fond of Hisoka’s attentions towards you and it only fueled your desire to agitate him even more.

“You flatter me, Hisoka,” you replied with a little laugh before engaging Illumi. “Is he always so friendly, Mr.…oh, I’m sorry but I don’t believe I caught your name.”

“Illumi Zoldyck,” was his expressionless reply and you hid your surprise at Illumi using his full name despite you supposedly being a complete stranger. You took the confidence in which he confided his name as proof that he had no idea what you knew.

“F/N L/N. It’s a pleasure to meet you Mr. Zoldyck.” You held his gaze for a thrilling moment before continuing the conversation. “Hisoka mentioned you worked as an assassin?”

Illumi gave Hisoka a pointed look before turning his attention to the woman before him. “Yes alongside my whole family.”

“I may not be an assassin but I know what it’s like to be in the same field as your family. You see, my family has a long-standing tradition of being hunters.”

“Yes, I’ve heard of your family.” Illumi admitted startling you enough to choke on your wine. The two men regarded you curiously as you fought against the dread that ripped through your entire person and left you grasping at straws to recover your composure. “Y-you know my family?”

Illumi’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second before narrowing. “No, I only said I’ve heard of the L/N family of hunters.”

The blood drained from your face as Illumi studied you. You had misspoken and he was suspicious.

“Oh,” You replied playing it off and laughed hoping it didn’t sound too forced. “I’m afraid I can’t say the same of your family.”

“How interesting,” Hisoka chimed in. “Someone who’s never heard of the Zoldycks.”

“I’m just heeding my parent’s advice,” you informed the magician, saying too much in your nervous state.

“And that would be?” Illumi asked, the rare curiosity evident in his tone.

“To avoid getting involved with assassins.” You spoke honestly, remembering the warnings your parents gave you after every family reunion before parting ways. You wondered if they spoke from experience or if it was just something all parents did—tell their children to avoid dangerous people. Noticing the odd looks your company was shooting in your direction, you chuckled and donned your mask now that you felt more at ease.

“Although, I suppose it’s silly advice given the line of work I’m in,” you mused shaking your head before speaking again with a newfound boldness. “Our paths surely would have crossed eventually if they haven’t already before, right, Mr. Zoldyck?”

“…I suppose so, Miss L/N.”

Illumi eventually replied after a pause that was longer than normal. You zeroed in on the faint change in his demeanor. The slight tensing of his bare arm, his set jaw, and the twitching corners of his mouth. You couldn’t help the smirk that creeped onto your face as you took another bite of food. Satisfied, you turned your attention to Hisoka, who was quieter than you preferred, and complimented his choice of restaurant. The conversation then shifted to something more light-hearted between you and Hisoka while Illumi said very little if anything at all.

As the evening came to an end, the two men escorted you back to your floor. The energy in the long elevator ride shifted suddenly as a menacing aura attacked your senses. You were on edge instantly and glanced in the direction it came from only to find Hisoka’s bloodlust seeping out of him and directed at you. The sheer power of his murderous energy had you breaking out in cold sweat and you ripped your eyes away from him and focused on the increasing numbers that glowed on the black panel in front of you. An onslaught of negative thoughts took over as Hisoka’s bloodlust enveloped your body and tightened around your throat.

Would Hisoka attack you here?

Would Illumi join him? Had they fooled you into some sort of trap?

While you might have been able to escape Hisoka, you were no match for the two of them and things would surely end badly for you. As your mind raced for a possible solution to the worst-case scenario you were concocting, a firm voice broke through your thoughts and Hisoka’s threat.

“Hisoka.”

Illumi’s reprimanding voice echoed off the walls and cleansed you of the magician’s murderous intent until it reverted back to its owner who seemed more than pleased with himself. You relaxed your shoulders and shakily let out the breath you’d been holding. Before you could worry about the weakened state you’d shown, the elevator bell rang and the doors opened to reveal the floor of your suite.

After stepping out of the elevator, you turned to the duo eager to bid them farewell and put an end to the eventful evening. “Thanks for escorting me but I can see myself from here. Good—"

“Let’s keep in touch, Y/N.” Hisoka interrupted and held out his mobile phone to you.

Illumi’s head whipped towards Hisoka and the vexation on his face would be evident to any bystander let alone his only friend and the woman that had been investigating him for years. Seeing Illumi upset stoked the flames of your desire to get under his skin and you took Hisoka’s offer. While your eyes may have been focused on the screen of Hisoka’s phone, you felt Illumi’s anger rolling off him in malevolent waves and heard the pleased hums coming from Hisoka that only served to increase the former’s fury.

Handing Hisoka his phone back, you deftly avoided his reach that, most likely, intended to plant another not-so chaste kiss on the back of your hand and walked away without another glance back at the murderous magician and apathetic assassin.

Illumi and Hisoka sat at a lonely bar across the street from Heaven’s Arena whilst sipping on expensive liquor. After bottoming his drink, Hisoka decided to amuse himself by riling up his friend once more that night. Hisoka had been mildly aware of Illumi’s prey but he hadn’t expected to run into you nor had he expected you to be so — interesting.

“So, Y/N is the pet you check on constantly?”

“Was it a coincidence?” Illumi replied with another question. “You meeting her here.”

“It was.” Hisoka replied with a small sigh. “I guess this is what they mean by a fated encounter.”

Illumi tensed at the inclination of Hisoka’s words. He would have to put an end to it before Hisoka could sink his fangs further into what didn’t belong to him.

“Her fate is mine. I suggest you abandon any thought of claiming her.” Illumi’s monotonous voice was tense as he took a sip of his bourbon while Hisoka basked in the assassin’s out of character behavior. He had found an accessible weakness to the stoic assassin and Hisoka had no intention of letting it go.

“Oh…how?” Hisoka asked mirthfully. Illumi set his glass down and turned to face his acquaintance.

“She is my betrothed. Our families arranged it when she was an infant although it seems that she isn’t aware.”

Hisoka absorbed the information Illumi told him regarding the arrangement between their families. How the L/N’s had been indebted to the Zoldycks for a job that had been too expensive to pay at once. The Zoldycks decided to take their daughter as repayment. Hisoka found the whole affair fascinating but what piqued his interest was the fact that you didn’t know anything about the betrothal or the Zoldycks for that matter. Hisoka found himself wanting to know why the L/N’s hadn’t told their daughter she’d been sold to the Zoldycks and even further, wanted to know how you would react to the revelation. He could already imagine the fury, confusion, and dejection on your pretty face and the aura of your nen increasing from the rage. The vision served to arouse him and he couldn’t help but hum in pleasure.

“I won’t tell you to stay away from her because I know you won’t, but it would be in your best interest not to tell her of the engagement. She isn’t ready for it.” Illumi was firm and Hisoka knew better than to outright challenge him, but the wonderful reaction he would get from you captured his mind and convinced him. He would tell you and he would tell you soon.

#hxh #illumi #illumi zoldyck #hisoka #hisoka morow #illumi x reader #hisoka x reader #hxh x reader #hxh fanfic #illumi x you #hisoka x you #illumi fanfic #slow burn #ongoing fic #navs.hxh #navs.cathexis

[mymelodyheart]

Miles Between Us Chapter 13 ~The Reunion~

WARNING: VERY EXPLICIT SEXUAL CONTENT

Previously in Obstacle Course ...

"Claire Elizabeth Beauchamp! Don't ye dare leave me!" He shouted. "We love each other, remember? I was a prick for leaving ye on yer own when ye came to Scotland to be with me. I promise ye this will never happen again. And whatever problem we have together, we can fix this. Ye understand me?" He fell on his knees, grateful for the pain shooting up his thighs because his heart was breaking into thousand pieces. "I ken I could be a selfless arse, but I'm working on being a better person for ye ...for us. I love ye with all my heart, Sassenach, and I cannae imagine life without ye."

"What do I need to do to make ye, believe me, Sassenach? Ye ken, I'll do anything to prove to ye how much I love ye. Does he ken the things I do? Like ...like what song makes ye smile? I can sing it for ye if that's what it would take." When the silence lingered, Jamie puffed out a silent curse. "Christ ... I'll do it. I'll sing that damn song. Just so ye ken, I meant every word I said." 

Then he stood up from his kneeling position and gave Rick Astley a run for his money. 

If you wish to read this on AO3, here is the link.

If you wish to read this from the beginning:

AO3 link

Tumblr link

  The full moon illuminated Jamie's and Claire's path as they made their way to the cottage into the cold night. It seemed they were the only two people in the world, walking in comfortable silence, lost in their own respective thoughts, and the only sounds to be heard were their footfalls and the dance of the trees. Inhaling deeply, Jamie pulled Claire into the warmth of his body, gently kissing the crown of her head, and in turn, her arm slid familiarly under his jacket to settle around his waist. For the first time in five days, every cell in his body was alive and buzzing, and it felt amazing to hold and have her close again.

Earlier, after the excitement and stramash outside Christie's apartment building had settled, they'd gone back in search of Quentin. It hadn't taken them long to spot him where he'd leaned on the wall outside the pub working his phone, most probably trying to call Claire. Though Quentin had looked like he could go for a few more round of drinks, to his relief, he hadn't put up much of an argument when Claire had firmly suggested it was time to call it a day. They'd escorted him back to his lodgings, making sure he had everything before heading for home.

It had been a surreal day, and Jamie knew it was far from over. He'd sensed Claire wanted to talk, and who could blame her? They had a lot of things to discuss, but his depraved mind had other ideas. His alcohol-fueled bravado from earlier had long waned to be replaced with an urgency that pulsed heat below his belly. But he swiftly reminded himself to be an attentive boyfriend first and clear the air between them. 

After what he'd put himself and Claire through the last few days, he was done being a prisoner of the past and mistrusting the future. Here, at this moment with her, he was whole, and just having her beside him was healing invisible wounds all over his body. He needed her, but her needs came first even though her sweet scent and the sound of her soft sighs were piercing holes in his self-restraint. At nearly midnight, the air was icy cold, and yet, there was a fine layer of perspiration on his skin brought about by the anticipation of being finally alone with her.

When they eventually reached the cottage, Jamie had a hard time giving up her body's warmth to retrieve his keys, so he turned her to face him and locked her in an embrace. Savouring the feel of her, he wondered how the hell he'd managed to keep his distance; moreover, allow her to go to Inverness with Tom. 

"Home sweet home," Claire murmured, breaking his thoughts. She made a move to pull away, but he grabbed her hand and pressed his lips to her icy fingers instead. "I think I need a drink," she said, shivering, "It's been quite an eventful night, don't you think?"

Jamie shook himself and nodded. "Aye. It's been a riot." He finally let go of her, quickly fishing for his keys in his pocket and unlocking the door, letting her pass first. They were welcomed by two happy, hyper animals who circumvented him to get to Claire. Ah, wee traitors!

He shut the door and watched with amusement as Claire immediately fell on her knees, her arm going around Rollo's neck while her free hand scratched Adso's back ear. Jamie grinned when both nudged closer and let out chesty whimpering sounds as they were treated to Claire's lovefest.

His eyes landed on her unpacked bags on the floor. She must have left the cottage as soon as she'd arrived. "How'd ye know where to find me earlier? Ye never called," he remarked, divesting his jacket and dropping it onto the chair.

She looked up at him and smiled. "I didn't. When Tom dropped me here, I realised I forgot to hand in some documents for Mary. I kind of figured you might be out with uncle Lamb. So I thought before calling you I'd walk over to Tom's to drop the papers for Mary and well, ..." she shrugged, her eyes twinkling. "I was about to phone you, and who did I find outside Tom's apartment building? My boyfriend serenading Mary Hawkins, no less."

Almost completely sober by now, his head dropped to hide his embarrassment, his pained groan barely subdued in his throat at the reminder of the recent event. "Oh, Christ!"

She stood up, walked over to him and encircled her arms around his neck, forcing him to glance at her smiling face. "I thought you were adorable." She kissed his chin. "And I think Mary was chuffed to bits hearing your love declarations. She'll never leave the Highlands now, what with Tom as her new love interest and you serenading her in front of an audience. She probably thinks she's heaven's gift to Broch Mordha and vice versa." 

Her fingers playing with the hair at the nape of his neck made it difficult to concentrate on what she was saying. "Ye should be righteously pissed at me for thinking ye were with Tom. And even if ye were in his apartment, I shouldnae have jumped to conclusions."

She contemplated his words. "We all get our jealous moments," she said quietly. "Well, I certainly do ...at least."

"Ye? Jealous? I only have eyes for ye, Sassenach. Ye have nothing to be jealous about." Then the image of Geneva's kiss came to mind, and his throat tightened. With everything that had happened today, he'd already forgotten about it ...until now. He knew only too well how the truth had its way of coming out, and he couldn't just dismiss it as an afterthought even though it didn't mean a thing. He needed to tell her before she finds out from someone else.

"Geneva," she whispered as if reading his mind. "I heard ..."

"Ye heard what?" She's already heard about the kiss? There was no stopping the weight of dread from settling in his belly. "Whatever stories ye heard about her and me, there's a perfect explanation for it, Sassenach. I can assure ye."

She didn't seem to notice his sudden discomfort nor heard the words he'd just said, her gaze too busy following the movements of her hands as they travelled down to his shoulders and over his chest. "While you were in Lallybroch, Willie came to check up on me once in a while to see how I was fairing. I thought it was rather sweet of him to do that." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, he mentioned something about Geneva fancying you, and that didn't sit well because I know she's your therapist, and Jenny preferred her for you." Her eyes suddenly dimmed. "Oh, God! Why am I even telling you this? It's so primary school."

"Sassenach ..." He brushed his lips to her forehead. "It's not ..."

She visibly shook herself. "No, let me finish. I know it's silly, but I couldn't help feeling the way I did. It was torturous knowing you were suffering, and I could do nought about it. I feared that night when you left, I may have made things worse by pushing you to talk about the past." True to her words, her expression was troubled as she chewed her bottom lip. "You see ...I want to be the one who can make things better for you, but I also recognise there are things about your condition that are beyond my understanding no matter how much I try to help or learn about it." She took a deep breath. "Geneva's your therapist, and she knows what she's doing. Sooo ...I have to put aside my petty jealousy and let Geneva do her work. But it doesn't mean I have to like her or the whole situation. So for the sake of ..."

"No, Sassenach. Stop right there." He dropped his mouth to prevent her from saying more, punctuating his words with a kiss. Their breaths collided, his fingers gripping her shoulders hard and digging into her skin. "Ye have every right not to like the situation. Because I dinnnae like it either." He searched her face, but her eyelids were at half-mast, and her gaze seemingly focused on his lips. He tipped her chin up. "I willnae be returning to therapy. So ye dinnae have to worry about her."

Her eyes widened in surprise. "Wot? But why?" She stopped and looked at him suspiciously. "Wait. If this is your way of making me stop seeing Tom, sorry mate, not going to happen. This is work. And I'm not stopping you from going to therapy just because it's Geneva either."

"Woman, will ye let me finish?" He took a few cleansing breaths. "I'll wager ye a pound to a penny that ye willnae allow me to attend the therapy when ye hear what she did." 

She arched an eyebrow at him. "Why? What did she do?"

"She kissed me."

She stiffened and took a step back. "Wot?" Her expression of softness she had just moments ago made way for disbelief. 

He tried to rid the sudden tangle in his throat. "She stopped by today. She said something about wanting to talk about my progress. I told her I was busy. Then she threw herself at me and kissed me. It's nae biggie." 

"Nae biggie?!" Her eyes flashed, and her mouth open and closed. And then opened again. "Where did she kiss you? Lips or cheek?" 

Her question caught him like a surprise right hook. On any other occasion, he would have probably been amused with her display of jealousy, but the way she was looking at him now, was causing his heart to pound painfully against his ribs. "O-on the lips, but I ...ah ...immediately pushed her away. I swear to God, I did nothing to inspire it." 

She rolled her head as if preparing for a fight, and when her eyes landed on the bottle of tequila he and her uncle had been drinking earlier, she made a beeline for it. "On the lips, huh? Did you like it?" She poured herself a healthy measure in one of the used glasses without offering him one and downed it in one go.

Christ! "No!" 

"Any tongue involved?"

"Of course not!"

"You sure?" She slammed the glass down on the table, making him flinch.

What the bloody hell? The questions she was throwing at him was making him squirm on his feet, and for the first time, Jamie realised how similar Claire and Quentin were when trying to extract an answer. Both would undoubtedly make great interrogators if ever they'd decided on a career change. "What kind of question is that? The kiss happened so fast, taking me by surprise. I didnae have time to think. She might have tried to put her tongue down my throat, but I stopped her."

"And where did this happen?"

"What do ye mean? I already told ye she stopped by. I was here ...at home." 

"I mean, did it happen inside or outside the cottage?" 

Jesus! "Outside." 

"Outside," she repeated, more to herself. 

"Aye, outside. She wanted to come in, but I told her I had things to do and was expecting a visitor ...yer uncle, that is. Anyway, that aside, I didnae think it was a good idea to allow her to come inside, knowing that she's my therapist and fancied her chances with me."

"Hmmm ...so when she threw herself at you, you pushed her away, is that right?" 

"Aye." 

"Where did her hands go?" 

Confusion seeped into his already muddled head. Is this some kind of trick question to catch me of any wrongdoing? "What do ye mean?" 

"Geneva's hands. Did it go around your waist, neck or what?" 

"Oh, um ...around my neck." 

"And what about your hands?" 

Huh? "What about them?"

"Where were your hands when she kissed you?"

"They were by my side. The only time I touched her was to push her away from me. Ask yer uncle. He saw the whole thing. I didnae even know he was there." 

"And he didn't sock you?"

"Why would he?" he almost shouted. "I didnae do a thing. It was Geneva who initiated it!"

"Fine."

"Fine?" he gasped in confusion.

She didn't answer. Instead, she turned around and took off her jacket. That's it? What the hell just happened? I gave her the truth, and that's supposed to be good, right? Or am I missing something? He followed her strained movement, and he helplessly watched her grabbed her laptop bag and rummaged through it, the silence pulsing around them bordering on awkwardness. This was definitely not how he'd envisioned their reunion, he thought miserably. 

"Sassenach," he began, choosing his words carefully. "I can tell ye're upset about the kiss. Ye ken ye've no reason to be, aye?"

She shook her head, refusing to look at him. "No," she agreed, relief washing over him. "I've no reason to." She pulled out sheets of paper from her bag, looked at them and haphazardly stuffed them back in again, seemingly going through the motion of keeping her hands busy. 

"Then why are ye cranky all of a sudden?"

She let go of her bag and grabbed the bottle of tequila, sloshing over the rim of the glass as she poured another shot. "I'm not." She grimaced as she threw back the liquid.

"Ye are." When she poured another drink, he frowned at her. "Go easy on that tequila, Sassenach."

Her head spun halfway round in his direction, reminding him of that wee girl in the film, The Exorcist. Her mouth dropped open, and she glared at him.

He forced himself to remain patient. Claire was visibly upset about something, and now he wasn't sure anymore if it had to do with Geneva's kiss. "Sometimes, I associate alcohol with bad judgments and choices," he began calmly. "My own, especially. But ye've helped me make a lot of good ones in the past, and ...I just want to do the same for ye. Talk to me, Sassenach. What's really bothering ye?"

She huffed and balled her fingers into tight fists. "Fine! Do you want to know the truth? I want to start a fight."

"A fight?" He reined in his frustration of not being able to understand and took a step closer to her. "Why would ye wanna do that?"

A deep scarlet soared from her neck to her cheeks as she threw her hands in the air. "The last few days were trying, alright? It wasn't only you who was having a rough time with it. God, I've been worried sick about you. I've been trying to keep it together ever since you left, wondering if I'll ever get to see you before I return to London. And then ...and then," she hiccupped, her hand flying to her mouth to stifle a sob. "One bloody thing led to another. First, I got into a fight with your sister because of some stupid newspaper clipping she had in her possession. Then, not long after that, in the middle of what was supposed to be an important meeting with Tom, my boss dumps the responsibility of babysitting Mary onto my lap, and I had no idea how I was going to manage that with my uncle on his way. Then I got to Inverness, hoping to get at least some work done with Mary to finish her book so I could finally leave London for good and start a new life here with you. And you know what?" 

Jamie stood immobile. He longed to soothe her, but he wasn't sure if she wanted to be touched yet, so he waited even though he was slowly dying inside to hold her in his arms.

Her inhale became stuttered, and her eyes darkened with defeat. "I was grasping at straws to keep Mary to sit still long enough to extract a measly one thousand seven hundred words worth of work when I know she could do more in a day. But that's all I got for my efforts because she was too busy galavanting in Inverness with Tom. And speaking of Tom, I still haven't managed to make him sign the contract for his book and when my boss asked me why I couldn't even give him an answer and gave him some lame excuse. The only good thing that came out of Tom is, he convinced Mary to come here. If Tom hadn't been with me, I'd still be in Inverness with Mary. And now ...now I find out Geneva tried to kiss you while I was away. God, I want to scratch her eyes out. But I can't do that, can I? Because she isn't here. So I asked you those dumb questions to find a fault and start a fight because I wanted to vent after the last few days I've had. But even that, I can't do because you've done nothing wrong." She let out a groan of exasperation. "How sad is that?"

Suddenly, it all made sense to Jamie. Claire always put others' needs before hers with no thought for herself. He had to take better care of her. It had been easy to rest all his hopes and fears on her shoulders, and because of it, she was a massive part of his motivation to want more out of his future and be a better man for them. But if they were going to be together, his condition shouldn't always be her fight, and her burdens should be lighter with him by her side and not more. This lass had given him hope, and he's not going to rest until he gave her the same. Until she, too, knew her needs were just as important as everyone else's.

The boyfriend in him wanted to wipe the look of upset in her eyes. Confront the people that pushed her to act out in a way so unlike her usual self. Demand answers to find out what else was troubling her. He sensed, however, that questioning was the last thing she needed. So doing his best to be the protector this time, he opened his arms, relieved when she quietly walked into them. She laid her head on his chest, wrapping her arms around his waist, and he held her, resting his chin on her crown.

After a few minutes of silence, she spoke haltingly. "I'm so sorry, Jamie. I didn't mean to pick a fight. It's just that ...." Her fingers tugged at the edge of his jeans, and he shut his eyes. He could hear the slight slur in her words, making him realise she'd drank tequila on an empty stomach. "The last few days have been mad, and I -I ...oh, hell, never mind. I'm just acting pathetic."

Jamie frowned against her head. "Sassenach, look at me." He drew slightly away and held the sides of her face in her hands, the unshed tears in her eyes crushing him to the core of his being. "First of all, ye have nothing to be sorry about. If anything, Tom, Mary, yer boss, my sister, including myself, owe ye an apology. And ye're no' pathetic and dinnae ever say that about yersel', ever again. Ye do far too much for others, including me, and it's about time ye did something for ye. The rest of the world can wait, and other people getting their act together is no' yer responsibility."

She blew out a breath, bright amber eyes holding his steady.

"As for Geneva, ye have nothing to worry about her. There was never anything between us. I'll talk to my sister and let her know what her friend has done. If Jenny refuses to do anything about it, I will make a formal complaint about Geneva's behaviour to the clinic's head myself. And perhaps, propose a new or my old therapist be reinstated."

"Jamie, I can't be responsible ..." 

"Ssshh, Sassenach. Ye're no' responsible for Geneva. She overstepped the boundaries, so it's only right she takes responsibility for her own actions." He pressed their foreheads together and looked her in the eyes. "I chose to be with ye as ye did with me, and I cannae have anyone disrespecting that, no' even Jenny. We're together, and we're supposed to be stronger as a unit. I need to step up my game and be there for ye as ye've been for me. For so long, I was so fixated on my own condition, I ceased seeing other people's difficulties." He pulled back and caressed her cheek with his thumb. "Then I met ye, my feisty wee, Sassenach ...for the second time as a grown-up ...and ye taught me all about selflessness and courage. I want ye to know ye're important ...more important than what I want or what Mary Hawkins wants or what yer boss wants. And the things that hurt ye, they're no less painful than what I go through. Things are gonnae change from now on, and it can't be just all about me. I'm so sorry for abandoning ye and for not being there when ye needed me most."

The worst of the troubled look in her expression faded and was replaced by a wobbly smile. "There's nothing to forgive. We were both trying our best to deal with circumstances that were beyond our control."

He smoothed her hair back, picking up the locks and twining his fingers through them. "No, ye were doing all the heavy lifting. Every moment ye spent with me was a trial of fortitude ye were too stubborn not to meet. It would have been easy for ye to give up on me, but ye didnae. Ye always thought I was enough despite my shortcomings. Ye taught me second chances, and because of that, I dinnae want to believe anymore I deserve no' to have ye." He took a deep breath. "I thought my realisation came too late when I thought ye were with Tom, and I was willing to go at any lengths to win ye back and make ye see what we have is worth fighting for. After what I did out there tonight, I ken I'll be teased for the rest of my life for singing like a fool at the village square, but it's all worth it because I get another chance with ye."

"Another chance with me? I never left you, Jamie. I may have been miffed and hurt, but I've always been yours." 

He shook his head, more at the error of his ways. "Deep down, I ken that but the mere thought of Tom with ye, all reason and logic seem to fly out the window. In the future, I promise to keep those thoughts at bay. It's no' good for my sanity." He smiled at her. "Shall we kiss and make up?"

Laughing, tears spilt from her eyes. "I thought you'd never ask."

The urgency that had been building up inside him went off like a gunshot. He drew her in closer. "Christ, I love you, Sassenach and always will." His mouth descended over hers, impressing his vow with a thorough tasting of her lips, savouring the earthy, semi-sweet taste of tequila on her tongue. His thumbs traced her cheekbones and jawline, and when she swayed closer, and the softness of her breasts flattened against his chest, he let out an animalistic groan.

His heart started to pound, every muscle south of his belt tightening. It was as though he'd been in a dry spell for five years instead of five days. His mouth went dry, his palms itched with the need to touch her naked skin, and his body was on fire as the pent-up desire from the past few days burst in a torrent of heat. He was ravenous for her taste and for her hand to encircle his hardness, and he indulged in her eager response that was opposite her usual shyness during lovemaking.

Restless fingers tangled into his hair, clasping his head in place as she kissed him back and met his demand with urgency. When her hips impatiently pressed against him, her scent invading his senses, his cock grew uncomfortably heavy.

He dragged his mouth from hers, twisting her hair in his fist. "Jesus, if ye dinnae take it down a notch, I'll burst in my pants like a schoolboy."

She blinked as if coming from a long sleep, her lips wet and puffy from his kisses and cheeks bright pink. She gave him a slow smile that promised unspoken pleasures, sending his heart up to his mouth. "Not my fault," she hummed, going up on her toes to teasingly brush her mouth over his. "You made me wait this long." Maintaining eye contact, she took a step back and stripped off her clothes, revealing her matching red bra and panty. "So enough talk, Jamie. I can't wait much more. I want you now," she whispered huskily.

Her words did it. His lust-filled brain only gave him a split second to process what she'd just said before the need to be inside her dismissed everything else. That urge he'd felt to make up for lost time raced out of control. He could only see Claire with her dazed eyes, parted lips and loads of naked skin.

He seized her hips, walking her backwards and crowding her against the dining table, pushing the chairs aside to make space. Her breath rose and fell in a choppy rhythm as his mouth dipped for a desperate kiss.

Her mouth moved in perfect unison with his, wee sounds vibrating up her throat, ending where their lips frantically worked together. Lust pumping in his veins, he roughly settled her sweet bottom on the table and gingerly hooked his fingers into the lacey band of her knickers, shoving it down her legs. When she began tugging at the waistband of his jeans, he groaned into her mouth, knowing she needed him just as bad.

"I planned to make slow love to ye tonight. But now I cannae ...because I cannae wait to have ye." His hand slipped between their bodies, and he palmed her between her thighs. Ah, sweet Jesus! Sliding a finger deep into the wet heat of her entrance, he tested and teased, revelling the way her fingernails dug onto the skin of his shoulders in response, his head spinning at the feel of her moistness. "Christ, ye look so needy, ye're giving me nae choice but to take ye right here ...like a wild beast."

"Oh, shoosh, Jamie. Quit talking about it now. You want it just as bad." She began to undo his belt buckle, nipping at his neck as she yanked and shoved. When he was finally freed, he nearly fainted at the relief of no longer being restrained to his jeans. The relief was fleeting, though, when her smooth hands encircled his throbbing cock, her tight grip moving up and down, twisting at the base, preparing him when the only thing he needed was to be inside her. Ah, Christ, but it feels so good. Far too good ...

He couldn't take it anymore. He knew he wouldn't last long. "Enough!" he gritted. 

She gave him a look like he'd just taken her favourite toy. She unhooked her bra in retaliation and pushed her breasts up like an offering. His breath caught in his throat, stunned by the vision, her eyes, a translucent gold gleaming with arousal, beckoning him to take his fill.

He parted her legs and fisted his cock before rubbing its tip at her entrance. "I've missed ye so much. I might not last long, but I want this to be good for ye," he whispered hoarsely. "I may be a bit rough," He dipped his head, forcing her back to arch like a bow as he bestowed kisses on her breasts. "Are ye alright with that?" 

She nodded, feeling her shudder with anticipation and need. 

"Is that what ye want?" 

"Yes," she whispered. "Take me however you want." 

He whipped off his top and lowered his hand to her buttock, coasting his palm over the firm, rounded flesh and squeezing it tight. "Wrap yer legs around me."

Claire's legs wrapped around his middle and her arms around his neck. Her thighs glid around his waist with such exquisite perfection that he had to bite the tender flesh on the side of her neck to stop from shouting. The friction of his cock sliding between her legs where he'd touched with his fingers was too much. Almost propelling him past his breaking point. Too impatient to take the time to savour, he gripped himself and pushed deep into her entrance.

Watching her teeth bite onto her bottom lip as if to stop a scream from escaping, he groaned out loud as he pushed inch by inch, his focus whittling down to Claire and the heat enveloping his cock. Everything ceased to exist. He pulled out slightly before thrusting again, their mutual moans resounding on the walls of the cottage.

He shifted closer, needing to feel and touch all of her as possible. Keeping their lips locked, he seized her hips and started to move to the ancient dance of mating. There were no words to express the rough, grinding pace of what he did to her. It only bloomed more intense when she began matching his moves, widening her thighs and rolling her hips like she couldn't get enough.

"Oh sweet Lord, ye feel too good," he muttered against her mouth, hips pounding furiously. "How did I stay away from this?" 

She gripped the back of his neck. "I missed this too," she gasped. "Please don't stop." 

"I'm not hurting ye, am I? Tell me if I'm too rough." 

"No ...no, don't be gentle. I need you to take me hard." 

A tide surged inside him, mounting and building like a storm. Jamie roughly raised her hips to reposition her, dragging her arse to the edge of the table, her sweet moans telling him she'd like that. Unable to think past how she wanted it harder, there was no easing down now. He could only yank her leg higher and demand she keep up, ramming into her rough and fast. Her sighs and breath came out like hot rushes of air, thighs squeezing around him and starting to tremble. When her internal walls clenched around his cock, it warned him of her imminent climax, making his balls drew up so tight they ached. He dragged her flush to his body and buried his face in her neck, grunting with every deep thrust and muttering her name while his own release clamoured in his belly. 

"Jamie!" she screamed, convulsing against him. He immediately silenced her cries with a deep kiss, but she flung her head back and squirmed, tightening up where their bodies joined, pulsing and throbbing. "Oh my God."

He couldn't wait any longer. Hooking his arms under her legs, he pumped his hardness in jerky hauls, faster and faster until his visions blurred. The whimpering noises she made launched him higher, signalling his own peak, and he soared towards it, his climax made more intense from the knowledge that it was Claire who got him there. He thrust into her one final time and thrust deep, growling her name into her hair and squashing her to his chest as he'd borne the full force of what they'd done.

"Oh, Christ, Sassenach." 

Her hands ran up and down his back as she continued to take huge gulps of air. He knew he was crushing her, but he wasn't ready to let go. He wanted to remain buried inside her, holding her like this. With her heels digging into his arse and her arms around his neck. They fitted perfectly, her softness cradling his boneless heap, making him hard as steel again. Some part of his brain must have still been functioning because he jerked and reached out for her bra to cover her when his doorbell rang. Christ! Forcing his body to move with marginal success, he yanked her up and pulled up his jeans.

Claire slid off the table and grabbed her clothes. "Who could that be?"

"That better not be yer uncle or ..." Jamie trailed off, muttering curses under his breath, annoyed at the disturbance as he was just revving up for part two of their lovemaking. When he opened the door, a sense of deja vu hit him when he saw Mrs Fitz standing there with what seemed like a plate of a lemon meringue pie. What the fuck?

"Mrs Fitz!"

The older woman didn't bother to hide her curiosity this time as her eyes tried to peer past his shoulders. "Heard ye have company, lad, and I havenae seen Miss Claire the last couple of days."

He was about to say "none of her business" when Claire came up behind him, dressed back in her jeans and top. "Mrs Fitz, how are you? Is everything alright?"

Jamie stepped back and observed how Mrs Fitz's eyes widened in pleasant surprise. He figured instantly, his neighbour must have seen that kiss from Geneva earlier and that she'd probably thought the worse of him after hearing Claire's passionate screams. Right there and then, he decided, this time, he definitely needed to soundproof his home from eavesdropping neighbours.

"Ach, I saw light in yer windows," Mrs Fitz beamed, ignoring Jamie's glare. "Ye see, I've made too many pies and thought ye might like one. I remember ye enjoying this when ye stayed with yer friend over at my place this past Christmas."

"Oh, how lovely," Claire gushed, taking the plate from Mrs Fitz. "Thank you so much. Just what Jamie and I need right now ..." She blushed profusely, contemplating her words. "...after a long day."

Mrs Fitz clapped her hands. "I thought that!" 

Seeing how thrilled Claire was looking at the desert, Jamie tamped down the urge to say something sarcastic and just scowled at her.

Mrs Fitz must have read his thoughts as this time it was her turn to crimson, a probable sign of her guilt for being nosey. Suddenly at a loss for words, she rubbed her palms at her sides. "Weel, ye both enjoy it. I must get going as it's rather late. Good night, both of ye." With that, she whirled around and disappeared into the night.

He shut the door and sighed, and followed Claire to the kitchen. 

"Lovely lady," Claire remarked, sniffing the pie before placing it on the counter.

He turned her around and kissed her slowly, groaning when she opened her mouth for him without hesitation. "Ye're lovelier," he said against her lips. "But I'm not done with ye yet."

She grinned. "Pie first?"

Realising he'd never be able to compete with Mrs Fitz's homemade pie, he laughed out loud. "Absolutely ...why not?"

Dear Readers,

Well, here you go, their reunion! I hope you've enjoyed this lust-filled chapter. I must admit, though, when I was editing the sex part, I deliberately drank Bloody Mary to lose a bit of inhibition and make the scene a bit grittier. I hope it worked, but if it's too dirty for you, I say tough! 😆 Just kidding!

Anyway, thank you for commenting and showing your appreciation for my writing and your well wishes. I don't always reply back but be assured, your feedback is very much appreciated and anticipated. 

And before I forget, it's not long now before this arc finishes. There will be an arc three, and I will let you know more on my next update.

Signing off now and wishing you a fabulous weekend. Stay safe and always take care! X

#melodyheart #wonderwall #milesbetweenus #claire beauchamp/jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #jamie fraser #outlanderfanfic

[neutron-stars-collision]

The Art of Inversion

Neil x Reader

Chapter 24 - If You Want Me... 

Masterlist; Chapter 23

Summary: Tension reaches its boiling point when you overhear an unfortunate conversation. With unexpected allies, you attempt to break the impasse once and for all.

Warnings: ANGST (still but... well you’ll see ;)); at few points R! is being a little dramatic which can be triggering if you’ve been dealing with intrusive thoughts (nothing too bad though); swearing.

Author’s Notes: Finally! It’s been a wild ride... and god am I happy i’ve managed. This part took a lot of effort but I quite like what I came up with... even if sometimes it gets too angsty. Can’t wait for what’s coming next, however... :)))) Hope you enjoy and all feedback is always appreciated! <3 

The shooting range on the icebreaker was a strange place. It occupied a large proportion of the deck floor in the accommodation part of the ship, next to the turnstile and sparring grounds. With darkness swallowing every corner that was not lit up by the blinking fluorescents, it was a perfect place to hide. Soon it became your go-to solace when things got difficult, and the only other idea you could come up with involved going outside without the oxygen mask attached. You did not want to go that far. Yet. Target practice became your favourite occupation. It was simple and did not involve talking to people that could give you worrying looks or comment on the dark circles underneath your eyes. Sleep was no longer a thing, with you catching three-hour-long naps at best, in between never-ending worrying and staring at the ceiling, reminiscing the past. The constant headaches were something you soldiered through, accepting them as a part of reality. The worst part of that new life was the fact that you and Neil stopped talking to each other altogether. Not even empty pleasantries could get through the stone-cold awkwardness and tension capable of killing you before the heartache would. After a day of near-misses and horrifying mistakes that culminated with you accidentally spilling boiling water all over the sweater when Neil entered the galley, you both mastered the art of hiding. You only saw him once afterwards, sitting at the table in the corner of the canteen. That was almost two days ago, and you were thankful.

Once you went through the assigned daily rounds, you moved onto the task of cleaning the guns and rifles. Polishing the metal cases and arranging the bullets was as close to therapy as it could get. With the repetitive action occupying your brain, there was no time to get emotional over things you could not change. Only at the shooting range, you did not feel so utterly hopeless. So terribly unloved. A sudden noise by the airlock made you look up. Conveniently the air in the range was sealed so that you need not to worry about oxygen masks during the target practice. It also meant you got approximately five seconds warning to check the identity of the intruder. This time you were surprised.

“Hi, Y/N. Thought I’d find you here” TP’s dark gaze slid over you cautiously.

Taking off the mask, he joined you at the makeshift table, looking at the arsenal you have spread over the surface. You eyed him with curiosity. That was unexpected. So far, he has never interacted with you outside of the meetings. And every time he did, you could not stop thinking about how much he knew. Who did he see when he looked at you?

“Afternoon” shaking off the reverie, you offered him a tight smile, “Is it afternoon?” glancing at the watch, you grimaced, “Oh,”

The last time you checked, it was 3 pm. The blue numbers on your wrist were mercilessly ticking away. 8:30 pm. How the fuck. TP caught your silent crisis as he asked:

“How long have you been down here?” looking up, you encountered a glimmer of worry in his eyes.

Interesting.

“Umm, five hours?” it felt like the best estimate.

It was probably longer. But he need not know that.

“Jesus,” wincing, he directed his taxing gaze back onto you, “When was the last time you had food?” tone strictly business.

The truth was that you did not remember. With everything falling apart and losing meaning, food became an afterthought. Half the time you would realise you only had one meal around 1 am, forcing you to tiptoe to the kitchen and grab something from the cupboard. A hungry stomach was nothing compared to all the other issues. It could be ignored.

“Breakfast. I’m not hungry though,” brushing off the concern you chose defiance, “Is this an interrogation?” you arched one eyebrow and cocked the gun you have wiped clean.

TP snorted at your comedic timing.

“No, I come here in peace” he raised his hands in defeat and added, “To see if you’re… alright” the hesitation made you scoff.

“You know that I’m not. Because things are generally far from alright,” letting annoyance slip into the sentence, you let go of the tools and met his gaze with coldness.

The deepening frown was concerning. You were being unfair. After all, it was not him who has caused all this pain. Remorse nipped at your heart as you sighed heavily.

“Sorry, that was unnecessary,” he accepted your apologetic smile with a nod, giving the courage to continue, “And I’m also sorry that you all have to witness that mess in the meetings. I’d rather it stayed between him and me... but he seems to disagree” you shrugged.

Sometimes you did wonder why Neil seemed so intent on making your arguments a public spectacle. Whether that was a part of the intricate plan to make you look like an idiot or a result of his emotions boiling over. Not that it mattered. Everyone on the team knew what the deal was anyway. A poor, naïve you, desperately in love with someone who could not care less. Nothing out of the ordinary. Judging by TP’s passing frown, for him too the topic was rather uncomfortable. He took a long moment to respond, looking for answers in the rows of bullets you have arranged on the table.

“Not going to lie, it’s awkward, but at least I know what’s going on, and I can offer to listen” he met your gaze with newly found determination.

Okay… Confiding in TP was quite low on the list of things you expected to have the opportunity of doing. But then so was having to convince Neil not to get himself killed for the sake of the operation. Anything goes.

“Aren’t you taking a side?” that suspicious voice in your head was difficult to get rid of, “Agreeing with him that I’m stupid, emotional, and overall a burden?” you recited the memorized litany of epithets with a stone-cold expression.

The words have lost their meanings after you have put them apart in the quiet of your mind. Now they were just sounds, incapable of inflicting pain. It was the least that could be done.

“He went too far with that” TP winced, his eyes expressing traces of disapproval, “I might not know you well, but you’re none of these things,” a sympathetic smile softening the tone.

An open hand. An olive branch. Why not? Taking a deep breath, you got ready to open up before the most unexpecting of allies.

“In a way, he was right though…” you looked down, trying to find the needed strength, “I am stupid because I have allowed myself to care too much for him” there it is, “And now I’m paying for it” when you met his eyes again, you found nothing but thoughtfulness.

It was something you thought about often as well. The fact that Neil was right, you did care, and that it was perhaps the reason for your demise. But who could blame you for falling for the bastard looking like the devil? And equally charming too.

“Maybe it’s a little too forward, but-” TP’s tentative tone made you grin.

In moments like this, you acutely remembered that he was still a rookie. Not used to the half-truths and strange tenets you accepted as your credo. His innocence was adorable even.

“In this profession, a it’s sometimes nice to say the truth. Shoot away” you waved your hand dismissively, anticipating the question.

There is a first time for everything.

“Fair point” he mirrored your smile before asking, “Do you love him?”

Plain and simple. Ignoring the panic, you took a moment to ponder the answer. It was… obvious. You told Neil as much twice before, and no amount of pretending and lies could ever undo it. The words were his. Just as you were. Unfortunately.

“I’d want to say no, that I got over it, but… Yes, I do,” you offered the answer with a helpless frown, “Think any idiot can see it” noticing a hint of embarrassment briefly you patted TP’s shoulder, “No matter how much he hurts me, I always find myself wishing things could be… like they once were”

Whatever that meant. In truth, you wanted more. You wanted to wake up next to him every morning. You wanted affirmations of love every day as you tasted his coffee-stained lips. You wanted to lie in his embrace, feeling desired and loved. But most of all, you wanted to be able to lace up your fingers with his, following the instincts that became your second nature. To card your fingers through his silky golden strands and to give him everything he would desire. You wanted to be his. He was supposed to be yours. Or was the universe wrong?

Thoughts of that kind could be lethal. Shaking yourself awake, you met TP’s eyes. Apart from the lack of surprise at your admission, you noticed something strange. A passing realization. As though he has heard something similar before but was afraid to speak up. Once again, you found yourself wondering what Neil told him. What did he mean by ‘things you and I should explain to each other’? For a moment, you wanted to jump head in and ask. But what good would knowing the truth be when you could not act on it? As though aware of your increasing dilemma, the man spoke up again.

“I’m sorry for Oslo” your eyes widened at the reminder.

“Why?” blurting out the question, you eyed him cautiously.

The deepening discomfort radiating off him confirmed your assumptions. That was it. He knew what nearly happened that night. And he was flustered about his role in it. That was not the conversation you ever expected to have.

“I can’t help but think that maybe if I hadn’t… interrupted you, it would’ve-” he stumbled over the sentence somewhat endearingly.

Perhaps it was the lack of care that made you say the next words. Or maybe just the fact that nothing mattered anymore, and so who could judge you for the purest form of honesty.

“Doubt it,” interrupting him with a sour smile, you added, “Maybe it’s good you knocked then… Least he doesn’t have absolutely everything” noticing the alarm painted on TP’s face, you blushed.

Yep, too far. Still true, however.

“I’m sorry, you didn’t have to know that much” you brushed off the sudden awkwardness with a sincere apology.

“I can pretend I’ve never heard it” it was his turn to give a reassuring shoulder squeeze.

You could feel the strange companionship forming. Sure you did not mind. Relaxing back in the chair, you spoke up:

“Thanks,” as TP also visibly reclined, you brought up the thought that was not letting go of your mind, “I don’t know how much he has told you about… this,” gesturing vaguely, you bit your lip.

Somehow you knew that he would not betray Neil by sharing with you everything that has been said. But even crumbs would do…

“Quite a bit,” you watched him closely, intrigued by the hesitation, “Enough for me to know that you’re someone I can trust and that he had reasons to be acting that happy in Tallinn before the action” oh.

That painful pang in your heart was heart to ignore. You winced, feeling the steady gaze fixed on your face. The analysis was mutual. Neil, happy, back in Tallinn. Because of you. You have lost too much.

“What do you mean?” treading carefully, you asked the safest of questions.

A small smile on his face showed you just how obvious you were. Lovesick idiot.

“Hours he has spent texting someone, phone calls he would pick up instantly and then come back grinning like a madman” TP offered you examples with a glimmer in his eyes “It only clicked when we were inverting, and I asked him about you” the blush on your cheeks deepened under his taxing gaze “Suddenly all of that made sense if you were in Estonia with us” he shrugged, finishing the thought.

Oh my god. While you experienced it all firsthand during those chaotic yet hopeful days in the safehouse when everything seemed to have infinite potential, hearing about it from someone else’s perspective felt strange. Almost like a slap in the face. Because it only confirmed what you knew – he once loved you. Once.

“Well, it seems like he has changed his mind…” you muttered, feeling the resentment settle in.

You wondered whether one day it would stop hurting. If you could ever get over this and find someone else. That darkest part of your brain knew the answer well enough. Nothing could come close. And nothing ever would.

“Or he’s just an idiot” the cheeriness felt forced.

But judging by the way TP was staring at you, you could tell it was his attempt at dispersing the sudden melancholy. It was strange to see him worried about you of all people. Perhaps your shit attempts at diverting everyone’s attention from your declining mentality were failing. And that was a reason to be concerned.

“That too,” plastering on an unconvincing smile, you stifled a yawn.

That caught his attention.

“You should get some rest” upon further thought, he added, “And food,”

The intensity of his look was stifling. You hated being the centre of attention. Especially in moments like this when you felt vulnerable, an object of pity and unease. Stupid, weak, and useless. The sabotaging voice came out in full force, making you want nothing but to curl up in bed and disappear. Not yet, however.

“Yes, sir” you raised your hand in mock salute.

Your face fell when instead of a laugh, you got a frown in response. Oopsie.

“I’m serious” TP seemed to consider something quickly before placing his hand on your forearm, “I’m… I’ve been a little worried about you” he met your eyes with a clear purpose.

Shit. That is exactly what you wanted to avoid. Being seen as pathetic and a burden. Internally, you cursed yourself for not being strong enough. For letting anyone see the cracks. You would not let them see you shatter into pieces.

“I’m doing fine,” mustering the happiest of grins, you tried to mask the urgency.

Please buy the bullshit.

“Are you?” he didn’t. Before your brain could fully arrive at the panic station, his inquisitive expression softened. You held his gaze for a beat, hoping to convey everything. Hoping to convince him to let the conversation go. It worked for TP gave a final taxing look before backing off. You exhaled slowly, relaxing a little. Maybe the worst was over…

“Before we go… there’s one more thing I wanted to talk to you about…” TP changed the subject, looking down at the table “The lock. You want to go with him”

It was not exactly a question, yet you knew he expected an answer. That one you could easily give him. It was obvious, even if you have never said it out loud. Up till now.

“Yes... Maybe it is an impulsive and stupid thing to do, but I can’t let him do it alone. I can’t let him get killed” the word felt foreign in your mouth.

As though ‘Neil’ and ‘death’ were two irrelevant concepts that did not fit together even in theory. They could not. You would not allow it. And you were willing to accept the worst of risks to make sure it would not happen. Hell, you would even fight against fate and time to assure that.

“I’d rather avoid that too” TP’s quiet comment made you look up, “He deserves so much more than…” there was something startling in his gaze.

As though he has stopped himself before saying too much. Much more than what? And why was he looking at you like that? Like you were missing something tragic, and his heart was breaking for your loss. You felt like going insane. TP cleared his throat awkwardly, resuming the conversation, not at all fluently:

“I don’t buy the whole ‘what’s happened, happened’. What does that even mean?” the irritation shining through his strange tone was distracting.

“Don’t ask me,” you shrugged, “I like to think there’s a different solution to this. One that doesn’t involve Neil sacrificing himself. And I need to be there with him because if it comes to it… I’d take that bullet for him” you did not know where the honesty came from.

Or why you would admit something that fundamental to TP. His response was just as anticipated – a gasp and widened eyes. Nibbling on your lower lip, you broke the eye contact and chose to stare at the forgotten gun lying on the table. It was the truth, so why did admitting it feel so… radical?

“Are you sure?” when he found his voice again, it was hoarse.

“It’s that kind of love,” you replied, still unable to meet his gaze.

You never expected to reveal yourself like that to TP. Wheeler? Maybe. Even Kat seemed like a probable option, but not the boss himself. And especially not at this stage of his story. Yet he was there, willing to listen, and that was enough. You would deal with the consequences later, in your mind that would undoubtedly rebel against such a display of fragility.

“I don’t want it to sound patronizing… but you’re still young. There might be someone else for you along the line if Neil-” his voice broke through your reverie as you interrupted him with a start.

“I know” finally, you raised your head again, showing the sincerity of expression, “But something tells me it’s him or nothing. Call it fate or insanity” biting back a dry chuckle, you felt a single tear form in the corner of your eye.

That was something you have spent most of the time thinking about. At the start, you desperately wanted to believe that you would get over this. That it was just another disappointment, and like before, eventually you would forget about those blue eyes and maniacal grin. But your heart knew better, constantly reminding you that it was not that simple. That Neil was not someone you just forget. Because how could you?

“Reality?” TP’s eyes were filled with thoughtfulness.

“Perhaps,” you cracked a smile, feeling heaviness in your heart lift by an inch.

Always something. Another yawn ended the delicate moment seconds later, making you scowl in annoyance. What was the point of tiredness when you could not even rest properly? TP laughed at your pained expression and got up:

“Now, you into the kitchen. And try to get some sleep” he offered you a hand which you took and stood up.

“I’ll try” a lie, “Thank you… for checking in and listening” sheepishly, you tried to find any words of gratitude.

“I owed you that after those hours in Oslo, filled with plans, coffees, and awful songs you’d sing to entertain us” the knowing smirk suggested that he did remember what you hoped would be forever forgotten.

MTV in Norwegian. Your knackered brain deciding that singing along to ‘Like a Virgin’ and ABBA was what had to be done to make everyone smile. Mistakes have been made.

“Don’t remind me,” TP laughed as you smacked him on the shoulder.

*** You did not sleep after you bid goodbye to TP. That night too was spent tossing and turning in bed, thinking about how everything could have crumbled so quickly. It has only been weeks since Tallinn. In fact, looking from the linear point of view, it has not even happened yet. The normal you have been enjoying the confusion of those days before Oslo when everything was difficult yet hopeful. Too good to be true, at times. Well, now you knew that those moments never lasted too long.

The next morning you quickly grabbed breakfast and sneaked into the sparring area, hoping to catch a few minutes with the punching bag before the troops would take over space. However, that day it was not meant to be.

You heard the voices as soon as you opened the airlock and entered the large room. It was divided into a few sections, each devoted to a different training exercise. To your advantage, each was also separated with a thin plastic screen. Cautiously, you approached the nearest divider, trying to determine whether your mind was not playing any tricks. After one second, you knew. TP and Neil were having a rather heated conversation on the other side of the screen. A sparring ground was the place you least expected to encounter them. And yet… You wanted to turn away and leave before more damage could be done, but the moment you heard the boss’s voice, you froze on the spot:

“Why are you so hard on her?” TP’s question rung out clear in the highly domed room “The only crime she has committed was falling in love with you. I don’t think that’s worth all that pain you’re inflicting”

There was no doubt as to who he meant. Your heart sank. Oh my god. On one hand, it was encouraging to know someone was fighting for your side and pointing out the unnecessary torture Neil was so keen on. But the fact that they were discussing the nature of your feelings was terrifying. Listening on felt wrong, yet you could not move away.

“It would be better for her if she hadn’t” Neil’s cold tone made your blood turn to ice.

There was something frightening in how distant he sounded. As though he was nothing like the man you fell in love with, only a cold impostor that borrowed his face and voice. He was right.

“Why? You told me that you love-” TP’s voice rose, incredulity tinging every single word.

Neil told him his feelings. You expected that, and it still felt like a punch. You leaned on the wall for support.

“It doesn’t matter what I said” the biting edge to Neil’s voice was new, “Or how I feel. The sooner she gets over it, the better for all of us” he threw it without caution, as though he was done with your bullshit.

With the fact that you were stupid enough to love him. He did not want your love. Never did. The crushing weight on your chest would not give way.

“You’re cruel” TP was surprised, as though he could not believe what he was hearing.

“That’s mercy” Neil was begging for the conversation to be over, “Cruelty would be letting her entertain the idea that we can...” he trailed off, unable to finish the sentence.

Christ. All those nights spent wishing for answers, and when they came you wanted to forget you ever heard it. It was foolish to believe anything could ever happen between you.

“But why? Neil, you are in love with her” TP raised his voice yet again, utterly done with whatever the blonde bastard was doing.

You could not care less. Nothing mattered anymore. But you did not expect the very next punch. Or the pain you would feel.

“I’m not” clear-cut rejection; nothing to interpret “I don’t love her. There’s no need to look at me like I’m a monster”

Enough. You heard enough. The pain was as bad as ever as you walked away. Your mind set on one simple thing - tea. Yes, that would solve it.

*** Going to the galley felt as though you were stuck within a dream you could not shake off. Half-aware of your surroundings, you nearly walked into Dominic, whose survival instincts kept him off your path. Muttering apologies, you undid the zip lock and sauntered into the kitchen without a care in the world. With a start, you noticed Kat sat at the table. She gave you a welcoming half-smile as she sipped the tea from the metal cup. Your autopilot stuttered, overwhelmed by the company. Blocking off any attempts at thinking, you followed the muscle memory. Setting the kettle on. Putting teabag into the mug. Earl Grey because it reminded you of those morning kisses in London. No. Wrong memory. You shook your head, waiting for the water to boil. The fridge was too loud, the buzz making thoughts appear. Sighing, you leaned on the counter. Your eyes were burning, the sensation increasing with every single blink. It was alright. So why did it feel like the world was ending?

The kettle switched off. Without sparing a single thought to the reality, you poured the water in, watching with fascination as the teabag floated up. Kat’s spoon let out a clink as she placed it on the edge of the plate. You jumped up, startled. That was enough to break through your carefully woven barrier. The thoughts came rushing in. Neil didn’t love you. Your chest tightened as the next breath came out strained. The air was gone. Your hands shook as you tried to take out the teabag. Fuck. Everything was over. A single gasp was all you could manage before you shattered. The tears fell down your cheeks in a steady stream, blurring everything with tragedy. Choked sobs shook your frame as you desperately tried to hold on. To sanity. To reality. Anything to make the pain go away. But it would not disappear, only getting stronger. As though through the glass, you could hear someone say your name. Voice tinted with worry and urgency. But you did not care. The sobs turned into a howl as you slid down to the floor. The sounds coming from your throat sounded foreign and harsh, tearing at your vocal cords mercilessly. Oh my god. That was the break you always feared. There was no end to tears falling down your cheeks onto the floor and beneath your shirt. Slowly breathing became almost impossible, forcing out those pathetic half sniffles that only made everything worse. You wanted to do something. Anything. To make it stop. To forget. To lose the ability to feel things. Your fingers clawed at nothingness, barely losing against the desire to make all that internal pain physical. By any means necessary. Because then at least you could blame it on something concrete. And not just heartbreak. A word you despised because it sounded weak. Stupid. Easily avoidable for everyone but not you. A lost cause. A failure.

“Hey…” warm fingers gently touched your shoulder.

You raised your head. The pounding headache and lack of oxygen, making everything seem twice as difficult. Kat’s blue eyes bore into yours with concern. You have made quite the show. Self-preservation told you to get up and leave, save yourself some shame. But you would not even know where to go. Or what to do. You did not trust yourself to make reasonable choices.

“Are you alright?” Kat’s voice brought you back to the present moment.

An anchor. Maybe this could work… She was still eyeing you closely, unsure about how to act but wanting to be helpful.

“Mmmm no,” you sent her a broken smile, grateful for the handkerchief she handed, “But it’s okay. Sorry about this. I didn’t mean to-” you gestured vaguely, knowing she would catch on.

Tears were still flowing steady, threatening with dehydration should this continue. But at least the wailing subsided to quiet sobs interrupting your sentence every few words.

“Don’t apologise, we all break sometimes,” Kat squeezed your shoulder, joining you on the floor, “Do you want to talk about it?”

It was tempting. Even if terrifying. But you felt like maybe she could be the listener you needed. Someone objective enough, without any ties to Neil or you. Someone safe to confide in that would keep your secrets in safekeeping. But…

“What if someone comes in?” grasping the most idiotic of excuses, you glanced at the airlock with apprehension.

You could just about imagine what would have happened should Neil walk in during your conversation. Your heart would not take it.

“We’ll just tell them to leave,” Kat’s cheeky tone made you turn to her, “I think they’re all a little afraid of me for some reason,” she added, with a small smirk.

She crossed her long legs and sat next to you with both your backs supported by the cupboard doors.

“As they should be,” you replied, feeling strangely at ease, considering everything.

That spark in her eyes was worth the stress over being too forward for someone you barely knew.

“So…” she nudged you with her shoulder as further encouragement.

There was no more escaping it. You took a deep breath, urging your heart to stay strong. Words started spilling out without sense or order.

“Is just... the world is potentially ending in a few days, and here I am crying over the fact that someone doesn’t love me” your throat contracted upon the word as though it was forbidden “I should’ve known better. He never could want someone like me because why would he” more tears as you realised the ultimate truth “I’m not extraordinary. It all feels so stupid, pathetic. But I can’t get over it because I still love him. And I don’t know how to stop” you finished the rant on a sob that forced you to cover your face with your hands.

There it was. Out in the open. You wondered how you could have ever been naïve enough to think your feelings could be reciprocated. For him, it was just a crush. Amplified by the troubles you had to face and the recent difficulties. Nothing more. You were conveniently there when he needed someone to lean on. But if it came to it, he would never choose you.

“It’s about Neil, isn’t it?” something in her voice made you meet her gaze.

You were that obvious, huh? A panicked thought convinced you that everyone on the bloody ship knew about your weakness for the blonde bastard. Yes, even that mess sergeant that always gave you a sorry smile when you approached the counter at mealtimes. Before you could spiral down another wretched rabbit hole, you asked the most innocent of questions:

“How do you know?”

There was no point in trying to convince Kat she got it wrong. She seemed to consider something for a moment before she looked at you with newly found resilience:

“Let me tell you a story,”

You quirked your eyebrow, confused and intrigued. Might as well… Nodding at her silent question, you rested your head against the cupboard. Dried tears tinged your chapped lips with salt.

“When we were in Oslo, staying in a hotel for two nights, TP went out, and Neil stayed with me” she set up the scene with a neutral tone, “We talked a lot about everything really. He asked me about Andrei...” you glanced at Kat, noticing a passing grimace, “Normally I would shut off, but there was that calm curiosity about him, and I didn’t mind saying too much” she admitted with a sheepish smile.

You knew the feeling well, always telling Neil too much because he was such an excellent listener. Confiding even the darkest of secrets and thoughts never felt like anything significant when he reacted with that same confidence and acceptance. That was one of the reasons why the fall was unavoidable.

“Neil has that sort of effect on people,” you returned her smile, shrugging slightly.

Kat patted your hand gently, noting the look on your face. The infatuation and yearning you could not get rid of whenever you did as much as spare a thought towards him.

“I can tell... the point is that he mentioned you, as well” your eyes widened as she paused, “His friend, as he referred to you but not without stumbling over the word a little” she grinned upon your struck expression, “He told me about your role in this. That you’re an asset, excellent sharpshooter, brave as hell and equally reckless at times” my god

You blushed, feeling Kat’s taxing gaze. Friend? Suppose that’s one way of introducing you to people. It was fascinating to know that even after the mess of Tallinn, Neil valued your contributions to the mission. That he would mention you to anyone. Favourably, at that.

“Sounds about right,” frowning, you pondered the implications of her words, “So you knew who I was that morning on the bridge?” the sudden realisation felt refreshing.

That explained her looks directed at you and Neil back then. The visible consternation about the matter of your relationship.

“Yes, it clicked pretty quickly” upon your perplexed gaze, she picked up the story, “I could tell that there was more underneath all the praise. There was that longing in his eyes and a spark that lit up only for you,” Kat added, smiling as you gasped, “I asked whether love was allowed in your line of business” there was boldness in her eyes that made your heart clench. Something important was coming, “He said yes, but it’s dangerous and best avoided. Only that’s not always possible. Sometimes it gets you, and before you realise you can’t breathe another word without missing that one essential person. Your heart doesn’t belong to you anymore, and nothing can be done” oh my god.

You stared at the floor as her words sunk in. It felt surreal, as though you have wandered into a dream. A good one. But dreams could only last so long… Shaking off the haze, you glanced at the woman sat next to you. She was observing you with an enigmatic smirk gracing her features.

“He said that?” your voice came out raspy.

Just a clarification. In case you have misunderstood. But Kat was not surprised.

“Yes,” she nodded, that same sympathetic expression on her face, “Considering what I’ve seen with you and him... there’s only one person he could’ve meant” your heart dropped, as though unused to the idea “I understood it that morning on the bridge when despite the awkwardness, he was willing to defy everyone else for your sake”

Your mind wandered back. Neil’s constant presence by your side, his hand touching the small of your back and then staying there for longer than necessary. His support and trust placed in your hands without hesitation. Right now, even something that insignificant felt unattainable. But it did happen. Could it be that he meant you? Unable to withstand the whirlwind of emotions, you stood up. Pacing in the tiny room, a protest came up, spilling out of your mouth:

“But I just heard him tell TP that he doesn’t love me” you swallowed hard as the reminder of the reality hit.

It was one thing to know it. Another to put it into words once again. You felt like screaming, demanding answers from the main culprit of this whole mess. But it was too dangerous. Another heartbreak could be lethal in its consequences.

“Sometimes we lie to ourselves to save the pain” the quiet certainty of Kat’s voice kept you grounded.

It felt risky to believe that he was pushing you away out of fear. But what if… No. You met her inquisitive gaze, hoping to convey the confusion and desperation. She must have understood for she added:

“He’s still coming to check up on me every evening, and the last two days he’s been a little… strange” the meaningful pause felt like bait.

One that you did not hesitate to take.

“How do you mean?” stopping mindless trotting, you sat down on the stool.

“Quiet, wistful, as though something was troubling him, threatening to spill out if he wasn’t too careful” a long taxing look; it sounded familiar, “Trust me, I don’t mean to give you false hope, I just thought you should know that before deciding on any further action” Kat got up and approached you.

Placing a hand on your shoulder, she squeezed it. You felt immensely grateful. Even if a little speechless… Because all of that was a lot to take in. You desperately needed a long afternoon spent in bed, staring at the ceiling and processing the eventful morning. Was it still morning?

“It means a lot, I’m not sure how I could repay you” finding the words again, you gave her a helpless smile.

“Just try to be happy. And don’t give up on things that seem too good to be true. Sometimes those are most worth keeping around” the depth of melancholy in her eyes was startling, “What will you do now?” the tentative tone assured you of the intent behind the question.

It was Kat’s way of saying: don’t do anything stupid. You could not promise that to anyone. The wounds were too fresh; emotions barely kept under control. Anything could happen. But you did not want to alarm her.

“I’m not sure. Think, probably” an unconvincing nonchalance had to do, as unprecedented honesty took voice “But I’m beginning to realise that if I won’t be able to… have him… I’ll just let him be. He deserves the best more than anybody else” you finished the thought and met her eyes.

A passing shock you found there was intriguing. As though your words reminded her of something, and she needed an additional moment to recover. God knows what sort of secrets everybody held on this god-forsaken ship… If the weight of the past and the unsaid could sink boats, it would have been long over. For everyone.

*** You thanked the gods (and Ives) for letting the topic of the lock wait out a little longer. Instead, the next morning’s meeting concerned the splinter unit, the who, and the how. As a result for once, no voice has been raised throughout the two hours spent on the bridge. Nothing much has been decided, but you did not mind. The burden of the last few days rested on your shoulders, preventing sleep or any form of relaxation. The word ‘tired’ did not even begin to describe it. But duties had to be put ahead of any personal issues and so you took part in the confab as usual. Seeing Neil after everything felt like a stab straight in the heart. His silence and the complete lack of acknowledgment of your existence were the added twist of the hilt.

The moment the meeting was over, you bolted out of the door in desperate need of fresh air. It was bound to rain later as the entire deck was covered in strange puddles that formed out of nothing. Perks of inversion and all that. Lost in thoughts concerning the locks, blonde bastards, and the torture of love as a concept and a feeling, you forgot about the golden rule of inverted rainfalls in the making – caution upon stepping on the wet surfaces. Turning around the corner, your foot slipped. Fuck. All you could do was flail your hands helplessly while praying that the fall will not be painful and that it will not detach the oxygen tank. Suffocation was not the death of your choice.

Suddenly the fall was interrupted with a strong grip on your waist. Hands pulling you upright, back to standing. The hold felt familiar. And forbidden. Turning to face the saviour, you were struck by the sight of the blue eyes that haunted your every waking hour. Every dream too. He was close, with hands wrapped around your waist securely. Somehow this felt worse than the fall. You half expected Neil to let go any second now, step away and yell at you for being clumsy. Or maybe just for existing. But he was still there. One of his hands slipped down onto your hip. Speechless, you kept on gazing into his eyes, trying to understand what was going on. All you could see was increasing the confusion. Desire. The boundless depths were drawing you in. Neil pulled you closer. Something in his face made you believe that if it was not for the oxygen masks, he would have kissed you. His gaze roamed across your features, intense, relentless, as though he could never have enough of you. It felt like being stripped bare, left exposed and vulnerable. Despite trying, you were unable to put up a guard, showing him all that he was not supposed to know instead. Everything you tried to hide and deny, bury deep inside so it could be forgotten. Well not anymore… Whatever Neil saw in your eyes woke him up. You noticed a passing frown, replaced with increasing shock. And then horror. What the hell. Before you could even process what happened, he let go and took a hasty step back. He looked sick, pale with fear and panic. Then, just as you tried to find any relevant words, Neil spoke:

“Be more careful next time,” cold and curt as though nothing happened.

He walked off briskly, disappearing into the darkness of the training grounds. What the fuck? A single drop flew up from the deck, splashing onto your chin. The rain has begun. You felt strange. Suddenly mourning the fact that you have been saved from suffocation. It would have been simpler. Less painful. Less terrifying.

*** No matter the hours passing by, or the thousands of different grounding techniques you have attempted, nothing was helping. Lying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, you wanted a multitude of things. To get blackout drunk in the hope of forgetting this morning ever happened. (You checked the galley, utterly disappointed to have found nothing with the necessary voltage). You wanted to talk to someone, briefly considering visiting Kat further down the corridor. But that would have meant being even more vulnerable. And a burden. So nope. At one point, you once again considered marching outside without the mask, letting the inverted lung membranes and fucked up rain do the rest. But you did not want to end the life itself. That was not all that bad. You liked your job, the various people you have met along the way. It was only that the current predicament was… unbearable. There had to be a different option.

Then mindless pacing replaced the stillness of lying down. Window, door, and back again. To be repeated for at least an hour. Your thoughts swirling around everything that has been said. Everything that happened. Kat’s story. The look in Neil’s eyes. What if… what if? The unknowns kept multiplying in your head, driving you insane with the extent of what you did not understand. You always hated those moments of suspense. Unsure whether to give up, let go and try to move on, or to keep trying, hoping. Your heart could never process them well without breaking and shattering into millions of pieces. Fuck.

There was one way out of it. One that you tried to push to the back of your head for the few past hours because it was too terrifying. But you were slowly running out of alternatives. One look out of the window told you that you had spent at least six hours like this. It would not do. It was either him or nothing. But you could not survive the insufferable without knowing which one it was. Taking a deep breath, you stopped in the middle of the cabin. This is it. You knew what had to be done. You put on the sweater as though in a trance, making sure to repeat silly affirmations in the quiet of your mind. It had to be alright. If it wasn’t, there were always the seals left…

The walk down the short corridor felt like ascending the steps to the guillotine. Only whatever might happen could be worse than beheading. Your hand shook as you rapped on the door to Neil’s cabin. The sound felt like the worst mistake you ever made. It was too late to turn back. After a very long moment, you heard shuffling inside. When the door opened, you were shocked by a few observations all at once. Neil’s eyes were reddened, hair in absolute disarray. When he realised that you were the intruder, his hands automatically went to smooth the strands in some way. Making even more mess in the process. In any different situation, you would have found that endearing. But your heart was too heavy. You eyed him instantaneously, gaze slipping over the fitting black thermal shirt and the joggers with narrowed cuffs. Not helpful. As you glanced back at his face, you noticed the intensifying confusion. That was the chance to speak…

“Can I come in?” a tentative start to make him more likely to agree.

The shock in his blue eyes slowly changed into careful curiosity. Neil gave you a once-over before opening the door wider and stepping back.

“Of course. Friends are allowed to visit each other” a hint of impatience as though he already had enough.

But that was not the most infuriating bit…

“Friends?” you crossed the threshold and met his eyes with the face of stone, “Sure, that’s one way of looking at what we are” the lack of reaction was inspiring, “Or were” you took a look around his room.

Equally small cabin, littered with a few personal objects. His was phone abandoned on the bedside table, a change of clothes on the floor. A naïve idiot would have taken a moment to consider the fact that maybe he was not as well as you thought. But you were past that, desperate to get answers. A reaction. An end to this madness. With resolve ever-increasing, you sat down on the edge of Neil’s bed, ready for the battle ahead. Meeting his perplexed gaze, you let the penny drop:

“I wonder with how many friends have you been kissing on the bed for two hours” a flash of recognition and then a frown.

As expected. But it still hurt.

That moment from the afternoon before the morning plane to Tallinn was one you often replayed in those desperate hours when nothing seemed to help. You were lying in bed in your room back in London, enjoying each other’s company, exchanging kisses like compliments every few minutes. Sometimes Neil would let his hands become more daring in their caress, causing goosebumps all over your skin. Bringing out sighs and making your heart overflow with love and hope that you finally found what you have been looking for. You felt wanted. You talked a lot about the future, sharing different ridiculous plans for how it could play out. Neil promised to visit your prospective farm with the sheep and dogs. Back then, judging by the look in his eyes, you dared dream that perhaps he would want to be a part of those days still to come. Now, looking at the blonde man awkwardly perching on the chair in front of you, nothing made sense. He stayed for the night then, allowing you to hug him close until the morning. You woke up first, watching him for a few minutes. The steady rise and fall of his chest. Relaxed face with hair sticking up. Calm and content. The warmth spreading from your heart inspired you to press a kiss to his lips as a means of wake up. The sight of Neil sleepy-eyed, peering up at you with a fond smile gracing his features was worth much. Maybe even the current tortures…

Facing him now, you could see the frown deepen.

“Painful memory?” you countered, watching him closely for any hints.

A mask was put on well. But there were flashes of something there. A potential… A possibility of getting burned too.

“In a way,” Neil grimaced, avoiding your piercing gaze.

He was uncomfortable, mindlessly picking on the skin around his nails and tapping his foot. That was the signal to keep on pushing. Until he would be forced to be honest.

“That’s a shame. It’s one of my favourite ones” as he looked up, you offered a deadpan smile, “Just like Oslo,” a shrug complemented with a quick scan of his body, “Though I’m not sure about that… ending,” feigning thoughtfulness you ended the harsh scrutiny.

The point was to back him up against the wall without making him throw you out. That tiny voice at the back of your head told you that he would have done that already if you were not in any way important. That voice was too confident.

“What is your point?” Neil bit back, betraying the level of annoyance you have brought with the innocent reminder.

You knew there was no more skirting around the issue. Now or never.

“Why did you do that earlier? Why did you hold me like...” you trailed off, unable to put into words what it felt like.

Like what? Like a lover. Like someone you actually cared about and not just an irritation. Like someone you could want in your life. But you could never say that to him.

“I was being a gentleman” Neil glanced at you with painfully fake indifference, “Women tend to appreciate that,” a shrug that could not fool you.

Women. The spark of jealousy burned bright. Because what if you were just another distraction. Nothing special. But then the things he said to Kat suggested otherwise. You held onto that thought and squared your shoulders. The game was on.

“...Right,” a sceptical glance in his direction before you continued, “Was that look gentlemanly too? Because last time I checked, gentlemen didn’t tend to look at women as though they wanted to…” trailing off, you awaited the response.

That would mean he took the bait. And the case was not yet lost.

“What?” the lazy tone made you meet Neil’s gaze.

He looked… off. As though before you knocked, he was not exactly fine. It was that nervousness and unkempt appearance that betrayed him. On its own accord, your heart gave out a painful thump, anticipating the fact that Neil too might have been hurting. But why? Ignoring the distraction, you found the needed words and dropped them carelessly.

“Devour them” you held his gaze confidently.

The verb felt right. As though Neil was not trusting his instincts, he looked down, breaking the contact. Putting up further guards. Bingo. He scoffed, throwing in cruelty to the mix:

“And here I was thinking you’re over… this” a vague hand gesture to show what this meant.  

You. And him. That something that both was there and was not. Or rather, he wanted it to cease to exist. Only it was not that easy.

“I never said that” putting on the necessary emphasis, you kept on staring at him until he looked up.

Mouth open for another quip. That same steel-blue eyes and clenched jaw. Whatever you have been doing was working. Slowly aggravating him to the point of discomfort. You had to keep the upper hand. Neil seemed to consider something, restlessly fiddling with a pen he picked up from the bedside table. After a beat, he spoke up:

“Why are you here?” weariness in his eyes as he gave out a long exhale.

Easy question… right?

“Because I want answers” it could not be any simpler.

He flinched, letting you see the extent of panic hidden underneath the annoyance and casualness.

“What makes you think I’ve got them?” an arched eyebrow adding the mocking intonation.

The meter of space between you felt like an ocean. He was close enough for you to brush away the strand that has fallen into his eye if you only leaned in. And yet so far that you felt alone, alienated by the cold scrutiny. You had to keep going, tearing at the carefully build up armour hiding him away from you.

“Because you always have words. An abundance of them” you waited till he looked at you again before pressing on “Be it things you probably wish I have forgotten that you have once whispered between kisses” a pause, noticing the boundless unease in the blue eyes “Or all those lovely adjectives you have given me the last couple of days” using the moment of hesitation, you added, “But maybe you were right, and I am stupid, emotional-”

You could give him the whole litany. Your legacy. Exactly how much you were worth in Neil’s eyes. Unless it was a lie…? Before you could begin, Neil raised his hand, interrupting sharply:

“Okay, I get your point” no pride in that frown, almost as though he regretted it, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that” the apology took you by surprise.

As did the sudden change in his face. Neil held your gaze with unusual sheepishness. As if even the act of looking at you was dangerous. Tearing the skin from his lower lip, he was the epitome of insecurity. There was no time to falter.

“Everything?” you prodded, mindful of the poker face you had to maintain.

You could not lose him now. Neil hesitated for a short moment before responding:

“Yes,” another second of eye contact, and he got up, impatiently touching the doorknob “If this is all you wanted, then I’d rather be alone-”

No. You leaped up, reaching out before he could finish the sentence. As your hand landed on his forearm, his eyes snapped to you in shock. He was not expecting you to breach the touch barrier. But there was no other choice. With heart hammering in your chest, you felt your throat tighten. Please not now…

“No,” emotions exposed in the tiny voice crack, “Neil, I’m tired of this, of you not making any fucking sense and expecting me to accept it” pleading, you let your fingers wrap around his wrist.

That had to do. Judging by the terror in his eyes, it was already too much. You could feel your resolve waning. Terrified of the consequences if this backfired. Of what you would have to do if he rejected you once and for good. Of the pain you would have to face then. But you had to be brave. He swallowed hard. You wondered what caused the goosebumps on his skin.

“If this is about earlier, then you’re blowing it out of proportion. Be more reasonable” there was a raw edge to his voice that was new.

You were close now. Enough to force Neil to stare at the ground to avoid looking at you. You noticed those dark circles under his eyes. And the tension spilling out in waves. He was scared of you. And that was a horrifying discovery. Your eyes were burning as you begged your heart to hold on. You had to survive this.

“It’s not just that” betraying the nerves, you took a greedy inhale, “It’s what you told Kat in Oslo. It’s how you look at me” following potentially disastrous instincts, you tipped his chin to meet his eye, “It’s all those sudden switches when you seem so cold and calculating and yet so separated from the real you” running out of breath, you could only stare at Neil.

The widened eyes and parted lips told you exactly how shocked he was. You did feel bad for bringing Kat into it. The argument was too strong to let it go. And it worked if his silent panic was anything to go by. He was desperately searching for words, unable to tear his eyes away from yours as though what you said was a binding charm.

“Why do you think you know the real me?” finally, Neil settled upon the question.

One last attempt at making you forgo this madness. Only there was nothing convincing in his delivery. Eyes hazed, showing you fear and uncertainty. A blood droplet on the lower lip where he tore through the skin. Ignoring the most innate of desires to wipe it off, you cupped his cheek. Neil gasped, frozen in the spot. Could it be working? Sliding your hand down, you interlocked your fingers with his. Everything felt surreal. As if you were not a part of the scene. But you had to persist. To finish what you started.

“Because you once told me that you’ve never lied to me. That I’m very important. Your everything, even” your voice broke again on the last sentence as you tightened your hold over Neil’s hand, “And I understand that you could have changed your mind, but…” you hesitated, feeling him shudder.

Oh my god. Your heart broke for the umpteenth time as the fact dawned on you. Neil was shivering slightly as though he was cold. But there was no draft. Nothing to cause it apart from your presence, words, and the physical touch. A choked sob built up in your throat.

“…why are you trembling when all I’m doing is holding your hand? Am I that revolting?” the questions were interrupted by a sniff you could not hold back any longer; there was time for honesty, “The last few days have been awful, making me want to stupid things just to feel something different than heartbreak. I’m not saying that to get your pity, but if I got it all so wrong then tell me now. Because I’m not sure I can survive much longer like this” after finishing the speech, the tears trailed down your cheeks uninvited.

It was all there for him. Nothing to add. Your heart was beating fast, blood pounding in your ears. For a second, you felt suspended in time, unable to do anything but stare at Neil, who seemed utterly speechless. And then his face fell. Eyes fell shut as he let out a heart-shattering whimper. Tears started falling down his face as you tried to brush them away. You have not seen him that broken since the aftermath of TP’s death. He tugged his hand out of your hold to cover his face, turning away. Christ… The searing pain was back, this time making your heart bleed for Neil. You did not know what to do, powerless and paralyzed with a multitude of thoughts and feelings. After a minute which felt like an eternity, Neil faced you again with red-rimmed eyes and tragedy in his gaze. That was the needed wake-up. Stepping back into action, you placed your hand on his chest. Just over the beating heart. A gentle encouragement.

“I can’t… I can’t tell you that it’s over because I still…” the breathless words tinged with panic and struggle as he fought for every gust of air, “I can’t keep on…” another sob, shaking his whole body “You’re…” a sharp intake followed by instant defeat.

Immeasurable anguish in Neil’s eyes was another reason to find the strength you did not know you had. Maybe it was worth it.

“What? I’m here with you and willing to listen. To do anything but please just make me understand” holding back more tears, you made sure he saw the determination painted on your face.

Slowly you were coming to terms with the reality. You would do anything for him. Anything he asked.

“I don’t know how to…” Neil trailed off, looking for answers all over the floor and ceiling, “I’m tired of having to pretend when you’re all I…” a moment of hesitation as his eyes widened.

He did not intend to say that much. You’re all I… what? Before you could find ways of pressing on, he turned away again and sat down on the bed. A frown etched deep into his forehead. Eyebrows furrowed. Eyes glistening with unshed tears. This was bad. Awkwardly, you shifted from one foot to another. Words were escaping you both.

“Then don’t. I won’t bite” your useless quip was received with an ill-disguised dry chuckle, “Call it naïve, but I don’t think it’s anything we can’t fix if we…” shit.

You knew what was there on the tip of your tongue. It was too early. Fuck knows if he even… But he had to. There was no other force in the universe that could cause this much pain.

“If what?” Neil caught your mistake with strange emotion in his eyes.

As though he wanted you to spell it out. You could not give in. Some words had the potential to destroy, and it was too fragile. A freshly opened wound you still had to mend somehow.

“Don’t make me say it again” a whisper to make him understand your actions.

After a beat, Neil nodded. He seemed exhausted, slouching and staring at the floor unseeingly. That feeling of helplessness threatened to come back with force as you were running out of ideas to make it work. To get him back somehow. Then his voice broke the tense silence:

“Christ…” a long exhale before he looked at you again, “I don’t even know where to begin, but…” resignation passed through his face.

You felt a strange spark of hope flicker in the depths of your heart. It did not look like rejection. It did not look like anything you have ever experienced, and yet it made so much sense. Because after everything you have been through, there was no way this could be easy. Kindling that building fire, you cautiously took a step forward, maintaining the eye contact:

“Yes?” the most neutral of tones, holding the emotions at bay.

Everything not to scare him off. You made it so close. You could give up now. A hint of a sad smile upon Neil’s lips was encouraging…

“Come closer. I want to…” he reached out a hand you gladly took, letting him pull you nearer.

It did not matter what he wanted. Only that you could give it to him. Anything. Everything. Upon the sudden surge of courage, you covered the remaining inches of space and straddled his lap in one smooth movement. Another gasp as Neil glanced at you with obvious amazement. Then, as though he worried that even this was too much, he looked down at where his hands tentatively settled on your hips. This position was familiar. And yet, you felt different, unable to make sense of the myriad of emotions and thoughts occupying your mind. All that mattered was Neil. His hesitant but intimate hold. The hair falling into his eyes. Shallow breaths escaping through the parted lips.

“It’s alright, look at me,” gently you lifted his chin so that you could meet his gaze.

Blue eyes full of longing. For you. Exhaling sharply, you knew well enough what to do. You wound your hands around his waist, drawing him into a tight embrace. That too felt natural. After a second, Neil relaxed, melting into your hug as if that was exactly what was missing. At that moment, with head resting in the crook of his neck, at last feeling as though there was a point in all this, your eyes welled up. No matter the suffering, this had to be it. Your everything. Neil breathed you in, warm puffs of air causing shivers all over your body. There was no point in pretending.

“Please come back to me,” you whispered against his skin, letting tears trail onto his shirt.

Neil tightened his hold, hands roaming over your back, pulling you even closer. All it took was a kiss he pressed onto the exposed skin of your collarbone to make you tremble.

“I never left,” the hesitancy told you he did not believe it either.

“You did. But maybe… I’ll do anything to have you back” the urgency in your voice causing Neil to lean back.

He wiped the stray tears from your cheeks, taking an additional moment to caress your neck with tenderness. You could only lean into his touch, feeling as though whatever might happen has already been decided. There was no way you could let this go. Neil seemed to consider something quickly before he spoke:

“All those words… they fail me when I’m trying to explain what I was doing” his voice was raspy with the weight of emotions, “Or why. Because I’m scared of making it come true. It’s as if once I say it… it might…” he paused, searching for words in your eyes.

“Become real?” you offered, running your fingers through his unruly hair.

You were right. It was all an act. The elation was restrained by worry and love. It didn’t matter.

“Yeah…” Neil swallowed hard, “And then there’s all this mess in my head… The thoughts that just won’t shut up. I’m so fucking tired of… of-” the familiarity of his words causing another flash of pain within your heart “I can’t ask you to-” he cut himself off as though the idea was unspeakable.

You caught a sight of something darker within his gaze. They always said that actions speak louder than words…

“Neil, I said I’ll do anything. I mean it. What do you need?” you met his panicked eyes with resilience.

It took him a longer minute to stop staring at you. To wake up. And then, as simple as it can be:

“You. I need you,” touching his forehead to yours his breath ghosted your lips, “But after everything I did, I wouldn’t expect you to want me… like that” the depth of remorse was heart-breaking.

You already knew what the answer would be. Nothing else mattered. Regrets, worries, and fears had to be abandoned for the sake of this.

“The trouble with the heart is that it doesn’t care what you’ve done. Only that this is you,” smiling lightly, you cupped his cheek, “Just… kiss me. Like you mean it. Like you could love me. And then we’ll see if we can make it work,” unsure where the words came from, you faltered.

But before any vicious doubts could step in, Neil closed the gap. His lips slowly glided over yours, reminding you what it felt like. It did not take much persuading for you to open your mouth, deepening the kiss. It felt like coming home after a long time away. Like that first step over the threshold when one is unsure what they will find. Only to realise that everything is in the right place. That they should have never left. You tangled your fingers in his hair, bringing him even closer. He groaned upon the sensation, teeth grazing over your bottom lip. A sigh escaped your throat as Neil’s hands ventured underneath the sweater. For the first time in a while, everything made sense. You tugged at his shirt just for the sake of it as a means of showing him how wrong he was. You wanted him more than before if that was possible. The kiss consuming you both with its intensity and force. Your tongues participating in their dance, brushing against each other, increasing the intimacy of the moment. It finally felt right. Slow, unhurried, but desperate. Unforgettable.

You did not even know when it ended. One moment you were willing to give up breath if only to make it last longer. The next Neil had you pinned to the bed, breathless and shocked. When you met his gaze, the depth of expression told you what it meant. Finally.

#tenet #neil tenet #neil x reader #neil tenet x reader #neil tenet imagine #neil tenet fanfic #tenet fanfic #robert pattinson #the art of inversion

[ghostlywritten]

If Only I Had Stayed In The Shadows - Chapter Ten

James Potter x OC

Words: 4,8k

Prologue  Chapter One   Chapter Two  Chapter Three  Chapter Four  Chapter Five  Chapter Six  Chapter Seven  Chapter Eight  Chapter Nine

The break passed and life in Hogwarts continued in blissful peace for the next few months. At least for us students. Outside of the walls and grounds of Hogwarts, the situation was getting darker and darker each day. People went missing or were declared as dead, causing chills down our spines whenever the list grew longer with each newspaper.

I sighed, folding a piece of parchment that contained a letter from my parents about their well being. They were alright but had to take a lot of extra hours, giving how more and more muggleborn or halfblood wizards and witches were registered every day and night with the worst injuries at their hospital. Some - if not many - did not make it by the end of the next dawn. A hand snatched the letter from my hand and I glanced over at the messy-haired boy next to me as he unfolded it again. "Ever heard of privacy?" I asked and his eyes widenend in mock-astonishment, "No, what's that?"

His good mood evaporated slightly though after he skimmed the letter and an usually solemn expression graced his features instead. "Things are really getting worse everyday, aren't they?" he asked quietly, catching Sirius' attention from his other side.

"What's getting worse everyday?" he questioned, joining our conversation. Remus, Peter, Lily and Marlene looked up from their sheets as well. We were gathered together in the Common Room, sitting at one table to 'study'. Some would think it odd since we never usually mingled together, especially with Lily's open hatred towards James and everything the Marauders stood for. But ever since he and I got together, everyone consequently spent more time together as a group, surprisingly getting along...most of the time.

"A lot of people are dying or getting injured," James replied, handing me back my letter.

"Mom says, the hospital is being run down. They won't be able to carry so many patients for long," I added, feeling uneasy, "Apparently the healthcare system is close to collapsing."

"That's bad," Marlene commented, worry creasing her forehead, "What's going to happen if this goes on?" Everyone shrugged, glancing at each other helplessly as no one had an answer.

"The Ministry will figure it out eventually," Remus tried to reassure us all, straightening up in optimism.

"Right, they always do," Lily agreed, causing Sirius to scoff quietly. She gave him a challenging look, raising her eyebrow. "You've got anything to say, Black?"

"There is a lot I could say that would certainly not please you, Evans," Sirius quipped.

"Anyways," James cut in before a bicker session could begin between them, "We shouldn't turn our hair grey because of this. We are young! And still have more than a year left in the safest place in the country."

I nodded in agreement, leaning into him as he threw his arm around me. Lily silently flickered her deep green eyes between us.

"But what happens after we graduate?" Peter spoke up with an almost quivering voice as he still looked worried.

"Let our future selfs worry about that," Sirius dismissed.

"We should still have a plan though," Lily pointed out and I allowed a frown on my face after she finally ripped her intense gaze off. She had been doing that a lot lately, staring at our interactions longer than deemed normal. What was her issue? "You know, the teachers are planning to start sessions for career advice with each of us. Having no plan probably won't look good."

"Oh, I already know what I'm going to do," Sirius shot back immediately, smirking confidently, "Auror sounds pretty enticing, especially during this time, doesn't it?"

"Same," James said and I resisted the urge to raise my eyebrows at his confidence, "That or Quidditch," he added as an afterthought.

"I don't know," Marlene mused, "Auror does have a nice ring to it but I always thought I would do something with Potions...," Stunned silence and a collective jaw drop followed. The brown-haired beauty burst out in laughter at our disbelieved looks, shaking her head, "Just joking. You should see your faces."

I rolled my eyes at her. "You really got us there for a second, Marls," Remus chuckled.

The evening passed and even though I would have liked to say we did a lot of studying...we didn't. "Well, Remus and I gotta go," Lily sighed, getting up, "We're patrolling tonight."

"Uh, sounds fun," Marlene commented sarcastically and the red head shot her a look.

"Right, on it!" Remus got up as well, readying himself, "Boys, don't pull any pranks tonight. It will make me look bad."

"But Moony, now is the best time! With you on patrol, we won't get any punishment!" Sirius stated indignantly.

"That's exactly what I mean with making me look bad," Remus remarked with a sigh, "I'm a prefect, mate. Help me out by not doing anything."

The black-haired boy seemed to contemplate his options before giving in with a pout, "Fine, but you owe me."

"Good boy," Remus said, patting his head like a dog, "I'll see you guys later...ladies, have a good night."

"Night, Remus!"

"So, if no pranks are allowed...how about we get a midnight snack from the kitchen and head to the Astronomy Tower?" James suggested and I gave him an offended look even though my heart fluttered at his romantic suggestion. "I am second to your pranks? Really?"

"Of course you are!" Sirius snickered.

"Of course you are not!" James contradicted and it was his best mate's turn to give him an affronted look. "Really, Prongs? You're giving me up for a lass so easily?"

"...Pretty much, yes," James shrugged, causing me to snort.

Sirius pouted. "Can I at least tag along?"

"Me too?" Peter added himself.

"Sorry mates, this time is only for me and my love," James declined, pulling me closer as we got up and kissing my temple. I blushed slightly at his open affection. Ever since New Year's Eve we had become closer and practically glued to each other. I couldn't believe my luck at this point, wondering how I had managed to capture the attention of this charismatic and sweet boy when I was a rather boring girl with a boring life. Yet, here we were, officially together for about four months in and going strong.

After grabbing a few snacks from the kitchen, we headed up to the highest tower in the school. I sat down at the ledge, leaning against the barrier with my arms and resting my chin on them as I breathed in the fresh night air. James settled down next to me, quietly handing me a sandwich I bit into immediately whilst we enjoyed the peaceful atmosphere and presence of the other. The view was magnificent, moonlight reflecting from the slight waves of the black sea and I imagined the Giant Squid breaking the surface with its tentacles from time to time.

"What are you thinking about?" James eventually asked softly and I glanced over. His cheek rested on his crossed arms, eyes locked on my face. I blushed slightly at his gaze, looking back out at the landscape. A tinge of happiness rose in me as I thought how life was for me at the moment. Despite my parents throwing fits because of my career choices, I had a great boyfriend, who supported me in everything. And as cliché as it sounded, he made me feel safe during the dangerous times of war raging just outside of the Hogwarts grounds. Is that what love makes you feel-? My thoughts came to a screeching halt at the l-word before it started racing uncontrollably fast. Love? Did I love him?

"Cec?" James poked my arm, breaking me out of my reverie and I twitched slightly in surprise, "Are you spacing out on me?"

"N-no, I was just...," my eyes flickered around for an escape, "..daydreaming," I ended lamely, pressing my mouth against my underarm.

"Okay?" James raised an eyebrow, clearly not believing me, "Are you cold? You are twitching like a weirdo."

"Jeez, thanks," I said sarcastically, though immediately blushed when he scooted closer, throwing an arm around me. "It's alright, weirdo," he said with a grin, "I'll be your knight in shining amor once again and keep you warm."

"And once again, I gotta remind you of a little magic trick called Heating Charm," I replied with the same grin, warmth spreading through me at his cute gesture. James was full of cute gestures, it was a miracle no one knew that. Maybe, because he had never been able to show this side of him before. I bit my lip, shyly acknowledging the increase of my heartbeat at his proximity, the realisation of my feelings suddenly becoming clear.

I had fallen for that idiot.

Days had passed and I was mulling over how to tell James about my feelings. Should I tell him at all? Should I wait for him to say it first? Did he feel the same anyway?

There was only one person to ask for love advice. Someone, who had helped me before.

"Marlene, should I tell him?" I asked.

"Absolutely not," the beautiful Gryffindor answered immediately with her eyes wide.

"Why not?"

"The boy has to say it first. That's the rule."

I made a face. "Is that really? Or are you just making it up?"

Marlene sighed, grabbing my shoulders. "Dearest Cec. We girls easily fall in love. And we figure it out quite easily, too. A boy usually needs a while longer and if the girl were to approach him with her feelings, he would immediately feel swamped and make a beeline for the next exit. Until he is not sure of his own feelings, I wouldn't tell him."

I frowned slightly, "That's a bit biased, don't you think? I'm sure not all boys would try to run away."

"Oh believe me, they will," Marlene stated almost darkly. Something told me, she was talking from experience but I was not enough of a Gryffindor to dig deeper. She noticed my gaze though and immediately let go of my shoulders, leaning back in nonchalance. "I mean, you can risk it and tell him or you can wait. Personally, I believe waiting is the best. It doesn't hurt now, does it?"

I pondered over her words whilst wandering the halls in search of the one boy, who kept running through my mind. Sure, it wouldn't hurt to wait for him to say it first, but the question was how long would he need to realise it? Could I perhaps quicken it up by just telling him first, making him notice his own feelings faster? Or would it just pressure him to say it, too even if he doesn't mean it? That thought filled me with horror and I swiftly decided to keep my mouth shut.

Though, when I rounded the corner to the courtyard and saw him standing in all his bespectacled, nut brown messy haired glory I couldn't help but suddenly hear my heartbeat loud and clearly, drumming in my ears in a pace it would usually go after a sprint or a run up of blasted staircases. I couldn't help but stop short in my movements to savour the sight of his smile for a second, the same smile he would direct at his mates and me, all the people he loved (perhaps he did actually love me, too), his teeth shining in the sunlight that would occasionally peak through between the many clouds and I decided to tell him my feelings then and there, head slightly dizzy from the once again quick change of mind. But before I took a step forward, my eyes flickered away from him at the reflection of the sun on shiny red hair, rippled in perfect waves and slightly blinding. And then they flickered towards a pair of glistening, emerald green eyes that were smiling at the exact same boy I wanted to talk and spill my feelings to.

I swiftly stepped back in the shadows, wincing at my own behaviour. Why was I spying on them? They were doing nothing but talking, laughing at each other...something I had never seen Lily do with James before. Ever. Wishing I could hear what they were saying I looked back at James, feeling my chest warm at the sight of his smile but almost burn at the realisation who it was directed to. All the people he loved...

'No,' I shook my head, 'We've talked about this before we got together. He made it clear that he lost interest in her...after pining after her for years.' She clearly never reciprocated his feelings, so their not-lovestory was over when he moved on. But what if she did reciprocate his feelings? I thought back on all the times I caught her staring at us. Could it be that she had been feeling something for him all along and was just hiding it? Or didn't realise it until now?

Marlene's lessons on keeping a boy interested crossed my mind. Would trying hard to get work on girls, too? After all, James had been chasing her for years and suddenly stopped paying attention to her. He was even in a relationship. But would that spark an interest in Lily? Certainly not. She wasn't the type to chase after someone, who was taken, not to mention one, who had been annoying her for years. No, she was just befriending him now that he wasn't pining after her, seeing as they were in the same friendship circles. We were all spending more time together, the girls and the Marauders. And as Marlene, Alice and I were starting to get along more with the boys, so was Lily. It was bound to happen that we all grew closer. If anything, it was a good thing.

I relaxed a bit at that conclusion, smiling slightly as they laughed quite loudly at something James said. Back then, when I was obsessing more over other people's relationships (since I had none of my own), I always thought they would get along really well if James hadn't been chasing her in his boisterous and overly-done way. Him, with his wild and goofy nature that would dare her to many adventures, and her, who would be able to tame him and not take it too far, keeping him on the ground. 

+A perfect friendship. 

A perfect relationship.

My smile faded and I turned around. Despite myself, I didn't dare to reveal my feelings to the boy on that day.

Neither did I on the following days that turned to weeks until we reached the end of the spring and the world slowly turned warmer in the first days of the summer with a turn from April to May. Everything was as normal as it could get when you were friends with the Marauders. Classes were the same, Quidditch practices were the same, we had won the last game against Ravenclaw and were now on first place to win the Cup as long as Slytherin lost against Hufflepuff (which was quite unlikely, but nobody tell James). The Marauders pulled their usual pranks, although they were more tamed than in their previous years and less directed at us girls. James and I were still going to strong...yet none of us had said the l-word even though we had been together for almost eight months by now. And although Marlene kept reassuring me that it was normal for boys to take longer in their admittance for love, all the romantic books that I'd read throughout my teenage years stated otherwise. We should have long since reached that stage to proclaim our love for each other, shouldn't we? Hell, James proclaimed his love for Lily everyday for years ever since he saw her and they weren't even together. It shouldn't be hard for him to realise whether he loved me or not.

This fueled my insecurities more each day that passed without a confession, which caused me to keep my mouth shut about my own feelings, too. Instead I found myself frequently catching James and Lily alone, deep in conversation, whenever I was looking for him after he went missing on all of us. Either at the library, where I had never seen him go as often as now and on his own will, too, or outside at the courtyard or on the Hogwarts grounds with her sitting in the shade of a tree and him dangling from a branch above her, grinning down at her as she laughed whenever his glasses slipped askew from his upside down position. It was practically a picture ripped from the pages of a romance novel. And the burning feeling in my chest would continue.

"Lily and James are getting along pretty well, aren't they?" I commented off-handedly one day. Marlene, Alice and I were sat in the library together, studying for the upcoming exams with Lily having gone to fetch more books. Alice tensed up slightly, her eyes flashing from me to her book whilst Marlene looked up, shrugging nonchalantly. "Guess so. Now that he is not annoying her anymore."

"Right. Good thing," I said, nodding along to her words. Needless to say it was relieving to see that she had the same thoughts as me about this. An expert like her would have caught on if there was something more to their sudden closeness, right? Nonetheless I looked over at Alice, who suddenly seemed very busy with scribbling something down on her parchment. Alice, who out of the three of us was the closest to Lily and who would likely know exactly what was going on. "What do you think, Alice?" I asked her bluntly as she didn't seem to want to join the conversation on her own.

Startled, she looked up and I gave her a tight-lipped smile as I awaited her answer. "Eh, yes. They seem to get along better than before. At least, Lily is not yelling her head off anymore every time she sees him," she replied, laughing albeit nervously. Just then, the aforementioned girl headed back towards our table with four books stacked in her arms. I gnawed on my lip, wondering how to ease the constriction in my chest that had been my constant companion for a while now with the ongoing uncertainty.

"Hey Lily, are you dating someone?" I asked her as she sat down. Her books promptly landed on the table with a bang as she had slackened her grip on them in surprise. I cringed slightly at the glare thrown at us from Madam Pince and Lily mouthed a silent 'sorry' at her.

"What? Why do you ask?" she coughed slightly, glancing at the other girls, who had looked up in interest now.

I shrugged. "Just wondering. You are pretty and someone ought to have to courage to ask you out, now that James is not holding anyone back from it," I laughed slightly at the end, hoping to dissolve the suddenly awkward atmosphere that appeared at my statement.

"She's right, Lils," Marlene thankfully butted in, blissfully unaware, "You are the only single among us and you've been for a while. It's time to get some!" Lily went beet red, reaching over to smack her on the arm as we all snickered slightly. "Jesus, Marlene. That's so inappropiate!"

"What? It's true! You are the only single among us. And someone is bound to have asked you out lately! Right?" the brown-haired beauty pressed on and I had never been more grateful for her noisiness than now.

Lily grumbled under her breath, hesitating slightly before she gave in, "Maybe. Some Ravenclaw perhaps." Our eyes widened and Marlene squealed as quietly as she could. "I'm not interested though!" she quickly added at our excited looks, deflating my relief, "Now drop it. We are here to study." And with that, she successfully ended the topic.

Later at night I met up with James at the Astronomy Tower, our usual spot when we wanted to hang out after curfew. "Hey, how was your day?" he greeted me warmly as I sat down next to him at the edge of the tower, resting my arms against the railing. A cool breezed rushed throughout the tower and James quickly scooted closer to wrap his arms around me before I even started to shiver and I smiled at his sweet gesture.

"Quite well. Studied a lot. And you?"

"Quite well. Pranked a lot," he mimicked, grinning when I laughed slightly. "Which poor soul did you harrass this time?" I asked, resting the side of my head against my arms as I listened attentively to him recounting each prank with great detail, his arm leaving me once in a while to emphasize something but never failing to come back around me. "Sounds like you had a lot of fun today...," I remarked when he ended and he nodded with a beaming grin, "...and when did you study?" His beam deflated into a pout, causing my shoulders to shake in silent laughter.

"I don't need to study," he grumbled nudging me. "Sure, you don't." I nudged him back, slipping to the side and almost under the railing when he nudged me slightly harder. He quickly grabbed me by the arm and pulled me back towards him. "Sorry about that," he apologised embarrassed and I giggled slightly, resting against him. "Don't worry, I don't mind this at all," I replied, snuggling my head against his chest. He wrapped his arms around me, pulling me tightly towards him. "Mhmm, I'm sure you don't," he chuckled into my hair, his lips grazing slightly against my earlobe and causing me to shiver. I could feel his smile as he deliberatly brushed against my ear again and I squirmed slightly, burying my red face in his chest. "Why so shy all of a sudden?" he teased and I stifled a gasp as he playfully nibbed at my ear. "I'm not shy," I protested, voice muffled. "Is that so?" He tried to back away but I tightened my arms around his waist, firmly keeping my face planted against his chest. "Yes!"

He laughed lightly, promptly dropping on his back and pulling me on top of him. I adjusted my position, placing a leg on each side of his hips and resting my ear on his chest, listening to the steady rhythm of his heartbeat. "I could stay like this for a long while," James commented with a blissful sigh as he wrapped his robes around me for warmth. I raised my head to shoot him a smile and he grinned back at me softly. Craning my neck I placed a kiss against his jaw, unable to resist the urge. He quickly pulled me further up, rising up slightly to capture my mouth with his and my eyes fluttered shut as he held the back of my head, his fingers grasping my hair. I fisted his shirt, a swarm of butterflies causing a wreckage in my stomach as he molded his lips against mine, his tongue peeking out to run across my lower lip when a sudden noise erupted somewhere close.

I pulled away quickly. "Did you hear that?" I asked breathlessly as I looked up.

"Hear you moan for me?" James tugged me back down by the neck. "Not yet," he whispered huskily against my mouth. My eyes widened in surprise, heart pounding against my ribcage at his words. He nipped at my lip with his teeth playfully before fully placing his lips against mine again until I almost forgot what had interrupted us in the first place. But the fear of getting caught outside of curfew broke me out of my daze once more. "Seriously, James," I whispered breathlessly, looking up to squint at the doorway, "I think someone's down there. They might come up." James groaned, tugging at my shirt. "No ones down there."

"And what was that noise? What if we get caught?" I asked, sitting up.

"Probably gonna get detenti- uff," he hissed and I glanced down at him to see him holding his breath. "What's wrong...?" I questioned when I realised I had sat up directly on his groin. 

Oh. 

"Oh, Cec," he breathed out as his eyes darkened, "You really shouldn't have done that." He shot up, crashing his lips against mine before I could get another word out, his hand coming up to entangle in my hair as his other arm wound tightly around my waist, pulling me flush against him. A small moan escaped me when his sudden movement caused his hips to grind against mine as I sat securely between his torso and his slightly raised knees. "There is my moan," he smirked against my lips and I could have sworn my heart stopped at this devilish sight. Breathing out shakily, I took his face between my hands, seeing his eyes soften slightly before I tilted my head to deepen the kiss, unable to restrain myself in any way. He reciprocated eagerly, his hand fisting in my hair as our tongues clashed together. I moved slightly against him, a flash of excitement coursing through me when I heard his breath hitch. "Fuck, Cec," he groaned in my mouth and my eyes almost rolled back in pleasure at the mere sound. He reached down to grasp my thigh tightly, pulling me closer and I gasped against his mouth. His thumb stroke softly over my skin, smiling at the goosebumps erupting everywhere. He let his hand travel up until he reached the end of my skirt. "Can I?" he asked without detaching his lips once and I nodded, resisting the urge to moan when he dug his fingers in the exposed flesh under my skirt. "James," I breathed out as I broke away for air, feeling him shiver. His mouth trailed down to my neck, nibbling on it as I tangled my hand in his hair, his own letting go of my waist and reaching up to undo the buttons of my shirt-

"James and Cec sitting in a tree," an all to familiar voice reached our ears and my eyes snapped open. "K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" James halted his movements, burying his face in my neck with a groan.

"First comes love!" Sirius sang joyfully as he appeared by the doorway, a piece of parchment in one hand and his wind lit up at the tip in the other. "Then comes marr-holy shit!" His eyes widened slightly at our disheveled figures but his smirk came back as soon as it had disappeared. "My my, first come the babies it seems with you two!"

"Fucking hell, Sirius!" James cursed, turning around to glare at his best mate.

"Hi Prongs!" Sirius greeted innocently, waving his parchment.

"Worst timing ever, mate!" I buried my face in my hand in embarrassment, wondering if our compromising position would go unnoticed if I pretended that it wasn't compromising.

"Sorry Prongsie, your babymaking has to wait. We've got a little something going on tonight," Sirius said, not sounding sorry at all as he nodded outside. I peeked a glance between my fingers to see James' eyes widen under his slightly askew glasses. Glancing over my shoulder I caught sight of the full moon, partially obscured by a few clouds.

"Right, give us a minute please," James requested and Sirius disappeared down the stairs again. His hazel eyes appeared startingly lighter under the shine of the full moon as he grasped my hips softly with both hands. "I've got to go," he said quietly and the atmosphere seemed suddenly serene in contrast to a minute ago.

"That's okay," I replied as quietly, adjusting his glasses once again and he smiled that sweet smile, that one damn sweet smile only reserved for his loved ones and my mouth opened before I could stop myself, "James, I l-"

"Prongs! Hurry up already!" Sirius cut me off from down the stairs. James huffed, rolling his eyes at his mate.

"I'm sorry. I really gotta go," he said and I nodded quickly, scrambling to get up and off him. He adjusted his clothes before stepping closer, giving me a sweet kiss. "Good night, love," he said softly as he fastened up the buttons he had undone on my shirt, "I will see you tomorrow?"

"Definitely. Good night."

Unbeknownst to him, to Sirius and to me, Sirius had just saved me from committing the biggest mistake tonight. Twice.

Chapter Eleven

#James Potter #james potter x reader #james potter imagine #james potter x oc #james potter fanfiction #harry potter imagine #marauders imagine #harry potter fanfiction #marauders fanfiction #marauders era #Marauders #sirius black imagine #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Lily Evans #marlene mckinnon #marauders fic #Harry Potter

[yongiefilms]

FILM | Together Alone

BASED ON | The NCT secret santa collaboration feature done by bumblebeenct and lucaswithnoshirt studios over @neoculturechristmas​ headquarters 

DEDICATED TO | My own precious secret santa, @sly-merlin​! This one is for you my love. I hope I did you justice for the type of fic you requested and I hope you like it! By the way I apologize for getting your present to you late.

STARRING | Huang Renjun and Female Reader

FEATURING | Lee Donghyuck 

GENRE | Romance, Drama, Angst, Fluff, Business centred, and Holiday centred

RATING | PG-13

WARNINGS | Thematic elements, suggestive references and implications, crude humor, language, mentions of death, a deceased parent, drinking, alcohol, and other adult themes

PLOT | Everyone knew him. The heir to the multimillion dollar company. Next in line to inherit the top pharmaceutical business in all of China and South Korea. For being only 20 years old he was the most accomplished person of his age. Set to become the CEO at age 21 on his birthday, nearly a few months away, there was nothing that could deter him down the road for further success. They say he’s envied by most, yet loved all the same. If only people knew who Huang Renjun really was without his family’s name plastered against the walls of society that gave him fame and fortune. Only one would have the chance to find out the truth of his reality and sometimes when that comes near the end of a year shutting close, not everything can end pleasant like one hoped. OR Happy endings might not exist in this messed up world.

RUNNING TIME | 6.4k

DIRECTOR’S NOTE | Happy Holidays, my loves! This work is in honor of you all and the amazing year you all gave me with your immense love as well as support. I appreciate every single one of you more than you will ever know so I wish happy days among you this season and new year. I love you and please enjoy! Also, shout out to my lovely proofreader, @dvrlingrenjun​, you’re the best.

1, 2, 3 Now Rolling...

“Fuck them all!” Huang Renjun yells out in frustration, leaning back abruptly in his black cushioned chair, his hands clutching tightly at his dark strands of hair.

The younger boy smirks at him, leaning against the pillar by his office. “Wouldn’t you like that?”

A glare was sent in his direction in retaliation. “Shut up, Donghyuck.”

“Sure, big guy,” he dismisses, the jab made at the older visible with the way his words cut through the air. “Still doesn’t render the fact that you have to go to this event like you always do.”

Renjun groans, his right hand going around his left wrist to play with the gold Cartier bracelet that rested there. A gift given to him when he turned the legal age of eighteen a few years ago. A gift given to him by his father, on behalf of his mother or so it was said. One that was a promise of luxury and achievement if he continued down the path they set out for him. His decision then when he was an adult to decide his fate, but that was only a lie. The bracelet was only a bribe for a materialistic life where he could be well off and if he stepped away then he would be stripped of everything that made him who he was. 

“I know, okay? We do it every year but that still doesn't take away from the fact that I hate it. I hate all of it.”

Perhaps his father was a part of that.

“Well,” Donghyuck drawls, shrugging his shoulders when he lifts his body off the pillar to take long strides in order to reach the other boy. “At least it’s out of town this year so I’m down...I mean free vacation.” He gives a toothy grin, his eyes sparkling of juvenescence and a thrill for adventure, mystery, excitement. At least one of them still had a childlike soul and a more or less normal life while the other was forced to grow up too fast in the spotlight where eyes were scrutinizing his every move before he could even walk.

They called it maturity, but Renjun calls it loss of youth. 

“You’re such a freeloader,” Renjun mutters, his hands stopping from playing with the bracelet to glance up in exasperation.

“Says the boy inheriting an almost billion dollar company without batting an eye,” Donghyuck snorts with an eye roll, picking at his nails that now gained all of his attentiveness.

It was true after all.

Renjun laughs in mockery. “You’re just jealous, so I wouldn’t be talking if I were you.”

Donghyuck sighs loudly for effect. “Cous, I wouldn’t want your life even if I tried. Some horrifying shit.” He shakes his head, obviously disturbed by the notion.

Renjun’s voice becomes small, yet firm. “It isn’t that bad...”

Donghyuck finally stops twiddling with his fingers to give the other the time of day with a look of obvious reluctance. “Uncle is scary, can you blame me?”

“Guess not, that man is my father.”

“Exactly and as much as I would love to continue this conversation,” Donghyuck glances at his crisp navy steel Bulgari watch, seeing the time half past noon. “I got to run, meeting with the boys soon and I just needed to deliver the message before that. Little pit stop if you will.” His hands flair out in a theatrical motion as if he were giving a bow.

“Oh?” Renjun raises an eyebrow, hands reaching out to get started on the stack of papers placed at the edge of his desk by his receptionist before Donghyuck’s surprised arrival. “Say hi to them for me.” He pauses in afterthought, knowing the younger’s antics. “Or not.”

Donghyuck’s boisterous laugh rings. He knew him so well. “Very funny, but oh, wait!” 

The increase in his tone attracts the older’s regard who was beginning to read through the proposal. “Yes?”

“Here,” Donghyuck states, reaching into the back pocket of his chinos to pull out a small black velvet box with gold edging. “An early present of sorts. I assumed you might like it.” He slides the box over on the desk where it is caught in the grasp of delicate hands.

“Proposing are we? You know we are related right?” Renjun smiles snidely, running his fingers over the soft velvet in wonder. It was rare to get a gift from Lee Donghyuck himself and with the right intentions at that. 

“It would be an honor and privilege to marry me, thank you, but no it’s just...open it when I leave. I’m not into that sappy shit as you know. I have a matching one too, but yeah merry early Christmas and New Years.” His easy grin widens as he winks to take backward steps to the exit of the office. Always one for a dramatic flare.

“Matching...we can’t be a couple either, Hyuck,” Renjun says, shaking his head while he puts the box down on his desk in wait.

Donghyuck flips him off and grits out a reply. “Shut up and be grateful for once.”

Turning his head back to his papers, he mutters, “Oh, I am.”

“Anyways, bye you fucker. Don’t drown in work,” Donghyuck lets out once he turns his back.

“Thank you for caring, delivery boy,” Renjun shouts as his cousin finally opens the door to exit after his much longer than anticipated stay.

Donghyuck’s hands still on the silver knob before he can fully push the door. “When don’t I? If you’re gone then that means I would have to inherit the company and as much as I would love the money, the fame, the attention, maybe even the girls...I don’t want that responsibility. You get me?”

Renjun rolls his eyes, spinning the black ballpoint pen between his index and ring finger. “Just say you’re lazy and go.”

“I am going!” Donghyuck exclaims while he turns his head over his shoulder, shooting the boy sitting at the desk that didn’t quite fit him well, another wink. “Bye for real, Junnie!”

The door at last closes and he is gone in a blur of colors.

Renjun mumbles under his breath. “I told you not to call me that.” 

His mother used to call him that and she didn’t have the chance to stay long in this world. Taken too soon is what they say, but maybe she was blessed before everything turned to stone. 

With Donghyuck’s departure, Renjun looks over at the lone box that was gifted to him, perhaps not a gift like the others that held no meaning, for this one was an outlier in the equation. Donghyuck never gave without meaning or gain so it had to be special.

He places his pen down and picks up the box, undoing the clasp that held it close. The box opens to a sight he has gotten used to, yet there was a disparity. In between the cushion of the velvet laid a beautiful silver Chopard ring. The band was simple in design, yet intricate with the signature ice cubes filled with small sparkling diamonds across the entire width. Renjun handles the ring with care once it is taken out of the box to inspect every detail. Not only was the brand engraved in stunning cursive on the inside, but Donghyuck had gotten the ring customized with the word family in the same writing on the opposite side of the inner circle. 

Renjun runs his fingers over the engraving, the words rough under his calloused hands. He hums in thought as he slips the ring on his middle finger, the radiance seeping in from the windows catching the precious metal. “Family...family...I haven’t had one in a long time.”

The truth is he had, has, but he was too blind to see. 

Family is not just those that are immediate, composing of a father and mother or even siblings. Family can also entail the greater extent from cousins to aunts to grandparents. Family can even be those that are not blood related like the friends a person surrounds themselves by. 

Renjun has family. If only he could acknowledge them before they too left him utterly alone. 

Alone was something Renjun was not for the days to come. 

A week later after his cousin delivered the news about the annual holiday vacation and company sponsored events that his family has been hosting since his late teen years, he was flown in a private plane against his will to a remote town near Busan, far off from the heart of Seoul. He would rather spend the holidays in the city where he grew up like all those past seasons ago, but his father decided there was a need for change, a mirror of one forthcoming in virtually three months. Usually those that made the trip came for the designated three days they were given which still involved work communications with scant room for relaxation depending on the schedules of selected individuals. However, if one was a Huang, which Renjun was the only one left along with his father that were at least part of the business, then departure and stay differed. Intermingled was the Huang winter vacation with that of business affairs, a factor that was born when the tradition started. His father always said to kill two birds with one stone when given the chance and this very situation was one he took hold of to morph into a personal gain. 

Nothing was ever as it seemed with his father, nor himself. One characteristic they shared among a hundred to a thousand polarities.

Albeit this time around, Renjun had fought against his father’s wants, which was not the first instance, but was one that ended in surprising success. Success he tasted on the daily, even if all was bitter with no room for happiness. However, this success was sweet with contentment, ending with an awfully horrid aftertaste. Convincing his father to fly him out along with the others on the 23rd of December instead of the 20th was a victory no less. At least he didn’t have to spend unwanted days in the presence of his old man longer than necessary. 

He arrives in wealth and social standing like he always did for once his black A.Testoni dress shoes hit the white tiled floor of the airport’s general aviation ramp building, everyone within his general vicinity, even those afar, are taking heed to his every need, that as of now are limited. 

A slightly older woman who he deems as his assistant, comes into view, her black Prada heels clicking loudly against the tile as she advances with a clipboard and her trusty cell in her hands to the boy. She cheerful speaks into the empty building, her smile unwavering. “Mr. Huang, I am glad you had a safe flight. I printed your itinerary for the next couple of days that I will hand to you once we are in the limo. Considering it is…” She glances at her Apple Watch Series 6 to check the time. “Two forty three as of now, we can drop off your luggage at the Lodge and get you settled into your room before your three fifteen lunch with Mr. Kim and his wife at the Yongsusan Café. You will be with them for an hour before the rest of the afternoon is yours to spend productively. Then at six o’clock the maids and stylists will come by to get you ready for the business meeting at seven thirty, following with a small dinner party with those same individuals, including their wives and children. Sounds good?”

Renjun does not even have time to reply before his assistant speaks again. 

“Yes, okay! Let’s get going then.” She turns on her heel abruptly, yet with expertise without room for error and begins taking steps away from the plane to the left. “The limo should be this way, follow me while your luggage gets loaded. The drive should not take more than ten minutes.” 

He has no choice but to accompany her as he would not be able to make a run for it, he will be caught within seconds. He tried once and that was only one failure amongst little to none in his book. 

His strides are slow and lousy as if he had all the time in the world to do as he pleased, when he in fact did not, far from it in actuality. Even so before he knows it he reaches the limo and is lurched forward in motion towards his destination for the next few days. The place his dad selected oozes with sumptuous intent, being a gorgeous mid-century modern wooden lodge that nearly looked like a manor upon inspection. As the limo pulls up to the front, Renjun is able to see the beauty up close that he is entranced by even if he seems unfazed. New places and people excite him more than he lets on for his life is dull, lacking fulfillment of an unknown tomorrow. 

The porter, who is situated in patience by the front doors, strides forward to open the door of the limo, permitting Renjun to step out with the authority and grace bestowed upon him. 

When he crosses the threshold into the Lodge he is met with an even better interior that rivaled that on the outside, but he is not allowed to ponder too much on the design before the head manager greets him.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Huang, it is certainly a pleasure for you to stay with us at the Lodge this fine holiday season. I am Gwan Jang-Mi and I will be showing you to your room today along with giving you a small tour of this place in order to familiarize yourself with the setting. If you look here to your left…”

Her speech is drowned out into obscurity as Renjun’s awareness shifts to another woman, one so stunning that he is surprised he did not take notice sooner. When sauntering through the entryway into the resting room that will be cleared out in the next couple of hours, a bar is situated to the left where you stand, arranging countless bottles of liquor to wine on the counter, no doubt for the little party later or for the meeting. Those men were heavy drinkers and needed alcohol to make it through the rest of the evening. Renjun did drink to drown his sorrows, worry, and anxiousness away, but he was not one to throw himself down a spiraling hole of darkness nor chaos that he could not get out of, for those consequences were ones he did not want to reap.

The soft sunlight peaks through the high guarded windows, shining down on your face that enunciates your features. For simply being in a black polo and khaki pants, you made it work and drew all attention to yourself without even knowing the power you held. 

The moment of admiration comes to a close when Renjun is ushered away from the ground floor to make way to his room in the upper levels, leaving you behind.

Yet that would not be the last time.

Time goes by slowly when there is no purpose, no meaning to the daily workings of one person in the masses of others. Renjun has experience in that regard, time always goes by slowly for him and exhausts him a great deal like a rotary clock that seeks no end. 

He was worn out by the time he got back to the Lodge in the early evening due to the stay with the Kims went longer than necessary and he was called elsewhere upon emergency to discuss future matters. He did not have time for himself like his assistant had plainly made known so there he was, collapsed head first into his silk covers, ten minutes to six. 

Instead of taking a long awaited nap he is ushered up and into more formal wear after a cleanse from the bustle of bodies that barge into his room. 

No privacy. No sense of normality. 

That is the normal. 

The next few hours go by in blur from him sitting in front of a mirror to have his hair styled to sitting in front of burly old men that were associates and inventors of the company in a grad meeting room with locked doors and the finest assortment of liquor that money can buy. 

He is out of the confines in no time, not even bothering to say one final hurrah before he lurches himself out the door and into the now cleared out resting room. One of the servers comes by then dressed in all black attire that was nothing of the typical black and white uniform, edging towards a usual guest. Renjun snatches a glass of sparkling champagne and gulps it down in one go off their silver platter, discreetly of course, for he has to look composed—sober throughout the entire affair. He always could hold his alcohol without a problem and he felt blessed to have that advantage. One thing he is proud of. 

He is whisked away not even moments after by one of the older investors, Mr. Han, to moreover chew over the end of the year budget and his stance on future decisions to be made in the new year. From the corner of his eye while listening to the man talk in a flamboyant manner, he sees his father standing with a glass of white wine happily talking to another investor, a more influential one, the most influential one of them all and his wife along with their daughter who was not even carefully surveying the room in search of someone.

Renjun’s eyes widen in shock, mumbling under his breath, “Shit.”

Mr. Han stops the flow of words out his mouth, his eyebrows rumpling together. He did not hear the swear word the boy uttered, yet he heard something in passing. “Pardon?”

Renjun shakes his head vaguely, bringing his third glass of champagne in the air as a sign of departure. “Ah excuse me, Mr. Han, but it seems I have been beckoned elsewhere.” His eyes shift over to his father who was not making direct eye contact with him, but Mr. Han did not need to know that little detail as he observes Renjun’s line of sight. 

Mr. Han chuckles brightly. “I see, well I must not keep you from your father.”

Renjun smiles. “No, you must not, but we shall continue this conversation later, Mr. Han. I am sure you have much more to say and I will happily discuss further with you.”

Mr. Han waves his hand in the air nonchalantly. “We shall. Now off you go.” 

Renjun nods his head, his lips still quirked up in a smile, this one more genuine than the last, as he makes a beeline towards his father to make everything seem more believable. Though once he no longer feels the eyes of Mr. Han on his retreating back he switches routes, going to the left rather than straight ahead. He circles around the opposite side, catching a stark mop of washed out red hair amongst the crowd in the process—Donghyuck. His cousin is not alone, however, talking rather freely with a girl he could not quite see in his peripheral vision. The grin on Donghyuck’s face is undeniable even with his back turned and the way Renjun hears the tiny giggles you are emitting, all is too familiar, which is the perfect cause for a disruption.

Renjun does not acknowledge his cousin when he arrives at the bar, the younger boy too immersed in conversation so he signals for the other worker that comes becking to his call. 

“A Negroni, on the rocks.”

The girl nods in understanding and turns to prepare the drink while Donghyuck still has not noticed his presence. The younger boy always did focus on what was in front of him rather than on his surroundings, contrary to his cousin that saw the whole picture. Two contrasting people surely with unlike futures ahead of them. 

The frosted glass with the reddish-orange liquid and topped with orange shavings is served to him a minute later, placed in front of him on a matching glass coaster.

He clears his throat loudly in an attempt to catch Donghyuck’s attention. “Thank you.” 

A method that proves effective since the younger boy finally turns his head to the right to see Renjun sitting on the barstool next to him, sipping casually on his high class Negroni. 

His eyes are wide, but he masks his shock with a subtle smirk. “Jun! Well, well, if it isn’t the mini man himself. How long have you been sitting there?” 

Renjun snorts into his glass, shaking his head at the dig Donghyuck made at his height, always one out for blood. “Far too long to have noticed your flirting from across the room, Hyuck.” It is now his turn to smirk, but Donghyuck’s own is still unfaltering.

“I take pride in my skills, glad you gave your time of day to notice.” He elevates his glass up then, filled most likely with a Nicolashka, his favorite holiday drink to date, and takes a sip himself, a move Renjun mimics.

Then your voice interrupts. “Sorry to cut in, but I have to get back to work. You’ve been distracting me for the last ten minutes, mister.” Your stern gaze is directed at Donghyuck from the latter statement. Although once your words are uttered, Renjun focuses his eyes on you, scrutinizing your appearance. The very girl he saw earlier today, the girl Donghyuck so happened to have a chance with before him—you.

Donghyuck laughs, the smirk morphing into a shiteating grin. “I told you, call me Hyuck.”

“Well, Hyuck, I have to get back to work...plus I am sure you want to talk to your friend.” Your gaze flickers to Renjun in that instance and lingers there longer than necessary that has him laughing to himself. 

Donghyuck’s charm only goes so far. 

The younger boy peers at Renjun when you utter out friend, and he smiles small in remorse. “Sadly, but do not let me keep you from your work.”

You turn your back on him, your eyes catching Renjun’s in the process before you look away from the intensity of the dark orbs. “I wasn’t planning on it.” 

You leave the bar area then most likely to put on an apron that Renjun noticed you had not worn throughout the entire duration. Donghyuck simply distracted you before the start of your shift and after, not a good trait to inherit. 

Donghyuck hums, but let’s the remark go as he fully turns to Renjun to start up that conversation. 

He raises an eyebrow. “Must you always keep me from having fun?” 

Renjun shrugs his shoulders, swishing the liquid in his glass. “Not always, but I was saving that girl from misery. You should be thankful that I care enough.” 

Donghyuck taunts. “Oh wow I feel so special.”

Renjun sternly eyes him, his voice lowering. “You should.”

Donghyuck’s lips open to retort a response, but no words are spoken on his end for his eyes look over the older boy’s shoulders and he catches sight of someone none of them truly like or have liked after the incident. He sees her.

“Well fuck, here comes the devil,” is all he makes out and the phrase enough has Renjun turning his own head hastily to see who he was watching. Such is when he sees his ex-girlfriend, Cha Yeona, prowling straight towards their way.

“I’m going to go...so good luck, mate. You’ll need it.” Donghyuck pats Renjun’s shoulder in departure and his gesture of sympathy, leaving him in the wake of a girl he really did not wish to see or converse with. 

Once he leaves the bar in quick speed, you come in at that exact moment, your eyes zoning in on the way Yeona’s dainty hand latches onto Renjun’s forearm in greeting. You turn away from the image, busying yourself with wiping down the glasses. 

“Oh! What a lovely surprise,” Yeona voices, letting her hand maneuver down to place on top of Renjun’s hand in which she gives him a faint squeeze thereof. He flinches from the contact, retracting his hand to slip into the pocket of his Burberry blazer while the other rims his glass. 

He peers at her intently, a potency that has her giggling nervously. His looks could kill whenever he was serious with a blank face and austere hollows of eyes. “Hello, Yeona.”

She sits down gracefully on the stool next to him, crossing her long unblemished legs over each other, her hands placed in her lap. Her smile is bright and makes him want to pull out his hair. She was always two-faced. “Hi Jun Jun! How have you been?”

He lets the pet name go, but does not glance at her again, looking over her head at the white lights strung outside. “Good.”

Silence engulfs them that has her fidgeting out of discomfort. He evidently did not want to talk. She reaches her hand out to touch him once more that has him leaning away. She sighs in defeat, retreating from the gesture. She would have to reach him some other way. “Well...I—”

He cuts her off from continuing, drowning the last contents of his drink before he pushes the glass away towards the server at the end of the counter. He puts a hand up. “Save it. I have no reason to talk to you again. Leave.” 

He arches his eyebrow when he sees she makes no move to leave and he chuckles darkly. “Do I have to tell you again? Or should I have security escort you out?”

She flinches from the tone of his voice and gulps, her throat becoming exceptionally dry. She hurriedly stands up, almost ripping over her heels and departs without a goodbye, not that he wished to get one from her. Her slim body covered in a blood red dress slips into the crowd and Renjun finally releases the breath he was holding. 

He tugs at the strands of his gelled back hair. “Fucking bitch,” he mutters, lifting a finger in the air to signal for another drink that the server speedily moves to make. 

“A little harsh, don’t you think?”

Renjun lifts his eyes to see you gaping at him, an eyebrow uplifted in fascination as you finally were in your uniform, a white cloth draped over your shoulders. Renjun runs his hand through his hair and scoffs from the remark thereafter. He was sure the stylists would be upset to see him dishevel their mighty work, but he could care less.

He shakes his head, the strands of hair rustling. “No, I think not. She deserves it.”

“Wow. Again, harsh.” You laugh mockingly and grab his drink that was slid over by your coworker to clean the glass again. You place the beverage down on the coaster which he takes with pleasure, muttering a small thank you that you can barely hear amidst the classical music playing in the background. Your hands make contact for a split second that has tingles erupting on your end, in a rather cliche response, yet he made no move of the feeling. 

There is quietness again that makes you flustered since you were never one to enjoy the muted scenery, always wanting a sound ringing in your ears. While Renjun enjoyed the still, always wanting a sound that faded in the wind and never made a comeback appearance. 

In a desperate attempt to keep conversation while making yourself busy by fixing up the bottles of alcohol, you propose a question that invades his privacy, whilst he never had privacy to begin with, a factor you were left in the dark about.

“So...um...your girlfriend?” You ask, in regards to Yeona that left some minutes ago. 

Renjun snorts, placing down his glass and interlocks his hand to rest his chin on, a move to focus solely on you. “Right. She’s my ex-girlfriend actually so you’re not entirely wrong.”

You mumble out a quiet, “Oh.” It was not your business to know his affairs after all, yet there was a voice nagging within that made you curious to find out every part of him.

The tranquility hugs the both of you once more, until he questions you out of the blue. 

“You want to get out of here?”

To say you are shocked is an understatement, since you are in fact bamboozled beyond belief. He says the declaration with so much firmness and certainty, it has your heart twisting on the inside.

You lightly laugh to mask the shock and turn around to really look at him, a look that he reciprocates. “I don’t even know you.”

A keen smile is visible on his lips. “Exactly the point. You have nothing to lose.”

You shake your head, leaning against the counter of the bar to stare into his eyes that look so lifeless, yet beautiful. “Maybe, but this is my job. I can’t just bail.” 

He leans his head closer to you, an act that allows you to a whiff of the Christian Dior Ambre Nuit cologne he wears and his minty fresh breath. “Of course you can.” His soothing voice turns teasing as he smirks. “Don’t worry I won’t tell.” 

You scoff to yourself, surprised by his mannerisms of outforwardness. You look around then to see if anyone is watching the two of you, but all eyes are elsewhere and you let out a sigh of relief. Another girl comes into the bar when you glance to the side, most likely to cover the next shift that was not yours quite yet, be that as it may you did have a break coming up. 

Renjun outstretches his hand in patience, his smirk slowly growing, even if it was borderlining a smile that you could see right through. He hums in anticipation and you give in.

“Okay fine, but not for too long,” you say as you rest your hand in his. The cold of your fingers meet his warm ones and you latch on for dear life, afraid to let go. 

He grins at you and squeezes your hand. “No promises.” 

Then he proceeds to drag you out of the bar, tugging you to who knows where. The tingle of a secret keeps you on your toes and you become giddy, laughing along the halls as he steers you left, right, straight, left, right, up...a never ending cycle of adventure.

“Where exactly are you taking me?” You ask after gaining the courage. He is intimidating in some regards, the thought of how he acted towards his ex-girlfriend as visible as day in your mind.

He shrugs, finally slowing down. “Who knows. Could be outside in the cold or near a fireplace in the warm. You will just have to see.”

“That certainly gives me no direction at all.”

He turns his head to look at you and stops suddenly, having you nearly crash into his back before he tugs you to the other side. He chuckles when he sees your horrified face from almost busting your nose. “That was the point, darling.”

You huff in annoyance when he continues walking, the pressure of his fingers around your own feels heavier as time drags on and your heart has no sense of calm, constricting with the name of endearment that slipped past his slim lips.

“Okay, we are here!” He announces and lets go of your hand, the bareness of his heat leaving you shivering. You take a step back from planting your feet firmly on the floor and glance around the room in which he stopped. It was one of the upper level rooms with strict access only to the most wealthy of the associates and investors. His family must be one of those highly regarded, if only you knew how highly regarded his family is, being the ones with the most status, the most affluent lifestyle. However, you would remain clueless.

“Oh, wow. The view up here is amazing.”

Renjun laughs, placing his hands in the front pocket of his slacks as he strolls around the room, glancing at the glowing fire that was left on and the books that were sealed shut. “Trust me, I am well aware. Why do you think I brought you up here?” He gives you an exasperated stare, peering past at the giant window you stood in front of that showcased the whole town, now covered in sleek white snow. It must have snowed while he was conversing with others at the party for when he arrived at the meeting hours ago, the land was void.

The white flakes are still falling outside, delicately covering everything in one uniform color that leaves you in awe and he is left admiring you, how at peace you are. How free you look, an emotion he never held onto in his entire life.

“So besides admiring this view, what are we doing up here?” You ask, your fingertips grazing the cool frosted glass of the window, seeing beyond to the endless landscape and twinkling stars along with lights of the houses nearby.

Renjun answers bluntly. “Admiring the view.”

You can’t stop the titters from escaping you and you roll your eyes, an action he sees through the reflection.

He steps forward, coming up besides your figure to look more clearly at the breathtaking scenery of a winter wonderland. “No, I’m joking...at least partially.” 

You giggle some more, interlocking your hands in front of you. “I didn’t know you had it in you to joke.”

It is now his turn to laugh. “Darling, I have a lot in me that you don’t know.”

You sigh solemnly, taking a step back to turn around, examining the other objects around the room. “Oh, I’m sure.” 

He is an enigma waiting to be unraveled, but you would not be the one to solve his case and that alone is an idea that scares you. 

Before you can get farther away, his hand wraps around your wrist, preventing you from escape. You peer down at his hand then up to his eyes, your eyebrows scrunching together in perplexity.

He does not speak, only drags you into him to where you are now chest to chest, only an inch of distance between your bodies. The closeness between the two of you leaves you breathless and gasping for air. His thumb carrasses your arm and runs down to the palm of your hand, enveloping his fingers around your skin. Your eyes are trailing the movements and you take a sharp intake of breath, curious as to what can happen next. He hooks his other free index finger under your chin to lift your face up so he can see you in distinct luminosity.

You have gazed at his eyes practically all evening, but nothing has prepared you for seeing him up close. He is even more handsome in full definition from the lines on his soft pink lips to his perfectly tousled hair. 

“You’re beautiful,” he mutters, his thumb running along your cupid’s bow. “Absolutely and breathtakingly beautiful.”

You gulp, the words drying up in your throat for what could you say to his compliment?

Then everything happens at once.

His hand moves to wrap around the back of your head and he tugs you closer by the other until you are pressed up against each other. He lightly pushes your head forward and contact is made. 

Lips against lips. Moving and moving against each other, taking all your breath away for the second time within a span of a few seconds. 

He lets go of holding your hand and wraps his arm around your waist, to pull you closer if such is even possible. To make the contact more tender and desirable.

You suppose desire is that which allows the moment to escalate further. From a mere innocent kiss to a fiery passion of craving for more. 

When your lips separate, he does not think twice before grabbing your hand once more and dragging you down the long corridor to arrive at his secluded room around the corner.

He opens the door with haste as you come tumbling in after him, grabbing, pulling, tugging until all that is left is just you and him.

The frantic beats of two hearts. 

The heat of skin pressed against skin. 

Simply two bodies that became one all due to the desire floating around the room and pushing you to the limit. 

You lost yourself in him that night and he in you. 

Lost to the pure ecstasy of pleasure during the season of joy and love.

Yet the season could also be one for giving and taking.

You wake to a cold bed the next morning.

Gone is the warmth of a boy who made you feel like you were on top of the world, someone special enough to demand notice and have anything that is asked for. 

Gone is the sweet nothings he whispered in your ear, the words of assurance, comfort, and false love that made you feel worth it and simply protected.

Gone is the long lingering touches of his fingers pressing into you and dancing along the lines of your body to explore and learn.

Gone is the feeling of his lips on your skin that was enough to ignite you ablaze and leave you seeing all the colors of the rainbow.

Gone is he—Huang Renjun. 

All that remains of the remembrance from the night is the note he left by the oak bedside table, one that crushed the dream of longing and hope within. One that slapped you with the crude reality of who he truly was, is, in a place that you did not belong to and never would. 

Thanks for last night, but it’s a one time thing. You can see yourself out. Happy holidays.

He signed the note with his initials, H.R. and his family’s embroidered seal. 

Then you realize in that moment, your bare body covered in his silk covers in the large suite he had all to himself, that the holidays are not for everyone. 

You can either be together with someone else or alone by yourself. 

Never the two. 

Always one or the other. 

You had hoped to be together yet alone with him in privacy to make your own memories away from prying eyes, but at the end of the day you were by yourself and he was too.

That is how life works in this sick, twisted world.

Men against men. Women against women. Everyone against everyone.

Alone.

Never together. 

Like he and you.

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[96dys]

hydrangea ; johnny seo

money makes the world turn. there was so much of it, and yet so few people ever saw it. maybe if it weren’t for the money, johnny might have acted differently. maybe his family’s badgering wouldn’t have weighed on him as much as it did. maybe he wouldn’t have taken you, because finding a wife this way wouldn’t have mattered. he didn’t like the circumstance, but he couldn’t keep himself from liking you—the dirt-poor girl who worried more about helping others than feeding herself.

ceo au

taglist: @tyongpoetry @xianxian95 @aaaaalex05

masterlist

02 | little prince

eating breakfast alone wasn't something that was very new to you, though it wasn't often that you were able to eat breakfast, let alone something this size. your stomach had begun to ache just looking at the size of the plate in front of you, but your eyes lit up in awe of the colorful array of fruits. of course, they were accompanied by an alarming amount of vitamins and supplements, just as you'd been asked to take the previous day. a glass of water was provided to help you wash it all down, which you gladly sipped on between bites.

for the sake of getting out of your bedroom, you'd asked to have your meal in the common area, though you did your best to keep yourself just as isolated. you sat with your legs crossed in front of the coffee table, mindful of the way the skirt of your pale pink dress fell upon your lap. despite being alone, you couldn't help but feel as though you were being watched at all times. the door was open but a crack, just enough for you to see staff members pass through the narrow hallway. the curtains had been pulled open, allowing the bright sunshine to wash over your figure. a peaceful silence filled the air, something you were especially fond of. jisung was very kind, but you weren't sure you'd be able to handle any more of his mindless chatter after this morning.

of course, he had offered to keep you company while you dined, but you were very quick to decline. as hard as you tried, you were unable to hide your haste, for he had just spent almost an hour talking your ear off about the most random details of the wedding to come in just two days. it had gotten to the point where you stopped trying to decide which information was important and what was not in favor of blocking it all out entirely. even as you stood under the warm stream of water flowing from the showerhead above, you could hear him muttering things to himself as he tidied up your bedroom. you most imagined this behavior was due to growing up without the presence of others his age--if anyone at all. while you did feel sympathetic toward the boy, you weren't used to the constant noise.

your previous life was fairly quiet, even at the tiny, makeshift school where you had spent all of your free time. there was always the odd occasion where a child or two would be exceptionally talkative, though most of the time the children were too malnourished to have the energy. it was a struggle to get the group to participate much at all, let alone speak amongst themselves. you tried your best to encourage your pupils to make friends with one another, but this wasn't something that was accepted with open arms. you couldn't even find it in yourself to be upset at them for this, given that your brother had been your only friend growing up; it was this way for most people you knew.

after a long day at the school, you would go home to an empty home. it was tiny and everything seemed to be falling apart, but it gave you a private space to unwind as much as you possibly could. you never cared to invite anyone over, nor did you have anyone to visit. it was lonely at first, but after a while the silence became very calming. perhaps this was because it was the only constant in your life; the only thing that would be waiting for you at home without fail. a meal was not always promised, nor was a new book to read, but there would always be a heavy silence ready to envelope you as you drifted off each night.

looking down at your plate, you noticed that it was nearly empty. oh how you wished your brother was there to fight you over what remained, like he used to when he was too young to understand how little your family truly had to go around. unless you finished your food with incredible speed, he would begin whining about how hungry he was, about how you needed to share with him. you would always shoot him a glare and questioned why he deserved to eat more than you did, which would only result in the little boy pinching the tender skin around your ankles. as you cried out in pain, he would quickly grab at the food resting atop your lap., smiling to himself as he bit into your food. this wasn't something you ever imagined yourself missing, although the change in circumstance caused the memory to become very fond.

after having your entire life uprooted against your will, you've found that many of the things you used to find so unpleasant have been on your mind. this was especially conflicting, as none of these were things you had to deal with within recent years. it almost made you sad to realize that there was nothing to your life that was worth missing; everything you cared for had been ripped from your fingers the moment all of your family members were gone. you longed not for the days you spent as an adult, but the miserable nights you spent as a child begging your father to stop yelling at you over whichever minor inconvenience had stressed him out that time.

perhaps the anger you felt toward your current situation was purely out of spite, though this only caused your heart to sink a little further down into your chest. was your life of so little meaning that you couldn't find a good reason to continue to be hateful? did you have so little back home that this new setting seemed only a little less than pleasant? the change was beyond unfair, yet you could only sigh knowing that you were likely better off here anyway. you wanted to do more--to lash out in anger, fear, or something--but you just couldn't.

a light knock floated through the air, causing you to dart your head toward the door. it had been pushed open, allowing johnny to lean against the frame. he was smiling down at you, like he was genuinely happy to see you a second time. your eyes widened ever so slightly, just enough to make him chuckle. you had been doubting his promise to make time for you everyday, so his presence came as a bit of a surprise. in all honesty, you figured that work would come first, making you an afterthought for him to tend to at the end of the day, but he was as early as he possibly could be without having interrupted your meal. it was as though he couldn't wait.

"i'm really glad to see that you've eaten," he spoke happily, glancing at your plate for a moment before returning his gaze toward your face. he could tell that you'd taken all of your vitamins as well, which made his smile widen just a bit. a wave of joy washed over him momentarily, knowing that you felt comfortable enough to do so without any resistance. he made a mental note to send someone to clean up the remains of your meal, though it wasn't like you had left much of a mess at all. "we don't have to leave now, but i'm ready whenever you are. i don't mind waiting in here for a little while if that's what you want to do."

you set your fork down on the edge of your plate and shook your head. there was nothing left for you to do here and therefore no reason to stay. standing up was a very slow process, as you had to be very cautious in your dress, but it felt nice to stretch your legs once you were able to do so. it was no surprise that you were fatigued already, but you hoped it wasn't very obvious to the man in front of you. he seemed unfazed, so you assumed he was unable to tell.

"please tell me there's less walking this time," you muttered, mostly to yourself.

johnny laughed in response as he took a step to the side, allowing you to pass through the doorway. it wasn't hard to fall in time with your lazy footsteps, yet continuing to keep your pace posed a bit of a challenge for someone with such long legs. he did his best, though he wound up a few steps ahead within a minute flat.

he reached into his back pocket and pulled out a white plastic card. he waved it around for a moment before returning it to its spot, smirking down at you.

"it's your lucky day; being with me means you get to use the elevator and not the stairs."

an elevator. you were unable to form a proper response. of course, you'd read about such a thing in a few of your old books, though you had yet to use one yourself. it wasn't very often you ever entered a building with two stories, let alone enough to warrant the installation of an elevator. you wondered why the little card was relevant, only to conclude a few moments later that it must be some sort of a key. then, you wondered why it would be restricted. if you were able to use the stairs without issue, what was the purpose of deeming the elevator off limits? if they accomplished the same thing, you would get to your intended destination regardless. maybe he felt that blocking off the stairs wasn't needed, given the likeliness of you getting lost before making it anywhere important.

for a brief minute or so, you found yourself feeling less than adequate. it wasn't that you felt an overwhelming need to impress anyone here, but it was quickly becoming evident that you truly knew so much less than he did. the rational part of your brain knew that there was no one to blame for this, and yet you couldn't help but think that you should've taken it upon yourself to learn more. just knowing how to read as fluently as you did was a feat in and of itself, but the accomplishment seemed meaningless in comparison to all the things you did not know. you didn't even want to think about how poor your math skills had to be next to his.

much to your surprise, it didn't take very long to reach the elevator either. you both stopped in front of two metal doors, causing you to stare curiously as he swiped the little card. you bit back a gasp as they pulled apart. when you were rushed down to the garden yesterday, you had assumed that these doors were different solely for decoration. remembering that johnny works in technology, you didn't feel that it would be very off to assume that he would have more of a futuristic sense of style. stepping into the little room though, you realized that this made much more sense.

each wall was mirrored, causing you to become lost in your reflection as the doors came to a close. you could see johnny press a button on the large panel to his right, though you failed to focus your attention on the action itself. you didn't bother to wrack your brain trying to figure out how the elevator began to move on its own just a few seconds later, as you were so entranced by the couple that stood before you. you were already well aware of the height difference, since it was so hard to ignore during a conversation with the man, but it was so much more interesting to see the both of you side by side. he looked like a giant standing next to your small frame.

his eyes met yours through the mirror, causing you to quickly look away. he only smiled at your response, waiting but a second more for the elevator to come to a stop at the correct floor. as the large doors slid open, he gestured for you to step out first. he wasn't worried about there being any trouble finding the library, as it was located directly across the hall. this in mind, he allowed you to lead the way, which you seemed more than happy to do.

he thought it was cute how your steps became so much lighter once the open doorway was in sight, how your eyes seemed to light up upon entering the large room. he watched as you stopped a few steps into the library, examining your features as you looked around. while he had been expecting a positive response, you surely didn't disappoint. your jaw was nearly on the floor as eyes the size of saucers scanned the maze of bookshelves.

just past the entrance was an area that resembled the common area; a large sofa sat opposite the door, which was paralleled by a coffee table of equal length. there was a chair positioned on either side, though the fourth side was left open. the furniture sat atop a beautiful floral rug, which distracted from the dull navy carpeting the rest of the room had been floored with. there were rows upon rows of shelves on the three sides in question, rows that seemed to go on for miles.

"a's start just to the right over there, i think," his voice rung in your ear, snapping you out of the book-induced trance you'd fallen into. he pointed in the general direction you needed to go, which was all the permission you needed to begin walking. you were too excited to respond, so you simply allowed him to follow your fast paced footsteps as you began searching for the book you wished to read.

you'd never seen so many books in your life, let alone all at once. your heart did jumping jacks in your chest at the realization that you could never possibly be bored here. maybe every storm cloud does have a silver lining. no matter how unhappy you might become in the future, you were certain that you would never run out of books to take your mind away from the world. you couldn't wait to get lost in each and every one.

"are you looking for anything specific?"

you could easily make out the curiosity woven into every word. his fancy shoes made a dull click clack noise against the thin carpet, the sound trailing behind you. it didn't sound like he was making an effort to match your swift pace, but then again, he didn't have to. his legs were so long, you knew he could easily match your fastest sprint with a brisk walk if he ever decided to try.

"no."

yes.

once you finally reached the aisle you were looking for, your eyes lit up. the section marked 's' was very large, but you were quick to find what you were looking for. given the letter combination, saint-exupéry happened to be toward the beginning of the section. however, it was out of your reach. even standing on the very tips of your toes, every book on the top shelf was just out of reach. sighing to yourself, you fell back on your heels.

"which one?" johnny asked, causing you to quickly turn your head.

you had been so lost in thought that the sound of his voice startled you, but his close proximity was even more surprising. there was maybe two inches between the both of you. his steady breaths felt warm against your neck even after you turned away. flustered, it took you a moment to respond. regardless of your feelings toward him, no man had ever been so close to you before; you weren't sure how to react.

"uh, it's on the top right there—the little prince," you answered finally. your voice came out a soft mumble.

he reached over your head and easily pulled your book away from the others. you assumed this was why he'd gotten so close, and you were correct. the moment he passed the book on to you was the moment he took two steps back. regardless, this did nothing to stifle the heat burning in your cheeks.

in an attempt to ignore it, you turned on your heels and began to make your way back to the lounge. he walked beside you now, most likely because he had a very good idea of where you were going. there was no reason to follow you around like a lost puppy otherwise.

"why that book?" he wondered aloud.

there was a part of his brain that worried that the question was a bit too personal, but he couldn't help himself. after watching you move through the library at such a fast pace, he had to ask. you were nearly jogging; that book had to be extremely significant to you for one reason or another. glancing down at you, he noticed that you couldn't take you eyes off of the cover.

"um..."

you allowed the sentence to fizzle out, unsure of how to begin, or if you even wanted to at all. having been pulled away from your past life, you hadn't decided whether you wanted to talk about it with anyone. you didn't have much of a story to tell, yet it still felt like something you should lock away entirely. though you didn't truly understand why, you dreaded the thought of letting anyone here get to know you. whether this was because they were undeserving or because acknowledging your past life made this one real, you didn't know.

weaving through the seemingly endless aisles, you allowed you gaze to fall upon the book again.

your brother was a bright young boy, almost too smart for his own good. he never tried to be a troublemaker—not the kind you felt the need to raise your guard around anyway—but he would risk anything to stimulate his mind. if he didn't have a book to stick his head into or a math subject to teach himself he fell into a painful state of boredom. he couldn't stand being bored; you remembered him declaring once before that not doing anything productive made him feel like his brain was rotting from the inside out.

"it's only a matter of time before it starts dripping out of my ears," he used to say.

to this day, you were able to recall in great detail the first time he got himself into trouble with your parents. he managed to drag you down with him without even trying to; your parents found you guilty before you even opened your mouth. all over a stupid book.

"it's not like he can even read it!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air.

while his intellect surpassed even the adults in your life, his age was really showing. just like any thirteen year old boy, he felt that your parents were just overreacting; that what he'd done surely didn't warrant this kind of response. after all, it wasn't like he'd truly hurt anyone. even if he really did want to, you knew he didn't have it in him. much like yours, his attacks were never physical, only verbal.

to an extent, you agreed with him. the law wasn't really enforced unless you had the money to make people care about your problems, so you doubted he would get into any real trouble. the most that could happen outside of the home would be some kind of beating from the people he'd stolen from, but you doubted they would even notice its absence. however, watching this situation unfold had begun to give you a headache and for that reason alone you felt he deserved to be punished. "you still stole it," your father shot back.

he stood his ground, arms crossed over his chest. your father was a short man, but he still managed to make himself look intimidating when he saw fit. his actions helped greatly; he had the tendency to raise his voice when things didn't go his way, or allow his eyes to narrow into a glare that would tear through anyone in his path. sometimes you hated him for being this way, but deep down you knew it wasn't his fault. working such long days with almost nothing in return was enough to drive any man crazy.

your mother though... you looked to your mother and saw nothing but disappointment painted across her face as she held the book in her hands. you frowned. for the first time in a very long time, you witnessed her express something other than exhaustion. she was so kind and caring, but she was empty. everyday was a constant fight to keep her family afloat through high tides and thunderstorms, but over the years the tiny raft she'd woven for those she loved most broke apart piece by piece. everyday you watched a tiny piece of her float far far away right along with it.

"how could you let this happen?"

you quickly averted your attention toward your father, your eyes widening as a wave of shock wracked your body. he glared down at you, but you didn't really understand why; you hadn't done anything wrong. and so you said nothing. instead, you nervously pulled at the hem of your shirt, wishing this would all go away. but this wasn't good enough. when you failed to respond, he only rose his voice even more. he pointed his finger at you accusingly, like you'd gone out and committed the crime yourself.

"you were supposed to be watching him! it's not like you have anything else to do. you don't work, can't go to school—what could you possibly have been doing that was more important than making sure your brother stayed safe at home?"

it was then that you began to cry. tears flowed down your cheeks in rivers as you tried so hard not to start hyperventilating. you never took criticism well—not when it was far from constructive. it felt like he had lunged at your throat and your windpipe was beginning to crack under the pressure. if he kept at it, you were certain you wouldn't be able to handle it at any capacity.

you refused to respond. what was the point in trying if your father wasn't even going to try to understand? how were you going to tell him that your idiot brother had managed to sneak out because you spent the day asleep on the cold, hard floor? how were you going to explain that you were so tired, that your body was so physically exhausted that there were periods of time where you were unable to stay awake during the day?

you couldn't, not when everyone else struggled just as hard as you did. you could already imagine his response, something about how he works himself to the bone and still manages to stay awake.

it was pointless.

you thought you were never going to be able to forgive your brother for that day. that night, when you were certain the rest of your family had fallen asleep, you picked the book up off of the floor where your mother had left it. it shouldn't be there; your brother shouldn't get the pleasure of reading it.

so you hid it. you remembered having to be so careful as you moved the heavy water pot, struggling to keep quiet as the lid began to gently crash into the rim. you then lifted up the broken floorboard beneath it and placed the book inside of the small opening before repositioning everything. that night, you laid next to your brother feeling content with your actions, yet no more happy overall.

for so many years, you avoided that book just as much as you did the negative memory associated with it, but after your family passed, something changed. it didn't feel like something you wanted to distance yourself from anymore, but rather something you wanted to hold close to your heart.

the first thing you did once the body collection team cleared your home was rush to the water pot. you were so hasty in trying to move it that it tipped over in the process, spilling what tiny bit of water was left all over your thighs. but holding that book in your hands, it didn't matter. there was a tiny piece of your brother you had yet to familiarize yourself with and you so desperately needed to. it felt like it was all you had left of him. for almost a month you read the book time and time again until the tears stopped; by then you had memorized the entire story word for word.

the little prince.

"someone that i used to know was really interested in it, that's all," you said finally.

you were too stuck inside your own head to notice how much time had passed, but by that point you'd reached the lounge already. the couch closest to you suddenly seemed very inviting, so much that you quickly sat down in the middle. your mind was still a bit too far away to realize what you'd done, but by that point it was too late.

johnny was left to seat himself on your right. much like before, this left very little space between the two of you. this got your attention immediately. your cheeks burned red hot as he rested his arm atop the edge of the couch behind you.

"would you mind if i read it?"

too stunned to form a proper sentence, you merely nodded and placed the book on his lap. when you took the quickest look up at him, you saw that he was smiling. it was a genuine smile, not one of those smug smirks you'd seen once or twice before. staring toward your lap now, you could see him using his free hand to quickly flip to page one.

oh. he was going to read it to you.

"you don't have to do all that," you quickly spoke up.

you did your best not to come across as rude. in reality though, you weren't sure whether or not you should've said anything at all. you had yet to decide if you were uncomfortable with someone like johnny making himself part of something so sacred, or if you were angry at yourself for letting his close proximity make you so flustered. no matter how much you tried though, you couldn't help it. it would've been this way with any boy, you told yourself, but the fact that it had to be him was so, so irritating.

the brunette scoffed lightly.

"you think i don't care enough to get to know you?" he quirked an eyebrow at you, only resulting in your gaze being averted elsewhere. a moment went by as he awaited a response that never came. "i don't want to be strangers; i want to know things about you. i think it's premature to say that things are most definitely going to be real between the two of us, but i would like to try, if you'd let me. at the very least i want to get to know you as a person. if this book is something you're into, i want to read it."

he watched as your eyes fell upon the open page. as hard as he tried, he couldn't make out the expression contorting your features. somewhere deep in his being he was hopeful you were considering what he said, though he knew not to get his hopes up. while he understood why you would do so, the idea of being wed to someone who refused to keep him any closer than arms length made him sad. while he despised it, it happened to be the normalcy and there was nothing he was able to do about it.

almost pleading with you, he quietly added, "for me? you can sleep for all i care; just entertain me for the rest of the hour, please."

very hesitantly, you nodded and allowed him to wrap his arm around your shoulders. he then pulled you close, causing your breath to catch in your throat for a moment. never before had you been held this way, nor had you witnessed your mother in such a position; this type of intimacy was something you'd only ever encountered in the few fairytales you'd been able to read in your youth.

as he began to read in that oh so soft tone, you found yourself lost in thought. the more you tried to think of an occurrence where this scenario had been normalized during your childhood, the less you were able to come up with. it would be humorous to call what you were required to have with johnny love, and yet it was likely the closest you would ever come to such a thing in your life time. marriage was more out of necessity than anything, you had come to realize--especially for women. each person was allowed to interpret societal norms however they so chose, though you felt that marriage offered women a degree of safety that living alone was unable to, while men were given sex and children in exchange. in all your years, you had yet to come across a couple that seemed to truly love one another beyond this platonic agreement.

having been a woman that had grown used to living alone, you understood the need for a man in the house. it wasn't that you were very strong on ancient gender roles, but that you had been forced to live with such extreme anxiety at all times. what few policemen there were didn't care about any crime that didn't have the potential to pad their pockets, so young women were often assaulted late at night on the lookout for whatever scraps of food they might be able to find and eat. even going out during the day made you nervous at times, depending on who was in sight. you'd even made a mental catalogue of which neighbors seemed especially sketchy and why, as you had learned not to trust anyone. living seemed to become extremely dangerous after your father passed away.

your eyes began to flutter closed as his low voice hung in your ear. being endlessly tired was not something that was new to you, for each and every day you felt as though you could sleep for hours and wake up feeling like your limbs were packed full of sand. the man beside you wasn't helping either; the steady sound of his heartbeat was the perfect backdrop to your thoughts. perhaps he noticed, though you couldn't be bothered to open your eyes in order to check. instead, you allowed him to slowly brush his palm over your head, almost as if he was petting you. it was endearing in a way, though you would never say so out loud.

counting down the days, you realized there weren't too many left until the wedding to come. jisung had brought it up earlier, but the subject matter made you uneasy, so you did your best to tune it out, just as you did the rest of his blather. normally you soak up information like a sponge, but the young boy had begun to babble about who all he thought was attending, which wasn't something you cared to know. the thought of being trapped in a room with at least half of the world's most wealthy made a knot tie itself oh so tight within your stomach. not because you felt the need to impress any of these people, but because you had spent your entire life drowning in poverty while these people had very little to worry about. your main concern was finding a way to keep from choking one of them to death on your way down the aisle.

on top of that, it sounded as if the majority of the relatives that were to be in attendance didn't like the idea of your marriage in general. jisung had recalled chatting with a young servant named yeri over lunch, who apparently dealt with all of the invitations. he relayed that she was tasked with calling each household personally, so she was able to get a feel of how they had received the news. as he ran the brush through your wild locks, he snickered and told you not to worry about johnny's family, as she told him that over half of those she spoke with sounded very irritated.

"i think it's about the money, honestly," he'd laughed. his slender fingers then wove themselves through your hair, parting it in three at the nape of your neck. "that's really weird to think about, isn't it? maybe i've just been poor for so long that money doesn't really seem like something to pine over, but i think it's kind of ridiculous when people that have more money than i'll ever know what to do with are so upset that they're not able to come into more of it.'

in a way, you thought the boy was right. while you felt that greed was almost amusing coming from those who already have a great deal of money, you understood the need to pine over it. you couldn't even count the amount of times you had gone to bed hungry, as well as had to function starving the next day. even just a few dollars would've been able to keep you fed, even if only for the smallest period of time. maybe the issue wasn't that jisung had been poor for so long, but that he had all of his needs met for such a long while. in all honesty, you understood the want to fight tooth and nail for every dollar that came your way, as much as it pained you to admit.

suddenly, you felt johnny's chest move beneath you, quickly rising and falling as a gentle chuckle escaped his lips. even still, you pretended to be asleep.

"what's wrong?" he questioned, nudging you slightly. "you're gonna give yourself wrinkles or something."

you swore under your breathe. your features relaxed then. every crease in your forehead slowly evened out, then the rest of your face fell in line too. it wasn't something that you'd done consciously, though you did understand why he would question such a thing. you weren't entirely sure what it must've looked like, but judging from his reaction, you were likely pouting like a child.

"how long until we have to get married?" you asked, peeling both of your eyes open.

"two days," he responded simply.

looking at the book in his lap, you noticed that he had gotten through a handful of pages. telling time had never been something you were very good at, but you guessed it had been at least ten or fifteen minutes since he had began. that was the beauty of being lost inside your head, you thought. you were free from the confinement of time, as it mattered very little when you had other things popping out of every little nook and cranny your brain had to offer. there was always something new to dissect and pick apart without having to worry about how much time you were wasting. it was nice, especially when wasting your time with him meant he was unable to bother you for very long.

instead of awaiting a response he knew would never come, he simply joked, "why, are you excited?"

"i'm thinking," you said, turning to look up at him.

you weren't sure if you wanted to continue. you weren't sure if you wanted to let him in, to let him know what was on your mind. there was a lot on your mind. the thought of being kept here forever with no one to talk to on a deeper level than the gossip jisung liked to bring to your vanity made you sad, though it wasn't like you were having very deep conversations with the kindergarteners you taught back home. however, the brunette's actions irritated you to no end. you were afraid that letting him in would mean to let go of what he had done, which wasn't something that you were ready to do yet. you weren't sure it would ever be something you were going to do.

the hardest part to grasp was that jisung had been right; as much as you wanted to hate the man for his means of getting you there, you would never be able to hate him for putting clothes on your body and food in your mouth. thinking back to the large breakfast you had woken up to that morning, you frowned. you tried and tried, but you couldn't be upset about that. sighing to yourself, you finally came to terms with the fact that finding comfort in another person wouldn't be so terrible, since you were unable to go anywhere else. it was a given that you would be exceptionally picky with what information you felt he was worthy of having access to, but baby steps wouldn't hurt.

however, you really did like his nervousness, at least in the sense that he knew better than to pry. he waited silently for you to continue, still absentmindedly petting the top of your head. he had been timid about such an action at first, but once he realized you weren't going to bite his hand off, he became more confident about continuing. he had a very soft smile tugging at his plump lips, though you could see the angst hiding in those chocolate brown eyes. it was as if he wasn't sure of what you were going to say, like that scared him.

truthfully, it did. johnny's biggest fear was that you would never get over any kind of resentment toward him you may have. this was a feeling he understood, and he very much understood why you would be feeling this way toward him, but he at least hoped the both of you would be able to find some kind of middle ground. he was just as fond of the arrangement as you were; maybe even more so, since he had grown up watching it play out before his eyes.

his mother never really did overcome her hatred for his father. perhaps this was because times were different when she was younger. she had the pleasure of experiencing life before the war; she knew freedom without having poverty cripple the entirety of her family. even in the midst of the violence and war, she still found a way to be happy without having to rely on money to do so. because of this, being pulled away from her parents crushed her. she wasn't like you; she didn't find comfort in a full belly, nor did she see it as a reason to excuse what had happened to her. she loved her son very much, though she never even made an attempt to hide the fact that she cared for her husband very little. in fact, johnny often suspected that she only agreed to have a child as a form of escapism. he always wondered if that was why she insisted on spending all of her free time with him, even while he was being pestered by countless tutors.

maybe it was selfish to wish for you to get over a traumatic experience in order to be happy with him, but he didn't know any other way of living. what he wanted more than anything was for you to be happy, though he didn't think this was something he would be able to communicate correctly without making a pig of himself. he understood the severity of the culture difference between the both of you and didn't want to come across as arrogant, especially because he knew that he was. he didn't intend to be, but he wasn't naïve.

"i want to hate you so badly," you admitted finally. for once, you locked eyes with him. you wanted him to see you, to know that you weren't exaggerating in order to toy with his nerves. perhaps you didn't know the first thing about talking to boys, but you knew a great deal about communicating your feelings to the emotionally ignorant. you often had conversations of this nature with you brother when he grew old enough, as you found that talking took far less energy than fighting did. the man stopped petting you then, his hand simply resting at the nape of your neck. you rolled your eyes, watching him squirm a little in his seat. "you can keep doing that thing if you want, it doesn't really bother me one way or another. even if it did, i think i could punch you in the face and you probably wouldn't do anything violent to retaliate; i probably would've done that by now."

he wanted to argue, but he knew he couldn't. you were right. even if he hated you with every fiber of his being, he could never bring himself to raise a hand to a woman. just the mere thought of what he had to do to you already made him sick to his stomach. instead, he simply began his hand motions once more.

"i want to hate you so badly," you repeated, huffing a bit. your eyes drifted off, directing your glare at whichever bookshelf you spotted first. "i've been thinking about it a lot and i don't think you have any idea how much it hurts that for the life of me i haven't been able to find a way to make you into more than just a minor annoyance. i'm irritated at the circumstances of our meeting, but the more i think about it, the less i'm able to find you terrible. you should repulse me, but really, what did i have waiting for me back home? loneliness and starvation? i try to remember that i was making something of myself by educating children that weren't able to bathe most days, let alone pick up a book on their own, but it seems a little bittersweet when the skeleton i see in the mirror is all i have to show for it. i want to hate your guts for what you did, but how can i when you've given me everything i never had?"

this time, he pulled away completely. he recognized your hurt, yet he was unsure about what to do in response. he knew that honesty was in order, but these were not the kinds of conversations he was accustomed to. johnny was taught to suppress his feelings as opposed to expressing them, as his father thought that to share one's inner feelings was a very feminine thing to do. even i love you's were assumed and not spoken. an attempt was made in explaining his point of view on your journey to his home, but even then, he had barely scratched the surface of what was buried deep in his heart.

"i'm sorry for that," he began, his features slowly contorting with the first wave of distress that wracked his brain. "i'm not really sure what to say aside from that. i understand that you're upset and i understand why, honestly. i figured you would be, which i guess is why i've been trying to overcompensate with material items. i don't know if that makes me even more of a shitty person, but i figured that the least i can do is make sure you have what you need... i'm not going to sit here and pretend like i'm your savior for doing that, nor am i going to force you to like me. do i want you to? of course i do. i hope we can be friends at the very least, but i'm always going to respect your wants and-"

"don't you have a job to be getting back to?"

you wanted to scream. he was making it so hard by being a decent person, so much that you had half a mind to punch him square in the nose. you knew it was terrible to wish he were a worse person, but it would make your frustration so much more valid. it was very clear that his intention wasn't to confuse you even further, but that was the result regardless. you weren't sure where you stood, only that the ground you wished to be upon was very far out of reach.

he shook his head, a smile teasing the corners of his mouth. while he was sure your irritation was very genuine, he was relieved to see that it wasn't likely to grow into something more. the last thing he wanted to do was dig himself a deeper hole to fall into.

"i don't have to do anything; it's more that i choose to get up and go to work everyday. if i really wanted to, i could easily appoint someone to take on my workload without losing any personal profit," he explained, closing the book in his lap and placing it on the coffee table. not only did he want to cut your date short before your annoyance really began to blossom, he could see how tired you'd become. keeping this in mind, he was slow to stand up and extend a hand toward you. there was a fleeting look of hesitance that washed over the irises of your eyes, but you took it nonetheless. while helping you to your feet, he continued. "i like my job--the techy stuff, anyway. having to be the bad guy all the time is honestly really stressful, but i guess that's just part of the package, right?"

though it felt like the question was directed more toward himself than anything, you took it upon yourself to answer anyway. your hand still resting in his, you allowed him to guide you back to the elevator.

"not necessarily," you responded, watching as he swiped his keycard once more. following him into the elevator, you took a few seconds to piece together the rest of your thoughts. it wasn't very easy given how little you knew about what it was he did at work, but you felt that his mindset was very flawed regardless of his job title. "if you're really as in charge as you claim to be, i don't understand why it has to be so terrible for the people that work for you, if that's what you're trying to say."

"you don't get it," he muttered softly.

he used his index finger to press another one of the shiny metal buttons on the panel before him. while doing so, he did his best to avoid your gaze. he didn't even want to think about how he must've sounded complaining about such problems, as they seemed so silly in retrospect. he felt so guilty complaining about the way he happened to make his money knowing you came from the situation you did. in a way, he felt like he had slapped you across the face, though he would never even dream of doing such a thing.

"no, i don't," you quipped. your voice was very level, yet you couldn't help but let go of his hand. it seemed like he wasn't really in the mood to hold yours any more than you were his. "i don't know anything about science, or engineering, or even how to count without using my fingers, but i know what it's like to be poor. my father worked for someone like you. one days worth of your earnings could probably feed a family like mine for at least a week, but instead big companies throw pennies at their workers and demand that we make it stretch far enough. maybe other decisions wouldn't feel so weighted if you knew your employees were going home to more than scraps from the garbage, but you're choosing not to find that out."

johnny remained silent. there was nothing he could say to refute your argument; you were right. this was an issue that was far easier to avoid before your arrival, especially now that you were choosing to voice your concerns. the money his business produced made it very easy to ignore the conditions certain staff members were likely living in. in all honesty, he'd never even given it much thought. his father had always preached that they were not responsible for anything that went on outside of the workplace, though he was neglecting to take into account that the things they provided during work hours directly contributed to everything that took place before and after. he felt ashamed now, having this thrown back in his face.

"you're right. i'm sorry."

the elevator opened up after what felt like forever, much to your relief. after taking two steps forward, it felt like the man had wrapped his hands around both of your ankles and dragged you back ten. you were well aware that the difference in upbringings might make conversation a bit difficult at times, but you weren't expecting him to be so ignorant to the state of the world beyond the little bubble he existed in. all it served to do was dull what little sparkle had managed to find you today.

"i think i remember how to get back to my room from here," you promptly informed him.

"you're sure?" he asked softly, to which you merely nodded.

you didn't know if there was really anything left to say. you were far too exhausted to entertain him any longer; all you wanted to do was fall into bed and sleep until you no longer felt the tiny pinprick of sadness in your chest. 

perhaps tomorrow he would manage to redeem himself, you told yourself. after all, he'd already made it very clear that he had more than enough money to do so.

author’s note: i’m so sorry this took so long ): i’ve really been struggling with my mental health lately, but i’m going to do my best to be more consistent with my uploads. please let me know if you’d like to be added to my taglist (:

#johnny has so much character growth in his future #hydrangea ; #johnny seo #nct johnny #nct scenarios #nct fanfic #johnny scenarios #nct angst #nct series #nct stories #Park Jisung #nct jisung #nct au #ceo au