#the way it got rid of half of my tags. it's giving over-writer | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

ladymarycrawley · 2 years

Text

Insatiable - Mason Mount

There she is- the smuttest piece I wrote so far in my young career as a football writer

I hope you enjoy (bear with me since English is not my first language ✨)

Tag list: @masonxomount

@footballffbarbiex hope you like it 🥰

Warning: smut, very smut

___________________________________________

Is it even possible for a single human to be this perfect and beautiful? Apparently yes and Mason is the example of that.

He looks like heaven to you, notably in this last period where his hair got fluffier, he let his beard grow and, most importantly, got rid of that hateful goatee.

Not a day goes by that you don't stand there staring at him like an idiot: he could have been doing the most normal and boring things like playing Fifa, texting on his phone or simply sleeping that you'd get lost in his features.

You would usually be sitting next to him, with your hand holding your head or admiring at distance, with your body against the doorframe.

The most embarrassing part of it all is when he catches you doing that, as it is now. He's been on the phone talking to his mum for like an hour, walking around the house. In the meanwhile you are sitting at the kitchen table with your laptop and working sheets spread all over the wooden surface.

You should have been working and, to be fair, that's what you've been doing all day but you stopped about half an hour ago staring once again at your boyfriend: the way he smiles and laughs at his family's jokes, him playing with his lips when he tries to focus on the conversation, him passing his hand through his brown hair noticing then the way his stubble caresses his jaws, the wrinkles forming at the corner of his eyes everytime he smiles...the worst part is that you're so involved in this game that you don't even realize when you're starting it.

Mason catches your dreamy eyes and looks at you with a questioning look, softened by an amused smile.

Shit he caught me! You think, widening your eyes immediately and blushing.

In order to bring everything back to normal, you lowered your gaze back on your laptop's screen. It was too late.

Mase hangs up and walks towards the chair where you are sitting. You pretend not to notice him and try to focus on your fingers typing on the keyboard.

"Were you staring at me?" He asks you teasingly, moving a strand of hair away from your shoulder.

"Nope, what makes you think that?"

"Don't know, maybe the fact that I had your eyes on me the whole time"

A fake laugh spontaneously leaves your lips as you shrug your shoulders.

"You're not the centre of the world, Mount" What you have just pronounced is the fakest sentence ever, because Mason was the centre of your world indeed.

"Really?"

"Yep" The short conversation between you two happens with you avoiding his eyes while he's just piercing your soul with his.

His hand grabs your hair in a ponytail and pulls it back so your face has to finally meet his.

"I know you were staring at me, stop being a brat"

You are starting to perceive how this whole situation will end.

"Ok, fine: I was staring at you, so?"

Those words get you an hungry kiss: his lips started a lively fight against yours, with his hand still holding your hair.

Your shy moans are muffled against his insatiable mouth.

A trail of kisses soon starts from your lips, down to your jaw, ending on your neck.

You tilt your head back, giving him easier access to the sensitive spots on your neck while your hand messes with his hair, pushing him closer to you.

"Let's go upstairs" You ask him, in order to lay on a more comfortable surface.

Mason in response sweeps away all your working sheets and lifts you up on the table, settling himself between your legs.

"The table will work" You moan in his ear as his hands wander beneath your shirt, unclasping your bra that soon reaches all the papers on the floor.

Your legs are firmly wrapped around his waist, with your heels pressed against his bum.

His lips suck on your neck, leaving red marks behind, before going down to your cleavage where he bites and soothes the reddening skin with kisses.

Sometimes the way he makes you feel embarrasses you: hardly 5 minutes have passed and that man had already made you a moaning mess, you just wanted him to fuck mercilessly. You wanted to feel every fiber of his body inside yours.

You tilt your head back, eyes shut and moans escaping your lips, your left hand pulling his hair while the right one holds onto his shoulder.

"How much do you want me?"

"So fucking much" You manage to say but it requires all the strength left in you to compose that sentence.

Mason gently pushes you back so you can lay on your back but you use your elbows to support yourself so you can look at him working his magic on your body; it makes you feel like having a front row seat to your favourite show.

His eyes get darker with lust, his face similar to the concentrated one he pulls on while warming up for an upcoming match.

He lifts up your shirt leaving sloppy kisses on your abdomen, around your belly button and pausing to lower your sweatpants. With one hand he moves your thigh closer to his lips, to begin nipping and licking your inner thigh.

You push his head nearer to where you need him the most, bucking your hips against his face.

"Mase I - I need you"

He ignores your plea as his mouth is now sucking you through your soaked slip.

To help him work better, you try to take your panties off but he slaps your hand.

"Keep your hands to yourself, baby"

"Rip these fucking slip off" You order him: wrong move. He slaps your butt cheek making you whimper "Be quiet Y/N: you lied to me, you've been a bad girl so you now need to be punished"

"Mason…"

"Shh" Mason aggressively slams his lips against yours while he fucks you with his fingers. "I'm gonna fuck you so well you won't tell me lies ever again" He roughly whispers before biting down on your neck.

Your screams are so loud you're slightly ashamed of yourself

"Mason, please -"

Since he understands your climax is getting closer, he abruptly removes his two fingers from inside you while his tongue takes its place.

That was the kiss of death: you squealed so loud you could feel your eyes getting wet with tears.

The only movement your body is able to do is wrapping your legs around his head as you try to push it even further into you.

"Fuck baby" You don't know which words use to beg him anymore, you need him so fucking bad.

With a loud pop, Mason gets off your clitoris and goes back up to your breasts, still covered by your wool shirt.

First the left nipple then the right one he stimulates them with a speed movement of his lips combined with his tongue.

The last thing you care about are the purple marks you will most certainly have on your body the next few days. You know you'll hate Mason for those, he will make some naughty jokes but for now you don't worry about it.

He lowers his trousers, followed by his boxers to finally give the thing you have been craving the most.

A few pumps of his dick before slamming it inside of you. It causes you to release a loud moan, eyes shut since the pleasure is too high to cope with.

Mason stays still for a few seconds before fucking you with all the strength in his body.

Each thrust gets more intense than the previous one, it's just a matter of seconds for your orgasm to kick in.

You'd like to encourage him to go faster but no words leave your lips, you're unable to speak.

You throw your left arm around his neck as you use the other one to prop yourself up on the counter (and to give him a better angle too).

Mason's lips play once again with your nipples, sucking the skin between your breasts.

"Mase I -" Your orgasm hits you as a tide falling upon the shore. Mason comes too with a deep groan, his thrusts getting slower.

Ha falls on top of you.

"Fuck" You hiss as you try to catch your breath.

Mason was a panting mess, his back going up and down with heavy breaths.

"You know I could go for a second round…"

He lifts his head up knitting his eyebrows together.

"Could you?"

You bite on your bottom lip with a smirk. Your legs still wrapped around his figure are now on his back, your heels pressed right down his shoulder blades to push him closer to you.

It's now Mason's turn to smirk, brushing his index against your lips.

"You're insatiable"

Without looking away from his beautiful brown eyes, you lick and start sucking on his finger.

"Fuck babe you're so beautiful"

"Can we go to bed this time?"

He places his hands on your bum to lift you up in his arms, headed towards your bedroom.

"I think I'll bail on Ben tonight" He takes his t-shirt off - finally you thought- placing then your legs on his shoulders.

"Were you supposed to go to Ben's tonight?"

"Yeah, we were going to try some new games that came out yesterday" Each word is followed by quick kisses to your groin and inner thigh.

He looks at you with a frown as you remove your legs from his shoulders.

You push him back on the mattress as you straddle him.

"I have better games planned for you" You give a peck to his lips, before licking them and focusing your attention on his chest.

As he did to you before, you pepper kisses all over his toned abs and breast, swirling your tongue against his nipples.

Mason breathes heavily.

"Yeah, I definitely have better things to do"

You smile at his remark, pushing your hips against his.

"Fuck Y/N"

Your lips go back to bite his neck. "Let me ride you, baby"

Mason quickly places his hands on your hips in order to position you on his dick. You align your entrance to it just to tease him a bit before letting him inside of you.

You tilt your head back and whimper, as he looks up at you with his arms folded under his head.

"Let me enjoy the show"

You start moving on top of him. Mason places his hands back on your hips to help your grinding but you take them away to put them on your tits. You keep them firmly against your skin covering them with yours, as he groans shifting to a seated postion to give your thrusts a new angle.

One hand stays on your left breast while the other one presses on your lower back to help you get steady.

"Cum baby, cum for me again"

Mason closes his eyes and opens his mouth to release a loud moan that precedes his orgasm, soon followed by yours.

As your moves slow down, your boyfriend wraps both his arms around your lower back in a tender embrace. You kiss him slowly and softly as your weary bodies finally get still.

As you break your kiss you smile, brushing your nose against his, your arms tangled around his neck.

"What did make you so horny?" He asks with a slight smirk.

"You. You make me so horny" You blushed a little at your own words.

Mason gets comfortable placing his hands behind him on the mattress, distancing himself a little from you.

He's looking at you with his cocky expression, that smirk that drove you crazy.

You now try to hide yourself, a bit embarrassed: you are acting all shy while you were still straddling him and he was still inside you.

"Don't say those things or we'll have to go for a third round"

It's now your turn to get comfortable, assuming the same posture as him.

"Just give me some time to recover. You're still inside of me after all"

Mason laughs and lays down on the bed, as you two try to untangle your sweaty bodies.

He grabs his phone placed in the bed side table, cussing when he sees some texts and a missed call from Ben.

As you get back from the bathroom, you go back to bed beside him, wrapping your left arm around his waist.

"What?"

"It's Ben…"

You look at the lit screen of his phone then look back at him: his damn face, so perfect, so irresistible.

"If you stay home, I'll be giving you the best blow job ever"

At first Mason looks at you with wide eyes then a grin appears on his lips.

He sends his best friend a quick voice message. "Sorry mate but I'm not going to make it tonight, kinda busy. See you tomorrow"

Then he throws his phone somewhere over the bed, making you giggle. He turns to you as he gives you an open mouthed kiss.

You know it's time to get ready for a third round.

#I'm kinda ashamed of this #sorry if it's too much I know it kinda sucks #mason mount #mason mount x reader #mason mount smut #mason mount imagine #football imagine #chelsea #chelsea fc #premier league #england national team #england nt #chelsea imagines #england nt imagines

261 notes · View notes

nctsworld · 3 years

Text

reigniting

SUMMARY ⇾ your hate for your dance captain (and ex-best friend) melts and evolves into something more for the night. WARNINGS‌ ‌⇾‌ smut (near the end), car s*x, swearing, angst in backstory RATING ⇾ mature FOR ⇾ @markleesflathead

AUTHOR’S NOTE ⇾ yes i’m bitter that most of my fics in ask form don’t show up in tag so i might have to post them as individual fics hhh || @markleesflathead idk how this ended up into car s*x but i’m sorry if it isn’t what you really expected slkfmd also i’m v flattered to be one of your fave writers *_* thanks for the bday wishes!!

“I missed this.”

Mark suddenly says into the air after catching his breath from all the laughing he just did. With the hand that’s been resting on the steering wheel since he parked the car fifteen minutes ago, he swipes his thumb against it.

Your laughter subsides too, turning your head in the passenger seat to get a good look at him.

The closest street lamp isn’t near enough to cast a light to see all his features clearly, but you don’t need much lighting to see the waver behind his bespectacled face, nor the way his Adam’s apple bobs.

“I missed you,” he whispers softly, then matches your eyes with a tilt of his head.

The beginning was simple. You and Mark, best friends since middle school, about to attend the same university and were going to do everything together, including extracurriculars.

Which included the university’s main competitive hip-hop dance team, since both of you were on your high school’s too.

From what you heard from upperclassmen, every year, the team offered at least five spots open. Of course, Mark and you were confident in yourselves and each other to make the team.

But during your first year, only one spot was available on the team.

The straining of your friendship began to slowly occur, since you saw less of each other in order to train more individually for the auditions.

And when the auditions happened, there was a new tension between Mark and you. Still friends, but competitiveness was a prevalent wall between you two.

The wall grew larger, tangled with vines of jealousy and bitterness, when Mark received the spot, not you.

Both parties tried hard to keep the friendship afloat, but it eventually came crashing down.

“You’re just fucking jealous that I got in and you didn’t.”

“Yeah,” you said. “and I should be, because I’m the better dancer.”

“As if.” he scoffed. He spat out the next words venomously—

“If you were better they would’ve chose you, but you’ve just never been as good of a dancer as me.”

That was the last time you spoke to Mark... for a while, at least.

When second year came by, you decided to prove him wrong and obtain a spot on the team. Successfully, you did, but partway through the term, the captain dropped out and, to your dismay, Mark was given captaincy.

Fast-forward to today, Mark constantly gave you shit during practices and you knew it was personal.

Sure, you could’ve quit, but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. However, you always did wonder why he didn’t decide to kick you off the team when he had the power to do so.

Following one practice, Mark ordered you to come by the studio on a separate night for a talk. He claimed it to be extra training, but you were mentally prepared for him to finally remove you from the team.

However, you were wrong and the unexpected happened—the wall between you two began to crumble. The hostile professionalism during the extra session grew into an area of familiarity, remnants of a lost friendship. After the session, Mark swallowed his pride and apologized about what he said back then, even offering to take you out to dinner.

During the meal, both of you caught each other up on the last year or so, and at the end of the night, Mark drove you home.

Laughing, smiling, and talking with you like the last couple of years were a nightmare faded into nothingness.

And you didn’t mind it, because you missed him too.

But instead of telling him that, you nibble on your bottom lip and rock your head forward with a small smile.

Continuing the conversation from where you left off, after Mark agreed to stop giving you such a hard time during practice, you say, “Can I ask you to stop doing one more thing during practice?”

“What’s up?”

“Please, for the love of God,” you say with your hands clasped in a prayer. “Stop rolling your shirt sleeves up, it’s terribly distracting.”

A hearty chuckle escapes from Mark, leaning his head back into the headrest. “Why is it distracting?”

“You know why!” you exclaim, beaming. “I know you do it on purpose!”

He cocks an eyebrow playfully. “And why would I do that?”

Rolling your eyes, you reply, "Because I know the oh-so humble Mark Lee still loves it when he gets attention."

The driver runs his tongue over the bottom of his teeth in a smirk, hand still on the steering wheel.

"And what about you?” he retorts. “You must still have a thing for arms if you think it's distracting."

You gasp inaudibly, unsure of how he could still remember that tidbit after all these years, and you twist your upper body to inch near him, glaring at him accusingly. "Is that why you do it?"

"Maybe, maybe not..." he shrugs nonchalantly. Leaning closer to you, parroting your stance, he adds in a teasing whisper along with a squint of his eyes.

"You'll never know."

There’s a passing beat as your eyes lock, one that carries the weight of the years of loving each other as friends, hating each other as enemies, working together as dancers, and everything in between.

A moment of connection that represents what everything has been working towards to for a long time, even if you never thought you’d have the chance to ever have Mark in your life again.

His look falters for a millisecond, flicking to your lips, then straight back to your eyes as if he shouldn’t have done that.

The corner of your mouth lifts slightly.

"Are you going to kiss me, Mark,” you whisper daringly. “or are you going to keep staring?"

You’re awfully aware of both of your breathing. Yours, heavy and wanting. His, light and barely existent.

"How do you know I wanna kiss you?" he croaks, a small crack in his voice underlying his question.

Because maybe a little part of you always wondered what it’d be like for Mark Lee to want to kiss you since you were kids—for him to send you that anxious starry-eyed yearning that could send your heart into cardiac arrest.

And now, from first-hand experience, you know it really does.

You hold your breath and question back—

"Am I wrong?”

The tension in the air snaps. He’s fast to cup your cheeks and crash his mouth into yours. Soft lips move in tandem with yours as you rest your hands on his shoulders, lightly tugging at his body.

The first, tender kiss is quickly thrown aside, along with your shirts. The desire escalates immensely and you’re suddenly straddling him in the driver’s seat, now pushed back to give extra room for both individuals.

"Should we slow down?" you ask offhandedly at one point while Mark’s mouth leaves a hot trail down the side of your neck. At the same time, his fingers glide and grip onto your bare waist, making their way to grasp your breasts.

Mark jerks away from your neck and carefully caresses the back of your head. "Do you want to?"

"Mm-mm,” you hurriedly shake your head and drag him into another strong kiss.

The exciting rush continues to run through both bodies present. When you return to the passenger seat momentarily to rid of your pants, Mark shimmies his bottoms and briefs down to his ankles and pulls a condom from his glove compartment.

“How often do you have car sex?” you joke, straddling him once again after he wraps himself.

In his reclined position, Mark looks up and scans your body quickly, both indulging in your natural beauty and in disbelief that you are here with him right now, after all these years.

“Hey, a guy’s gotta be safe—fuck, God.”

All quips and logic are thrown out the window when you sit on his length.

You have one hand pressed against his defined stomach, the other on the car ceiling. Bouncing with no end in sight, you allow the pleasure to enrapture your senses. Muffled whimpers reverberate against the inner side of your wrist as you feel him deeply with every movement.

On the other hand, Mark tries his best to keep his focus on you, but the intensity breaks him down. He groans in pace with your moving body, and he tightens his hold on your waist.

“Mark—” you cry. You rip your hand from the car roof and, without thought, frantically push it against the driver’s window, smudging the frost that all your collective breathing conjured up. You’re surprisingly already coming undone, and so is your lover beneath you.

“I’m close,” he pants thickly. His hazy gaze attempts to meet your half-lidded eyes, but you’re losing control. All you can do is barely nod and as you’re about to bounce more vigorously, Mark releases your waist and raises himself upward, clutching your back and neck to lock lips fiercely with yours.

You barely can thrust against him, but you don’t need to at this point, because the kiss is simply enough to draw out his climax.

You’re pulled back to reality after a few moments, panting with your foreheads tipped against one another.

“And to counter your question from before,” Mark grins, still breathing heavily. “I’ll only stop rolling my sleeves up during practice if you stop tying your shirt up to show off your waist.”

You try to stifle a smirk, but it can’t be helped. You reply to him with a flutter of the tip of your nose against his.

“No deal, captain.”

nctsworld’s birthday week celebration!

#mark lee #mark lee fluff #mark lee smut #mark lee x reader #mark lee imagines #mark lee scenarios #mark lee fanfic #nct smut #nct fluff #nct scenarios #nct imagines #nct fanfic #nct 127 fanfic #nct 127 smut #nct 127 imagines #nct 127 fluff #nbwc2021 #nctcreations

803 notes · View notes

0606-hyuck · 3 years

Text

a letter to my lover | zhong chenle

♡ dear y/n, i’m writing you this letter in the hopes that it gets to you well. our relationship has been tumultuous, that’s for sure, and i thought it was high time i wrote you a letter detailing all the times you said "i love you" that are important to me.

genre: chenle x reader, angst, fluff, supernatural!chenle, vampire!chenle

warnings: violence, blood/gore, death (of animals), guns, general vampirism

word count: 4.1K

tagging: the lovely @roses-of-the-moon ♡ @mora134340 @ncteology + @nct-writers

Y/N,

The first time you said “I love you”, I thought I was going to have to kill you.

That night we first met, I was not in a good state. My family had recently been forced to move from the commune we had called home for twenty years by your kind, and we were essentially on the run in search of a new, friendlier place to stay. Because we were vampires, my family could only travel efficiently during the night and so we were tired and very, very hungry. My mother, older brother, and I had managed to find a dingy little abandoned warehouse to stay in and we’d been taking turns to go out and feed on the wildlife near our new home. When I met you, I was scouring the forest for something to eat. A deer, a rabbit, a fox - I would eat literally anything at this point. Shit, even a frog would have been enough to sustain me until my family joined the vampire commune rumoured to be near your city.

Running almost blindly through the forest due to the large trees blocking out any moonlight, I had picked up the scent of what I assumed to be a wild deer and was doing my best to catch up to it while working on extremely low levels of energy. As a half-vampire, my senses were not as strong as a pure vampire even when they were functioning at normal capacity, let alone when I had been starving for days. I’d never ever been this hungry before in my whole life - I could feel my vision clouding and the bloodlust taking over my mind, pure adrenaline and craving coursing through my veins.

After a few moments the deer was within my sights and a couple of seconds later I was close enough to pounce on top of it and send us both rolling through the damp forest floor. The poor creature had no idea what was happening - one second it was standing peacefully alone and the next it was being chased by an inhuman creature, unaware of what its fate would be. Trust me, I did feel guilty killing the poor thing, as I’d only ever fed off of willing mortals at the old commune. But as my fangs sunk into the deer’s neck and its hot blood flowed into my mouth, down my throat, and to every fibre of my being, remorse was the last thing I was feeling.

I remember the sensation of the deer’s blood invading my body and causing my muscles to strain and stretch, my vision to unblur, my ears and nose to pick up sensations I hadn’t noticed before, and my mind to clear. The starvation I suffered before was horrendous, but the absolute feeling of pure clarity when I was finally able to feed made it all worth it. I wiped my mouth of the animal blood dripping from my lips and that was the moment I detected you. My newly heightened senses alerted me to your presence behind me, and as I slowly turned around on my heel I was preparing myself for my second kill of the evening.

I expected a human, of course, but I was imagining an older male with a gun and a desperation to end my life, not, well...you. I remember making eye contact with you and being stunned frozen by the fact I saw no callousness in them, only fear and surprise. The way your eyes darted from my own, to the deer carcass, and then back to my bloodied mouth let me know that you’d most likely just witnessed me feeding from the animal, and I couldn’t have that, now could I?

However, I didn’t kill you that night. I definitely should have, if I were abiding by the rules of vampirism that state all witnesses to the supernatural should be exterminated, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Yes, humans were the reason my family had to leave our house in the middle of the night and yes, your kind were the reason we had to watch our friends be shot as we fled, but I really did not want to give into the violence. I was, technically, similar to you due to my father being a human. I couldn’t kill someone who shared the same blood as me. Plus, what would I gain by killing you, too? It wouldn’t bring my friends back. My family and I would be on the move to the new commune soon anyway, so I’d probably never see you again and I could sprint away from here and not worry about you.

I turned to leave, to flee off into the darkness, when you spoke again. You called for me to stay, and when I did you explained you weren’t afraid of me and simply wanted to talk. You said you were a part of the occult community - I had never heard that word before - you told me it meant you believed in the supernatural. I was shocked, I wasn’t aware there was a whole community of people who knew about us. Obviously, humans had to know about my kind as they were the ones who committed the massacre on us, and also my father had to have known about us because he, you know, married and had kids with one. I just did not realise knowledge about vampires was so widespread.

You suddenly blurted out “I love you, I love your kind, and I don’t think we should be afraid of each other.” Through your secret occult community you had heard about the massacre at my commune and that was the reason you were in the forest that night - you were risking your life to try to help my kind start a better life.

You offered for me to stay in a little office you had out the back of your family home which was on the edge of the forest, and I found the offer too irresistible to deny. Good thing I decided not to kill you, because you turned out to be the best thing that happened to me.

The second time you said “I love you”, I had just saved your life.

Honestly, Y/N, my mother and my brother were unhappy to hear that I’d wandered so far from the warehouse that I’d run into a human, but like me they could not bring themselves to turn down your offer. That night, I’d taken you back to the warehouse, explained the situation to my family, and then we’d headed through the forest back to your place. Your parents were sleeping, obviously, and you’d hurried us into the office space, given us an old mattress from your garage, blankets, a water cooler, and wished us a goodnight.

I remember I didn’t get any sleep then, neither did my mother or brother, and we’d all huddled together waiting for the makeshift office to go up in flames or for you to burst in with a group of other humans to finally get rid of us. That didn’t happen.

We soon fell into a routine where we would sleep for most of the day while you managed to keep your parents from entering the old office space for months. You provided us with fresh water for the cooler and anything else we requested to keep us entertained. During the night, my family and I would explore the forest in order to feed on the wildlife and keep our fitness up.

You started to visit me most nights when you weren’t busy in order to help me research where this new vampire community was located. My mother and brother still hadn’t really warmed to you all that much, but I don’t think you minded. You seemed to be much more comfortable when it was just us two, hunched over scriptures you’d ‘borrowed’ from your occult group.

We spent so much time with each other that we actually became friends. Y/N, at the time that was such a strange concept for me. My whole life I’d been taught that humans were my enemy, despite being half human myself. They had only caused vampires death and lifelong pain, and so you were not to be trusted. But you were different. The humans we should be afraid of were the ones who did not understand us, who were not educated about us and who would kill us the first chance they got. We weren’t told about the humans like you - the ones that were fascinated by us and who were empathetic towards our situation.

You spent many nights with me in my makeshift home in your backyard, telling me about your interest in everything supernatural. We discussed human and supernatural relations, and how we believed peace between our kind was possible and desired. You also told me about your life, and listened patiently as I heartbreakingly explained how we’d lost my father due to old age a few years ago, as he was only human and we would long outlive him.

Never once did I feel like I was oversharing or should not have told you something. I never doubted your intentions to help us, and I felt like I could finally ignore my fear of an early death by humans when you were around. You made me feel safe, and it wouldn’t be long before I returned the favour.

About three months after you had taken my family in, rumours started spreading that you were harbouring dangerous individuals in your back garden. My brother had been caught sneaking back into your property one evening after both him and I had finished a hunt. I wanted to spend longer outside so, in an almost blood-drunk state, he went back home while I stayed in the forest. This absolute fool had decided it was safe enough to enter through the driveway, meaning he had walked in off of the street and alerted your neighbours to his presence when he accidentally tripped over the garden hose and went toppling into your rubbish bin. He had then been observed unlocking the office out the back, and your neighbours assumed he was a homeless man breaking into your property. I was far enough away that I hadn’t heard all the noise my older brother had made but the yells and succeeding gunfire caught my attention.

The scene that greeted me when I finally arrived back at your place, Y/N, was horrible. You were cornered in the back of your garden, trying your best to shield both my mother and brother from the crowd of mortals that had formed and were blocking the exit of the property. I vaulted myself over your back fence and joined you and my family, and you quickly explained the situation to me. My brother had caused the neighbours to believe he was a homeless trespasser, and when they’d confronted you guys about it they had realised he and my mother were not human. Then they’d pulled out their guns and started threatening both my family and you.

When I’d arrived your parents were yelling at you to hand my family over in exchange for your life, while the neighbours pointed handguns in your direction, but when they noticed me, all hell broke loose. I was barely at your side when someone fired the first shot my way, thankfully missing me, but resulting in everyone letting a barrage of gunfire fly our way.

My brother pulled my mother to the side of the office and I dived towards you, knowing my half-vampire skin would make a better bullet-proof shield than yours would, but I didn’t quite make it in time. I watched as the bullet entered your abdomen and you fell to the ground, curled over in pain. I yelled at my mother and brother to jump over the fence and somehow managed to scoop you up from the ground and launch you over the back end of your property, and followed quickly behind.

The mob of neighbours tried to follow us, but by the time they hefted their asses over the fence, I’d pulled you into my arms and we’d already taken off into the forest. You were fading in and out of consciousness and losing a lot of blood - so much so that it was incredibly tough for me to smell your blood and restrain myself from feeding off of you then and there.

Through the research we’d done together, we’d worked out the nearest vampire community was not actually in your town but in another over, so that’s where my family and I planned to take you. Usually we would need a permit to enter the compound but were figured turning up there and asking them to save you was a risk we were willing to take.

After around an hour of non-stop running, we finally stopped for a rest in a clearing and I was able to check your wounds. My mother and brother stood far away so as to not catch a whiff of the smell of your blood, and I pulled my shirt over my nose while I examined you. Your wound was bad, but because the bullet was still lodged in your stomach it was stopping a lot more blood loss. As I had you laid out in my lap, you smirked up at me and said, “I told you I loved you. Enough to try to save your family, at least.” I smiled back at you and replied, “and I love you for that, too.”

Little did I know how deep our love for each other actually ran.

The third time you said “I love you”, you were giving up your life.

Your mortal life, that is. My family arrived at the new vampire commune, aptly called Scarlet Watch, early the next morning. By this time your condition had only worsened, your skin was cool and your face was so pale you rivaled that of a snowman. We had to beg to be let in, as we were initially turned away because we did not have the necessary papers and we were carrying you, a human on the verge of death.

My family and I caused such a commotion that the guards of Scarlet Watch called in their governor who decided to let us through - on the condition that you would be turned into a vampire in order to save your life. You were so out of it by this stage that asking you for your permission was impossible, and my family let me make the final decision, claiming I was the closest to you and would know what your wishes would be.

When deciding your fate, Y/N, I was so selfish. For me, the question wasn’t “would Y/N want to be a vampire”, it was “do I think I want to live without Y/N?” My answer was no. Not only had you risked your life to hide us in your spare room on your property and help us research Scarlet Watch, you’d also risked your life a second time when you tried your best to protect my family the night prior. Furthermore, you were the only human I’d met, besides my father, who did not want to harm me and who even took the time to get to know me. There was no way I could just let you die.

When I told the governor my decision on your behalf, there was no hesitation in whisking you off to another building in order to undergo the transformation process. My mother, brother, and I rushed after you, and we found ourselves in a kind of medical building. They laid you on a cold, metal operating table and it was like the iciness of it finally shocked you back into consciousness because your eyes instantaneously flew open and you looked around in a panic.

I managed to force my way into the room and held your hand in my own, and you seemed to calm down slightly. I explained that they were going to make you a vampire, like me, and that this was the only way to save your life because you’d lost so much blood. You agreed, and I could feel you were fading again so I told you I loved you. I don’t know why I said it, but deep down I knew it was true. You smiled, said you loved me back, and then I was pulled back out of the room and you were left to your fate.

The last time you say “I love you” will be as you watch the light fade from my eyes.

The day we arrived at Scarlet Watch was the longest day of my life. I’d never witnessed a human be transformed into a vampire, and was told that I had to just sit and wait until it was safe to visit you. Y/N, I was so scared for you. I tried to consume some bagged blood the Scarlet Watch officials provided us, but I couldn’t focus on anything other than you. While my brother caught up on some much needed rest, I sat in the room they’d lent us, wringing my hands with worry. Even my mother became concerned for me, and commented she’d never seen me in this state before. God, how awkward is it to explain to your mother you think you’re actually in love with someone? A human turned vampire, no less?

I really couldn’t properly articulate how I felt for you in that moment, because I didn’t fully understand it myself. It was like after you were shot, I was faced with your mortality and I finally realised just how important you were to me. You were unlike any other human I’d met before - there was something so precious about you that I just wanted to treasure forever. Turns out my mother understood how I felt about you, and, considering she had married and had a child with a human to produce me, she was fully supportive of my feelings. It’s not like I needed her blessing to feel the way I felt about you, but it definitely did solidify everything for me.

A few days after your transformation, I was finally able to see you again. I had been told to stay away for awhile because newly turned vampires are notoriously violent and bloodthirsty, going after anything that looks like it moves. When I saw you again, you had just woken from a long nap and I had no reservations about running over and wrapping you in my arms. I couldn’t stop myself from cupping your face in my hands and giving you a massive kiss on the forehead, and then pulling you back into me again. You just laughed, clearly a little surprised by my actions but quickly returned my affection.

I noticed the similarities between us - your skin had a sort of unnatural glow to it, your reflexes were a lot faster, and your eyes, although they’d lost their shine, were wide and alert. However, unlike me, you were considered a full vampire because you’d been turned by another of our kind. You were not ‘pure’, a pure vampire is one who is born to two full vampires, but you were technically more supernatural than I, a half vampire, was.

I didn’t tell you how I felt about you for a while afterwards. I knew that your main priority was adjusting to the new life we had here, in Scarlet Watch. This was our new home, after all. I took care of you as you were recovering from the transformation, and we moved into our own unit together while my mother and brother shared the one next to us. I taught you how to hunt, how to feed, how to regulate your heartbeat and breathing - all the basic stuff I’d known about since I was a baby, but I didn’t mind because it meant I got to spend more time in your company.

It was only when you’d almost fully adjusted to your new life that I decided to tell you I loved you, for real. We had finished work for the day - I worked as a casual laborer around Scarlet Watch and you worked in the records department of the council - and we were sitting in our shared living room discussing what came next for us. Was Scarlet Watch where we wanted to live? Is this what we wanted to do for the rest of our (un)natural lives? Did we want to stick together, or get separate apartments?

I decided to simply bite the metaphorical bullet and tell you that I wanted to be with you, in a relationship. I could tell by your stunned silence that you certainly weren’t expecting me to say that, but I did. Judging by your lack of words, I was so sure that you were going to friendzone me, Y/N, that it was my turn to be surprised when you told me that was what you wanted, too. You said us being together made so much sense, especially since we both felt so strongly for each other, and that was that.

My mother was not surprised when, two years later, I told her you and I were getting married. You know my mother, Y/N - she claims she knew we would be together the moment I confessed how I felt about you to her for the first time - but nonetheless she was very happy for us (and even happier to throw herself into wedding planning mode). The day we were married, Y/N, was the happiest day in my life. It was a stark contrast to the day you almost died, which was by far the longest and scariest day of my life.

We were finally going to be together, not that we needed a piece of paper to tell us that, and it was almost overwhelming the amount of love and support that surrounded us on that day. I remember trying my hardest not to cry - since we physically can’t, I would have just been standing there looking like I was constipated, so I am glad that I didn’t. I don’t want to say that it was you being a vampire that took my breath away when I first saw you on our wedding day, because I am sure if you were still human you would have looked just as ethereal, but there really was something about you that day that stood out to me as magical. It was almost as if you were born to be a vampire with me.

I decided to write this letter to reflect on all the memorable times you said “I love you”. Our relationship was definitely a surprise - who would have guessed that day in the forest that we would end up being married - but I don’t regret anything about it. Last night, you brought up the topic of having children together. While I would love to have children with you, it did make me think long and hard about the idea of bringing a new life into the world - but also the inevitability of death.

Our conversation made me realise that while there have been many times we’ve told each other we love one another, the last time we will say it will be when I am dying. Because you are a full vampire, and I am only a half vampire, you are almost guaranteed to outlive me by at least twenty years.

I am not sure if you’ve realised this yet, but I cannot bring myself to breach the subject of my death with you, which is why I decided to write this letter instead. I am trying to forget about this dire fact, but in all truthfulness it is a certainty that I think about every day. What will happen to you after I die? Will you be okay? Will you remarry? Will you and our children decide to move from Scarlet Watch?

One thing I can say, though, is that I don’t envy you. I can’t imagine a world where I have to keep existing long after you have gone. If an early death means I never have to see you die, then I would take that over anything else. Luckily, we still have a lot more decades to live through before I inevitably pass before you, but like I said, I can’t stop thinking about the pain my death will cause you.

For now, though, the only sensible option is to enjoy the time that we do have together, and worry about all the little details later. So, shall we get to work making babies, baby?

From your loving husband,

Chenle ;)

#neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct-writers #dreamwritersnet #nct #nct dream #nct dream chenle #nct chenle #chenle nct #chenle #zhong chenle #chenle imagine #chenel scenario #chenle x reader #supernatural nct

72 notes · View notes

just-a-poor-boy-queen · 3 years

Note

Part 33 of Jimercury Kid series

Jim couldn’t understand it. He was completely and utterly baffled.

He had spent the last few weeks watching what he ate, cutting back on higher calorie foods, restricting his sweets, sometimes skipping meals altogether and substituting them for tea or coffee. And yet, as he stood there in his bedroom in front of the mirror, hands struggling with the buttons of his trousers, it all seemed to be for naught.

He could barely fit into any of his clothes. His trousers wouldn’t button, his shirts strained against his chest and even his pyjamas seemed ready to tear at the seams the moment he put them on. He couldn’t understand it; he had tried, he really tried. Yet it seemed he had put on weight rather than lost it.

Freddie had got rid of the scales during his illness, as it depressed him too much to be reminded of how thin and frail he was becoming, so Jim was forced to rely on his own estimation. Given how nothing fit him anymore, it was clear that his current approach to losing weight wasn’t working.

He gave up fighting with the button and pulled the trousers off in frustration, tossing them across the room. He wrapped himself back up in his dressing gown, which seemed to be the only thing that he could breathe in and sat down on the bed in defeat. He couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander to darker thoughts; what if it kept getting worse? What if Freddie looked at him one day and was disgusted by what he saw? Someone as beautiful as Freddie deserved better. He would tell Jim to pack his bags and leave.

He knew he shouldn’t think of such things, but he couldn’t help himself. He had always been made to feel that he wasn’t good enough for Freddie and this only cemented the idea into his head.

And the worst part? His poor mood was making him crave a biscuit.

He groaned and flopped down onto the mattress.

‘I’m in big trouble.’

Phoebe couldn’t help but snigger with laughter as Freddie held up one of Jim’s shirts, which was now noticeably smaller than it had been before it went in the wash.

Recently, Freddie had become insistent on being more independent and enlisted Phoebe to show him how to use various items around the house, including the washing machine. In hindsight, Phoebe should have known that this impulsive venture was destined for disaster; of course, Freddie would insist on doing Jim’s washing to surprise him, and then whack the machine up to 60 degrees despite Phoebe’s warnings. And now Jim’s loosest T-shirt was more of a crop top if anything.

Freddie sighed and set the shirt down, folding it pointlessly. ‘On a scale on one to ten, how angry do you think Jim will be?’

‘For shrinking his entire wardrobe?’ Phoebe pretended to consider the question. ‘At least an eleven.’

This clearly wasn’t the right thing to say, as Freddie groaned and faceplanted onto the kitchen table.

‘Cheer up, you old tart.’ Phoebe grinned and gave the singer a nudge. ‘Jim can never stay cross with you for long. Just explain yourself and he’ll forgive you.’

‘I know he’ll forgive me – it’s the half an hour lecture I’m not looking forward to.’ The Persian grumbled and pushed his chair back. ‘Maybe I should take Khaleel up with me. He can’t shout at me if the baby is there.’

‘Using your child as a shield? That’s low even for you.’

‘Give over, Phoebe. You and Joe were happy enough to use Jim as a scapegoat when you were smuggling cats into the house, so don’t you lecture me about morals.’

Five minutes later, Freddie was warily ascending the staircase towards the master bedroom, a packet of custard creams in one hand and Khaleel scampering at his heels. He was mentally preparing himself for the severe scolding he would inevitably receive, but hopefully a few biscuits would sweeten Jim’s mood. Lord knows, the Irishman could use them; he had been eating so little recently, he was practically wasting away into nothing. (1/2)

‘Darling?’ Freddie called out softly as he pushed open the door, scanning the room until he located Jim lying flat out on the bed, staring at the ceiling. ‘Darling, we brought you something.’

‘Don’t come in.’ Jim replied groggily, not even looking up from where he was laying. ‘I’m hideous.’

Freddie chuckled, not picking up the sincerity in Jim’s tone as he stepped into the room, Khaleel immediately making a beeline for the bed. ‘Hey, that’s my line!’

‘We brought biscuits, Daddy.’ Khaleel said excitedly, bouncing onto the bed and sprawling on top of Jim, resting his chin on the man’s chest. ‘I’ve already had three, so Baba says the rest are for you.’

The mere mention of confectionary made Jim groan. ‘Please take them away. I’ll probably put on ten pounds just looking at them.’

‘What do you mean?’ Freddie asked, sitting himself down beside his husband and son. ‘I thought you liked custard creams.’

Jim gave a loud, heavy sigh, lifting a hand to gently pet Khaleel’s hair. ‘I’m fat.’

There was a brief pause as everyone took a moment to process those two words. Then Freddie chuckled loudly, only stopping when he realised Jim was serious.

‘You’re not fat, you silly fool!’ Freddie exclaimed, looking scandalised. ‘If anything, you could stand to eat more. There’s nothing of you these days!’

‘Oh, come on Freddie.’ Jim couldn’t help but snap, though he quickly lowered his voice when he realised that he had startled Khaleel. Their son hated it when they argued, and he quickly pressed a kiss against the little boy’s nose to reassure him. ‘I know for a fact that I’ve put on weight. I don’t fit into any of my clothes anymore. If that’s not proof, I don’t know what is.’

Freddie felt his cheeks begin to burn and he carefully placed the packet of custard creams out of Jim’s reach, in case the Irishman decided to use them as a weapon. ‘Ah…that might be my fault.’

Jim sat up, sitting Khaleel on his lap as he stared at Freddie in confusion. ‘How is it your fault?’

‘Well, I asked Phoebe to show me how to use some of the appliances around the house.’ Replied Freddie, playing with his fingers awkwardly. ‘And I wanted to surprise you by doing your laundry. But I might have turned the temperature up a little too high.’

Jim’s eyes went wide. ‘You shrunk my clothes?!’

‘In my defence, Phoebe is partially at fault for listening to me when I told him I knew what I was doing.’ Freddie dropped his gaze to his lap, peering up at Jim through his eyelashes. ‘I’m really sorry, darling.’

But Jim just started to laugh, though it sounded like he was on the verge of crying as well. ‘Jesus Christ, Freddie. You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that. I thought I was going to end up needing a forklift to get downstairs.’

‘Don’t be ridiculous. There’s nothing wrong with your weight.’ Freddie said gently, leaning over and brushing a kiss against the man’s bearded cheek. ‘You’re perfect just the way you are, isn’t he, Kenny?’

‘I love Daddy’s tummy.’ Khaleel replied, giving Jim’s stomach a pat. ‘He’s like a big cuddly teddy bear!’

‘Exactly. He’s our teddy bear.’ Freddie kissed his husband again, rubbing his cheek against the man’s stubble. ‘So…are you cross with me?’

‘Of course I’m cross with you!’ Jim exclaimed, though he was cracking up as he spoke. ‘I have to invest in a whole new wardrobe now, thanks to your terrible laundry skills!’

‘I’ll take you shopping tomorrow, I promise.’ Freddie pouted and thrust the packet of biscuits under Jim’s nose. ‘Now, stop telling me off and eat my peace offering.’ (2/2)

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

Awwww haha I loved this!

Firstly, I love how you've explored any body image issues that Jim may have had, and how that tied to his insecurities of not being good enough for Freddie.

And oof, baby Jimbo was adorable.

And the worst part? His poor mood was making him crave a biscuit.

Awwww I love my Irish teddy bear so much😂💙

Also, lmao Freddie being absolute shit at using a washing machine, Phoebe's amusement at his friend's antics, and Freddie eventually blaming Phoebe for putting too much faith into him made me crack up😂😂😂 He's such a character, our Freddie.

(More drabbles by writer anon)

(All the parts of this series can also be found under the tag #freddie and jim and their baby on this blog)

#ask response #jim hutton #freddie mercury #anon writing #freddie and jim and their baby

13 notes · View notes

justoneday-namjoonii · 4 years

Text

Don’t Breathe | 5.0

»Genre: hitman!au || stalker!au ||

»Warnings: kidnapping, stalking, obsession, themes of borderline Stockholm syndrome and Lima syndrome, brief mono-phobia, mature elements, manhandling, breakdowns, guns, yandere (? i think ), he thinks it’s cute when she cries, eventually they fall in love, Disclaimer: I do not condone nor suggest stalking/kidnapping or anything of that nature, this is pure fiction ok, kidnappers and stalkers DO NOT love you.

»Summary: He doesn’t get shaky hands, he never forgets his gloves and he never leaves a trail. He was paid to get rid of everyone who witnessed the exchange between a gang lord and a politician, they were picked off, one by one. He found out a month later, he missed one. A young writer who attended the event where the exchange took place. He has to kill her. Can he do it?

✤ pt.1 - pt.2 - pt.2.5 - pt.3 - pt. 3.5 - pt. 4.0 - pt. 4.5 - pt. 5.0 - pt.5.5 - pt.6.0

a/n: this is a heavy and wordy chapter so bare with me, we’re almost at the finale! thank you for reading and i hope u enjoy!💖

taglist: @tangledsparkles @just-another-fangurl21 @impartoftoomanyfandoms @komorebi-unnie @tangledsparkles @yes-sol-not-soul (sorry :( tumblr won’t let me tag you) @sarzkh31

When you woke up this morning, you felt nauseous, sick to your stomach. Last night, while you were sleeping, he packed up some basic necessities and put them in his car. He said Yeosang would be by soon to officialese everything and that you could relax until then. But you can’t, you’re head hurts so bad, you want to throw up.

“I was in the other room but I didn’t hear you get up, I would’ve made you breakfast,” Taehyung leans against the bathroom door frame and watches you, you’re dressed and he’s wondering how he missed you waking up and showering. You’re busy brushing your teeth, still wanting to pass out from how bad your headache is, but you decide against it.

“Did you sleep well?” You nod, spitting in the sink with the running water. He tilts his head, already picking up on your change in demeanor. Taking a step towards you, he lifts your chin to get you to look him in the eye, “Hey, I know that face, look at me,” Concern coats his expression and you will yourself to finally look at him, “what’s wrong?”

“I’m just- I don’t know, I’m nervous about all of this,” You walk past him into the bedroom, the beautiful bedroom you’ll probably never get to share with him again, “what if things don’t work out? What if your friend can’t help us, then what?” You sit on the edge of the bed, hugging yourself at the thought, the terror you would endure if this all went south. “I’m scared, I have this bad feeling, it’s making me really uneasy...”

“I know,” Taehyung can’t say he’s never had those thoughts, it plagues his mind too. The thought of no longer having the comfort of each other, the joy in your smiles and laughter being taken, it’s scary. Kneeling in front of you, he takes your hands into his with a light squeeze.

“I know it’s scary, and we’re taking a huge risk,” He tilts his head, puppy-dog eyes peering into your weary ones, “but I promise, I’m doing what’s best to keep us safe and together, alright baby?” He caresses the side of your face with the back of his hand, but the affection makes you pout rather than feel better.

“Hey, and guess what? Once this is all over, we’ll be shopping at local markets to buy fresh produce for us to cook with,” He smiles, trying to lighten up your mood with the dreamy idea, “we can paint whatever we can get our hands on, with whatever paint you want, you can write stories and poems during picnics, we could do whatever your heart desires, we’ll have a new life together,” He thumbs at the backs of your hands, tugging at your heartstrings to get you to smile. “I’ll even get you a puppy if you want one, doesn’t that sound perfect?”

You can’t help but form a little grin at the thought. “It does...”

“That’s what’s waiting for us bunny, we just have to wait for a little while,” He sits up to cup the back of your neck and places a firm kiss on your lips, so soft and warm but short-lived when he pulls away, “so give me a little smile, please?” You oblige, smiling down at him and he pinches your chin with a giggle.

"There you go, that’s my sweet girl,” He stands up and takes you with him, arms wrapped just at your thighs to keep you above ground, “why don’t you go get a few paintings to take with you, while I pack up a few things, and you can wear my favorite bracelet for good luck,”

”Pack?” You sigh, feet hitting the ground when he let’s you go. He slips off the black threaded bracelet and tightens it around your wrist with a smile. “Do you want me to help-”

“You go, I got it,” He holds your head in his hands and kisses between your brows with an audible smooch which made you laugh, “go on.”

With a pat on your butt, you’re making your way out of the bedroom and down to the basement. When you get down there, you realize the number of paintings you have. There are about ten to fifteen finished paintings and the others are unfinished. The little story that’s being written is illustrated in this painting, wonder and lover is illustrated in these paintings. In your attempt to pick a few, you notice the little cushion he got for you months ago. Sometimes, it doesn’t even register to you that once you were stuck down here, fighting and dying to leave this place. Now you’re almost in tears at the thought of having to leave.

But you’re new life is ahead of you, you should be happy.

Leu is facing a political nightmare, there’s a chance he won’t recover from this. Scandals happen all the time, affairs, bribery, on rare occasions, perjury. But seldom is a man of his prowess busted for abetting in multiple murders. There’s no coming back from this. He’s been tracking the phone for a few weeks, and only recently did he realize it was active recently. He completely missed it. When he arrived at the police station, he gave one of the detectives the phone number to hopefully track. He’s been waiting in a room filled with computers and busy interns, just waiting for results. When he considers leaving the room for another bland coffee, he gets a phone call. Looking down at the screen, he sees who it is and decides to answer it.

Yoongi dismisses himself and steps into the hall, “Hello?”

“Jin told me you all found the person who hired the group that killed all those people and took Y/n, is that true?” She sounds hopeful.

“We found him. I can’t reveal too much but we’re hammering down on the search, trying to track the location of the cellphone.”

“I hope she’s okay,” Her voice falters a bit, “there are some sick people out there, I just pray she’s not with one of them.”

He has to cut the call short when one of the tech people waves aggressively to get his attention.

“We just got a location,” The woman beckons him back into the room, “it’s about an hour and a half away from here, in what looks like one of the upper-class neighborhoods on the east-side.”

Yoongi walks over to the computer, eyes skimming over the estimated location of the cellphone. “The phone was traced to that location?”

He’s surprised that your phone would be in such a nice area, but then again he knows what the Hwan Group has been rumored to do. They’ve sold they’re victims to high-paying old men and women who’re looking to fulfill their sick desires in innocent people. It’s repulsive. He can’t help the churn he feels in his stomach when the thought of a person being used like that crosses his mind. In his career in the FBI and even as a PI now, he’s seen some shit. And no matter how many times he’s walked in on dead bodies, shackled victims, bloodied crime scenes, seeing people mistreated makes him sick. But what keeps him doing this is the chance, the small but promising chance that the victim might be alive.

“How long was it on?”

“Not sure, but it was turned on about 2 hours ago and then shut off, must’ve died,” She types a string of letters and another tab pops up, “this is the address.” Promptly, the printer in the corner of the room spits out the paper with the address and she rolls her chair over to it.

“If she’s anywhere, here is your best bet.”

The room is filled with men in black gear, heavy leather boots, and guns on their hips. When Minho gives the word, they all pile into the van and Minho gets in the backseat of his car—he tells the driver to wait before pulling out.

“Shit,” He lets out a deep sigh, dress-shirt feeling too tight on his neck. “he brought this on his self, he brought this on his damn self and he didn’t give me any other choice, right?”

Jimin sits beside him, nodding his head in agreement. “Absolutely, he can’t blame you for this, he knows the price of the job,”

“Doesn’t make it any easier, out of everyone, he was the last person I thought would pull something like this, I still don’t fully believe it-”

“Well,” Jimin interjects, making a thoughtful expression, “maybe he did kill the target and he’s just being hush-hush about it, the girl could’ve put up a fight or- I don’t know, anything could have happened.”

“Maybe,” He takes out his phone, pressing a contact, “but I’m going to give him one more chance,” Waiting for a few seconds, deep down inside he hopes Taehyung will answer. Sadly, the call goes to voicemail and he sets the phone down and sighs, there’s nothing else he can do.

“He didn’t answer, he’s buying time,” Jimin confirms the inevitable, “he knows what he’s doing, it’s best we confront him now.”

Minho pats the back of the driver's chair. “Go ahead.”

He was plundering through the drawers when he found your cellphone stacked on a small pile of books. Assuming he’d be able to wipe it, he tucked is into the little bag along with a few of the books he knew you liked to read. Packing up this stuff reminds him of the night he took you from your house, the night that changed his life. It had been after so much time watching you, learning our lifestyle. He knows now that if he had a chance to learn all of that about you in a different circumstance, like as friend that would slowly morph into something more, he’d take that chance.

The buzzing of his phone pulls him from his thoughts, thinking it was Minho again, he was about to ignore it, but he peeks at the screen to see that it’s Yeosang. Quickly, he answers the call and presses the phone to his ear.

“Hey, I’ve got some good news and some bad news. Good news, the condo is in your name and ready to go. The bad news is, the flights have been delayed due to bad weather, it’s about a 2-hour delay, could be more.”

“Shit, that would happen,” Taehyung presses his temples, “how close are you?’

“About 45 minutes? Something like that. Do you want me to get her to the airport and you drive separately or do you want me to-”

“If you pick her up that’ll be fine but I was hoping for both of us to get out of here sooner than that,” He zips up the backpack and leaves the room with the flick of the light, “Minho tried to call me and I didn’t answer, he knows something,”

“I want to help you guys,” Yeosang stresses, “maybe you could drive all the way and take a flight from a city further down.”

“That might work if I leave right now,” Taehyung mentally flips through his options and the possibilities are starting to grow slimmer in his mind, “you know what, listen out for me, I need to get her ready. I’ll call you back when we’re in route.”

Taking the little bag with him, he goes downstairs and searches for his computer, but he realizes it’s packed away. He was going to see if there were any loose strings that he might now have noticed.

That’s when he hears a heavy knock on the door. He stands frozen, waiting for a second knock. There is a second knock and a booming voice from the other side.

“Kim! I know you’re in there.”

it’s too late, he’s here. Without a second to lose, he runs down to the basement where you’re peacefully admiring your first painting.

All of a sudden, he hugs you and the painting falls from your grasp, “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, he’s here,” He goes to turn off the light and you pick up the painting down to put it back, barely registering what he’s saying, “you need to hide while I buy us some time.”

“Wha- What? No, I want to stay with you,” Your hands are shaking and you feel like you’re getting that sick feeling again—this can’t be happening. “Tae, don’t leave me, what if something happens to you?-”

“Shh, it’ll be okay, I need you to hide under here,” He guides you over to the tiny space under the staircase, gesturing for you to kneel down. You do as he says and he kneels in front of you, every fiber in his body telling him to stay by your side, but he knows he can’t. He holds you in a warm embrace as if it was the last time, he always does it like it’s the last time. “It’s okay, just stay here.”

With that, you’re left in the pitch-black basement, curled up under the stairs, and wishing this was all just a bad dream. But the sound of the front door opening gives you the confirmation that this is your worst nightmare coming to life.

He opened the door a few minutes ago, Minho and Jimin had pushed past him to get inside, about ten suited-up guys follow and the door slammed on there way in. With little struggle, they had Taehyung sit on the couch while Minho paced in front of him as his team tears the place apart.

“I didn’t want to do this to you.” That’s the first thing Minho says.

“I can see that,” Tae responds plainly.

“You brought this upon yourself you know,” Minho stands in front of him, hands in his pockets with a cold glare on his face, “whatever the hell you were trying to do, it’s over now.”

Taehyung stays quiet, pissing Minho off even more.

“Do you know what you’ve done to this organization? We’re on the radar because you took that woman. Now the cops are involved, they’re onto us and they won’t stop until they find her. Why choose to go rogue now? Your contract ends in a year and you decide to spend it ruining your reputation? Out of everyone in the company, you were the last person I thought I’d have to worry about, you were my absolute best, and now that’s all gone to hell,” He bites his bottom-lip, getting impatient with Taehyung’s unchanging demeanor, “do you even care?”

He just stares at him blankly.

“Nothing upstairs,” About three guys come from downstairs.

“Downstairs is clear,” The others emerge from the other parts of the house, also empty-handed, "no signs of a body or that anyone else was living here sir-”

“Check again!” Minho snaps, kicking the coffee table across the room with a loud curse, “Look outside, tear the damn place apart if you have to, she has to be somewhere.”

He goes on and on, going red in the face he’s so livid, Taehyung was his favorite. The fussing becomes a bit repetitive to Jimin, so he decides to go off and do his own search, that’s when Tae gets truly nervous for the first time, Jimin has a knack for finding the unsuspecting.

Footsteps can be heard throughout the entire house. You only flinch when you hear a loud thump, like a table being thrown or broken against the wall. You brace yourself, placing your hands on your ears until the footsteps cease. You breathe in and out shallowly, trying to listen for Taehyung. You haven’t heard him once, not one sound.

Your heart drops when you hear the high pitched squeak of the basement door opening. Light slips into the darkroom. Heavy footsteps on the stair-well reverberate against your ears.

He’s a painter? He would be, wouldn’t he? A man mumbles to himself. Peeking from behind the wooden beam that’s shielding you, you see a man with shiny black hair looking at your paintings. You close your eyes and cover your mouth, tears pricking at your eyes from the sheer suspense of it all. Your body is shaking, sweating and the need to gasp for more air becomes critical to your sanity. But you hold it in, you block out the rapid heartbeat pounding against your rib-cage.

“Where are you...” He speaks clearer now as if he knows you’re here as if he knows you’re trying to block him out. Eyes squeezed shut, your curl in on yourself, trying so hard not to make a sound. His footsteps become louder, his shadow appears on the wall opposite of you like a lurking monster, seeking to cause you nothing but terror. In contrast, he hums a little song softly.

If you close your eyes, he’ll go away, just close your eyes and he’ll go away.

“There you are,” You look straight at him and your fight or flight kicks in. You try to make a run for it but he easily grabs you, “hey! Stop- Stop fighting, I’m not gonna hurt you! Calm down-”

You scream but he clamps a hand over your mouth. Squirming violently, you try to bite his hand but he removes it before you can. He fights to drag you upstairs as you cry out for help. “Let go of me!”

When Taehyung hears your cries, all that goes through his mind is that he has to be with you. He darts past Minho to get to you but one of the guys tackle him to the ground. He calls out to you anyway, “I’m here! Y/n, it’s okay,”

Minho’s thrown off by what he thinks is a loving tone, “Keep him down.” He orders the men as he waits for the squealing female to be brought to him.

“Here she is, found her hiding under the staircase,” Jimin emerges with a smile and a red scratch on his brow courtesy of you, “she is very much alive.” He drops you on the ground in front of Minho. On your hands and knees and you look up with weary eyes.

“Oh Taehyung, you’ve been hiding her this entire time, you lied to me,” He kneels in front of your trembling form, head tilted and a hand reaching out to cup your jaw, “she is a pretty little thing, I get it. But if you wanted to keep her, why didn't you just say so? That could have been arranged,” You jerk away, “I just never thought you were the type to want toys like this.”

“That’s not what this is, she’s not a sexual object,” The men pull Tae to his feet and he finally sees you, on the ground, paralyzed with uncertainty, “I’ve been protecting her from you.”

“When have you ever protected a target from me? You take the job, I never force you to take a fucking job, Kim. This is your fault because you missed her and then had to go back to the job, then you watched her for too long and got attached, the very thing I warned you about that when you first joined.”

You look back at Taehyung, searching for some type of comfort in his eyes, but you’re stalled by the painful sting in your scalp, “Ow!-”

“This woman?” He fists your hair, pulling you to your feet. You grasp his wrist to try to loosen his grip but it only tightens, sending a burn down your back tears to your eyes. It’s deliberate torture for Taehyung to watch because he can’t do anything about it.

“This fucking woman should have been dead, and since you fucked everything up, I have to take care of her myself. But I don’t get it, you’ve killed dozens before, she shouldn’t have been a problem, but you got obsessed and she just had to be yours, didn’t she? That’s pathetic.” He shakes his head, disappointed.

“Do you not remember? You signed the contract for 7 years, you don’t get to experience real love in this job, and you know that better than anyone. How could anyone love you after what you’ve done? You’ve told me that countless times, what’s with the sudden change in heart?”

Taehyung looks away for the first time, it’s all true, when Tae signed the contract, he was sure he’d never have to worry about being attached to anyone. He didn’t love anyone, and no one loved him or ever could, so the job was perfect. No worried messages from a mother, disappointing looks from a father— if he has no one, there’s no one to disappoint, no one to secretly hate him. He ruled out the possibility that someone would ever want to love him, truly love him. Then came you and he loved, he was loved.

“She doesn’t deserve to this, she doesn’t deserve to die. She didn’t do anything wrong,” Taehyung looks into in your eyes, trying to communicate to you, trying to think of a way to get out of here, “I swear, if you touch her-”

“Don’t give me that shit, you’ve killed all kinds of people, good, bad and in between, what makes her any different?-”

His sentence is cut short when Taehyung suddenly jerks against the men holding him and he gets free. He gets a hold of the gun and points it at Minho. Your hair is released but the man now holds you with an arm anchored around your neck.

“Let her go,” Taehyung takes short strides towards you two as the barrel of the gun stays square to Minho’s forehead, “you know I’m a straight shot, I could kill you right now,” He cocks the gun, the action making you shutter, “get your hands off of her.”

“You won’t do it,” Minho is already holding it to your head, arm secured around your neck. “if you kill me, you kill her, that’s not what you want,” He shoves the barrel against your scalp and you bite your lip hard to stop from sobbing. “I will kill her if I have to, then this will all be over. But if you put that gun down, and do exactly what I say, she stays alive, I promise.”

“Tae- Taehyung,” You manage to choke out, clawing at Minho’s arms frantically, “please-” He tightens his grip on your poor neck and that’s when Taehyung raises his hands in surrender and he’s immediately brought to his knees.

“Alright! Just stop, stop! She can’t fucking breathe! Please,” As soon as they take the gun, Minho throws you on the hard floor and you gasp for air, coughing violently as you brace on your hands and knees, “do what you want with me, just don’t hurt her.”

“Huh,” He groans, clicking his teeth in contemplation, “since you are my favorite and you’ll probably never see her again, why don’t you give her some love before you go? I’ll give you that at least.”

Taehyung down looks at you then at Minho. “What?”

“I’m giving you a chance to say goodbye,” Minho nudges you with his hand, making you flinch, “hurry up before I change my mind.”

The men are still holding him, his arms behind his back. He bites back tears as you sit frozen, mirroring his pained expression. “Y/n, it’s okay,” He calls for you, pulling against the retrains, “come here, baby,” You begin to crawl over to him, but you’re still hesitant to get near the people holding him, “let go! What the fuck do think I’m gonna do?!-”

“Let’m go, he won’t do anything stupid.”

Once he’s freed, he cocoons you in his arms, his body is warm and his energy is calm as he cradles you close. Minho stops to observe a version of Taehyung he has never witnessed before. He’s on his knees, holding you to his chest as you cling to him. Your knuckles must be white from how hard you’re gripping his shirt. Your eyes are squeezed shut, you’re shaking, petrified with the thought of never feeling this again. You can’t live like that, you could die without this. “T-Tae, don’t let them t- take me, don’t let them take me-...” You hiccup through your sobs, holding on to the little bit of affection that might be the last.

“Shh, I’ll fix this,” He whispers just low enough for you to hear, “I promise...”

You feel his hand go to your hair and he pulls your head back to bring your lips to his—you can’t live without this. He parts his lips, kissing you as if you two were the only ones in the room, as if you’re in bed, heart-to-heart, feeling loved. Shamelessly, you push against him for more and you can taste your tears, are those your tears and his tears?

“My God,” Minho tucks the gun back in its holster with a scoff, “from the looks of it, you’d think he actually loves her.” Minho makes a thoughtful expression, smirking down at Tae who’s resting his head on your shoulder as you hold him tight. He signals at Jimin who’s watching the scene with interest, “Okay, that’s enough.”

The embrace is broken when you’re ripped away and Taehyung is tackled to the ground with loud cursing. You let out heartwrenching sobs, eyes glazing over with sheer horror, “No! Please! I’ll do anything, I won’t say anything about this I swear! Just don’t do this, please!”

Minho dismisses you entirely, more interested in Tae’s reaction. “That’s all it takes?” Minho walks over to him, laughing when Jimin and another guy struggling to hold him back, “Years of training and killing, and it only takes her to break you?”

“Go to hell.”

Minho shakes his head with a sigh, pitying him. “Put her in the car.”

Yoongi is in the car with two other officers ready to give the signal any time now. He knows something is going on but whatever happens, he’s determined to get you home safe. When he looks into the house from the car he sees a shadow pass the front window.

He holds the button on the com. “We’re moving in now.”

It was a blur when it all happened. You were crying and being dragged away from when the door burst open. Officers stormed the house. Guns go off and your ears ring painfully. They rush in and so many people are everywhere—your oasis, your little paradise is being made a battleground. You cry when the man holding you bumped into a vase and drops you near it. He flees out the back door, but you’re frozen, everything is in disarray but the one person you do see is Taehyung who’s being handcuffed along with so many others. He mouths something but you can’t make it out. He shakes his head, you don’t know what he’s saying, what is he trying to say?

“I’ve got her, she’s here!” A man is yelling to the others, you didn’t register he was kneeling beside you.

“Y/n, we’re here to help you, you’re safe now,” He moves to block your view from what’s happening behind him. You don’t verbally respond, but your eyes are teary, breathing rapid, lips trembling.

“She’s hurt! I’m taking her out.”

You’re having derealization episode, or a panic attack, or both. You might be looking at him, but you’re acting like you don’t know where you are, you’re not even aware of the wound on your leg.

Who is this man?”

“Who are you?...” You speak for the first time, and you pear at him with wavering eye-contact, his eyes look kind.

“Yoongi. I’m going to pick you up, is that okay?” You nod after he wraps your leg tightly with his jacket, he lifts you into his arms and carries out of the house.

You can’t see Taehyung, you don’t know where they took him. Yoongi notices how you twist in his arms to look behind him, hoping to catch a glimpse of someone or something, he doesn’t know. All you see are a bunch of officers and Minho’s people being cuffed and shuffled into squad cars.

You’re taken past all of the squad cars and put you in the back seat of a black SUV and Yoongi disappears. A woman kneels down to tend to your leg, when did your leg start bleeding? You frown down at her when she cuts you pant-leg, tossing the denim to the ground, she notices instantly.

“My name is Chloe, sweetheart. I’m a paramedic, I just need to stop the bleeding until you can get stitches,” Her lips are moving, you know they are but you have no idea what she’s saying.

She mumbles to the man beside her, an EMT, give her the shock blanket. With a small nod, the man scurries off and returns with a silver tarp-like material and wraps it around you with gentle hands.

That man called Yoongi comes back and he’s talking on the phone with someone, he pushes back his middle-parted black hair and gets in the passenger's seat. Chloe finishes wrapping your leg and gently puts your legs in the vehicle, hooks you in your seat-belt, and promptly closing the door to seal you inside. This is too much, this wasn’t supposed to happen, this wasn’t supposed to happen. You start heaving, hand on your chest and body rocking back and forth to soothe yourself. They think they’re saving you, they’re not saving you.

They’re tearing everything apart.

“Wait one second,” Yoongi moves the phone from his ear and looks back at you, the color has left your face completely. Your hands are shaking and it feels like there’s a heater right in front of your face.

Yoongi reaches his hand back to get you to calm down but you don’t even look at him, your stomach aches all too much for you to acknowledge him. “Y/n, breathe, okay? You have to take deep breaths and calm down, you’re safe-”

You kick the door open and you’re expelling any food you had left in your stomach on the curb.

He sighs, quickly unbuckling his seat-belt to, “I’ll call you back,”

“We brought her to the infirmary,” Yoongi paces outside of the room, “looks like the place was being ransacked when we got here, we don’t know who the culprit is but the most important thing is that she’s safe now. When the doctor thinks she can undergo questioning, I’ll head over.”

“Good. The other officers arrived not too long ago, a majority of them won’t talk but they’ll stay in holding until you get back,” Eunwoo pauses, “how’s she doing? Is she all there, are there any signs of abuse?”

Yoongi sighs, taking a seat on the bench. “Don’t know yet, she hasn’t talked much. I don’t know if we should do the questioning today but I’ll talk to her after the doctor talks to me,”

“Alright, let me know when you’re headed over.”

It smells so sterile, you want to throw up again but you settle for staring at the nurse who just finished bandaging the stitches. When she leaves, another woman comes in.

“Y/n, how are you feeling?” She adjusts her glasses, getting a little closer when you don’t respond. “Everything is happening so fast, yeah? I can’t say I know what you’ve been through, but I know you're probably overwhelmed.”

You nod.

“I won’t bombard you with a bunch of questions, I’m just here to make sure you’re physically okay. Your vitals are good but is there anything going on with your body that you might be concerned about?”

You shake your head no, not maintaining eye-contact by any means—she notes that.

“Okay, do you mind if I check to make sure everything's okay? I’ll need your consent to do a full-body exam and I’ll have a chaperone with me, but if you’re not comfortable with that, I 100% understand.” Again, you nod with a small yes when she asks for verbal confirmation. She puts on some gloves before instructing you to sit on the edge of the bed and she goes to get a young woman in sky-blue scrubs.

He’s been waiting for about an hour and he stands to his feet when the woman comes out of the room with a clipboard.

“How is she?”

She holds the clipboard to her chest with a sigh. “We finished the physical exam, and there are no signs of sexual abuse or physical abuse, she’s quite healthy considering. As far as her mental health goes, it’s hard to tell right now. She’s obviously really overwhelmed by everything, this is probably going to be a trauma that she lives with for a while, she’ll need a psychiatric evaluation. I know you’re apart of the investigation but if you want to question her, talk to her to see how she feels about it first.” She walks off to the nurse's station but turns to say one more thing.

“You know, I heard about her in the newspaper, her news publisher has a whole story on her. Thank God she’s alive, not all stories end so fortunately.”

Yoongi walks past her and into the room quietly, you look up at him and then down at your hands.

“Do you feel a little better?” He walks to your bedside, eyes drifting down to your bandaged leg.

“H-...How did you find me?...”

“We’ve been looking for you nonstop. Today we were finally able to track your cellphone, we only hoped you’d be at that location. It’s been 8 months since the day you were reported missing, and for 8 months I’ve made finding you my main priority.”

You furrow your brows, looking at him as if he were speaking a foreign language. “It’s been 8 months?...”

“I know a lot is going on but we need some answers from you. I understand if you’re feeling up to it, but would you be able to come with me and answer some questions for us at the police station? If you don’t feel up to it then-”

“I’ll do it..” You answer too quickly.

Just like that, you’re at the police station sitting across from Yoongi and the officer over the investigation, officer Cha Eunwoo. They gave you a glass of water and you’ve chugged it down. You’re so jittery, your mind is everywhere.

“Y/n, do you know why you were kidnapped?” Eunwoo comes back with another cup of water and you watch him sit back down.

“I was told it was because of a politician who had it arranged that I be killed...

Yoongi writes something down and you swallow, wondering what he’s writing down.

“The house you were rescued from, is that where you’ve been living?”

“Yes...But-” You bite your lip, tears welling up in your eyes, “...I’m not hurt, the person I was with kept me safe, the man I was with, he's not the bad guy...”

The two of them look at each other puzzled, then at you. They question whether they heard that correctly.

“Who? Y/n,” Yoongi begins softly, “are you saying you were being protected?” You nod, pout ever so present on your lips. “Who was protecting you?”

You bite your lip, stopping yourself from saying his name, you shouldn’t say his name. They don’t know who he is yet, and maybe there’s a chance he’ll get out of this. As your mind reels, the two of them watch you, teary eyes laser-focused on the black bracelet on your wrist.

“Can you tell me who was with you in that house?” Yoongi asks again but you won’t look at him now. “Was it multiple people, or just that one person?”

You press your lips, nodding subtly. “It was multiple people?” You shake your head. “So it was just him,” He glances up from his notepad and you don’t indicate an answer, so he takes that as a yes, “did you ever leave the house?”

Eunwoo stands to his feet, stirring curiosity from you and Yoongi. “Min, can we have a word in private?”

Albeit confused, Yoongi nods, following the officer out into the other side of the two-way mirror where the other officers are.

“The hell? She was just giving us some good information.”

“Let me take this over, we have about a dozen people and we need to identify and interrogate all of them. But right now, we need the man who did this to her, that’s all.”

“She might not respond well to that, she’s obviously troubled, the pressure isn’t going to help.” Yoongi glances at you from the corner of his eye. “I think she trusts me a little more, so I should finish this.”

“I’ve interrogated hundreds of victims before, I think I can handle this. You can step in if she gets irate.” Yoongi can already sense how there’s an obvious shift in your demeanor when you notice that Yoongi’s isn’t accompanying him.

“Y/n, what happened to you was not your fault, but the person who did it needs to be dealt with. You were kidnapped, held hostage against your will, and no matter what that person might have told you, there are people who care about you that have been looking for you. You’re a victim and the person who did this to you will not get away with it. The man who had you and multiple others killed is already in our custody, he stands trial tomorrow. Now, we just need to get the others. Can you help us do that?”

You look at the one-way mirror. “Where’s the other guy, Yoongi, why didn’t he come back?...”

He evades the question. “Did he ever tell you his name?” Eunwoo glances at the one-way mirror before softening his tone. “Y/n, do you know his name?”

You frown, looking down at the bracelet on your wrist. “Does my family know I’m here?...”

“Y/n, we are going to let your family know but you have to realize what’s going on here. Senator Leu, who is standing trial today, hired someone to have you killed, but they didn’t kill you and we need to know why. Is he threatening you?... Is that why you won’t tell us anything?”

You swallow, throat feeling incredibly dry, face heating up. You chug down the second glass of water, it only cooled you down for just a moment.

Yoongi watches with a trained eye. You having to talk to Eunwoo alone was not a good idea. Gathering that this interrogation is going to end pretty soon, he decides to go ahead and contact your family.

“I don’t feel well,” You blink slowly, handing going to your stomach, “can I get some more water?...”

“Sure,” He can’t deny you water, but he knows when someone is avoiding questions, “but before I get that, I need you to tell me who did this to you.”

You look at him and like a rehearsed scene, you queue the tears. The discomfort on Minho’s face indicates the foolish decision he made to interrogate you alone.

“Y/n,” He looks you over and wonders why you keep messing with the black bracelet on your wrist, “that’s a nice bracelet, is it yours?”

Wiping your tears, you scramble for an answer, “Yes, it’s-...It’s mine.”

“So, if we ran a DNA test on it, the only prints on it would be yours?... Or, was this bracelet given to you by someone, maybe by the man who had you all this time?”

You lower your head onto the table and cover your face with your arms, Yoongi presses his temples—you’re not budging, but Eunwoo insists. In the meantime, he decides to step in the hall and make a few calls to your job, family, and friends.

“Why does it matter!?” You snap, eyes burning red. “It’s mine and if you want it, you’ll have to pry it off of my dead body, I won’t let you take it off for anything, it has nothing to do with this...”

“You’re making this harder than it has to be, you know that, don’t you?” He reaches into his pocket and holds a fist in front if you.

“Remember this? Suzy said you wouldn’t be caught dead without it, but it was on the floor in your house. Is that bracelet just as special as this?” He opens his hand and there sits your favorite necklace, the one your parents gifted you years ago. As much as you love that necklace, this bracelet is just as special, it’s a piece of Taehyung.

You ball your fist, tears welling at your eyes, you don’t care. “Just leave me alone, I don’t wanna talk anymore...”

He sits on the uncomfortable steel bench, arms cuffed behind him. It’s dark, cold, and dreary, but the interior of this place is the least of his worries. He’s never been on this side of the bars, despite deserving it. The gate slides open suddenly, Taehyung can feel the guard's presence but he doesn’t bother looking up.

“Come with me.”

Without a word, he obliged, picking up his feet with heavy strides. The guard holds his arm tight, leading him through the halls to find interrogation room 12.

“Is interrogation room 12 open?” The guard talks to the officer standing at one of the many rooms lining the hall. The two of them strike up a conversation but Taehyung is listening to the conversation down the hall.

“She’s alright, I called her job and her mother, and Jin,” Yoongi paces, peeking down the hall to see the third culprit brought in for questioning, “there will be a lot of happy people when they find out she’s okay.”

“That’s great, I’m glad, I know the last case you had didn’t go this well,” Jungkook flips through the phony contracts that his recent client was given to sign, “I’m about to leave the firm so I’ll have to call you tomorrow, but if you need me to help with the case just let me know.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Yoongi bids him farewell and slips the phone in his pocket. The lawyer had helped a lot in the last missing person case Yoongi was involved in, the victim was in rough shape. It was a young woman kidnapped by an ex, it wasn’t a pretty outcome. The shape they found her in will always be ingrained in his memory, it haunts him that he couldn’t get to her sooner.

Yoongi walks down the hall and Taehyung watches him. He tries to do it in a subtle way, but that’s the man that carried you out of his home while he was being cuffed and pushed into the back of a cop car. Anger bubbled in his chest, the inability to call out to you, to take you into his arms, it hurt him to his core.

Yoongi spares him a glance before going back into the one-way mirrors viewing room and the door closes, preventing him from seeing inside any further. You’re a wreck. It only takes a few seconds for Yoongi to see you balling your eyes out as Eunwoo paces around you to barge in there to put a stop to it.

“I know you’re scared but you need to stop covering for that Man. You’re safe, he can’t hurt you now-”

“Hey,” Yoongi looks at him as if he’s grown a second head, he whispers, “stop, she’s completely shutting down. She needs to be physiologically evaluated before we finish this, look at her,” He gestures to you who’s trembling, breathing hitched with our inability to stop crying, “we can’t do this right now.”

He sighs, pulling Yoongi to a corner, “I’m sorry, I just, I hate to know that somebody did this to her and she won’t say anything, her Stockholm syndrome is on another level.”

“The owner of that house had to be the one who did it, just go to the research lab and they should be able to tell you. I’m taking her to the Melody’s Heart temporary safe house until her family can pick her up tomorrow.”

“Okay, I’m going to step out for a minute.” With that, Eunwoo leaves the room. it takes Yoongi talking you down for about 2 minutes to finally get you to stand up and walk with him. You sniffle, rubbing your eyes as Yoongi walks you out of the room and into the hall.

Taehyung is right there.

Your eyes widen and your gait slows, he’s right in front of you. Yet, the only thing connecting you is your gaze, this can’t be all there is left of your love. Yoongi leads you down the hall and you pull against him slightly. He notices your staring and that when the pieces come together. That’s him.

“Open room 12, officer Cha wants to have him interrogated separately.”

Taehyung watches you disappear, he can’t say anything and he can’t do anything. He gets pushed into the room and into a hard steel chair.

It’s sunset, they drove you about 20 minutes away somewhere, you weren't sure. A woman opened the front door to a huge house, and Yoongi opened your car door, helping you out with a hand. He walked by your side and went inside with you to sign some papers. The woman was kind, she had curly brown hair she was speaking to you with the softest tone. She kept saying you were strong, why was she saying that? With Yoongi lingering behind you, the woman that you know now as Melody takes you to a bedroom on the first level of the house. She said they prepared the room for you, there was even a change of clothes with toiletries on the bed.

“Can I get you anything, sweetheart? You’re our only resident tonight, so I’m all yours.” She’s nice but you don’t feel like company, you don’t feel like looking at any more new faces. You shake your head and she nods in understanding,

“Alright, then I’ll be here if you need anything, Mr. Min, I’m sorry but officers are actually not allowed in the bedrooms of the residents-”

“I’m not an officer, I helped with the case,” He turns to her so you can’t see his face and speaks lowly, “I just need to talk to her for a few minutes, I won’t be long.”

“Alright, just let me know when you’re headed out.” She leaves from standing in the doorway and cracks the door and she heads to the surveillance room that doubles as a bedroom for her.

“Do you want to bathe? I’ll leave if so and we can talk after.” You’ve kicked your shoes off, crawled to the edge of the queen size mattress and curled on your side facing the window. “So, I talked to your parents and they’ll be heading here tomorrow but Jin will probably be here first,”

”Jin?” You sit up, wondering why your ex-boyfriend has anything to do with this. “Why?...”

“He hired me to look for you, he’s the reason I got involved in your case.” Yoongi keeps a safe distance, the little camera hidden behind the plant reminds him of the high-security this place has. “Out of everyone, he called the most, almost every day to get updates about you.”

For a moment, you wonder if he has the correct Kim SeokJin. Because the last encounter you two had was so brief, it was a run-in at the grocery and you two talked about your jobs. It was really adult-like of you, you picked out potatoes as you picked up small-talk with an old flame. But there was no romantic love left, that boat had sailed a long time ago and your brief love for wine replaced it. He’s always cared about you, but you never thought he would be waiting for you.

“I have to go but I’ll be back in the morning, do you need anything before I go?” You shake your head, not wanting to be around him or anyone else any longer. It’s too much, it’s too much for you to handle all at one time and you just want to go to sleep. Maybe you’ll wake up, and this will all be a bad dream, and you’ll be in his arms. He said he would fix this, how is he going fix this?...

Yeosang waited for hours, he called Taehyung at least five times and he has yet to get a response. Something went wrong. In efforts to figure this out, he drove all the way from the meet-up spot to Tae’s house. He could tell the place had been intruded on, Tae never leaves his car outside of the garage at night. He pulls into the driveway, right beside the smokey black Audi R8. This isn’t like him to have gotten caught. The passports were ready, the new house was waiting, everything would have gone fine had the flight been earlier. He has to admit, he was looking forward to giving his good friends a chance at a happy life. He only met you once, but the way Tae talks about you, you two are clearly in love. If he knows Taehyung at all, he’ll receive a call in at least a few hours about what happened. He has to come out of this, that’s what Yeosang chants in his mind.

“So you own the house,” Eunwoo paces, coffee in flimsy Styrofoam cup as he takes a seat across from the culprit, “Kim Taehyung.”

Taehyung acknowledges him with a disinterested glance before staring down at the steel table separating them. He wonders if you’re still in the building, they were taking you away, but where were they taking you? After he was cuffed, he saw Minho’s men get cuffed but Minho and Jimin were gone. If he knows Minho at all, he’ll be back.

“Don’t you hear me talking to you?” Minho hits the table, causing Taehyung to finally looking at him. “Look, for some reason your record is clean. But if we find out that you were involved in any of these murders and this kidnapping, you’re looking at a hefty sentence. Just admit it, you saw a pretty, successful girl living all alone and you thought, why not take her? Are you threatening her, is that why she won’t reveal you?”

“There’s not a scratch on her, does it look like I threatened her?” Taehyung speaks for the first time, the very insinuation that the nature of this kidnapping was to harm you made him sick.

“So, you did it then?” He affirms.

Taehyung shrugs, expression too nonchalant for Eunwoo’s liking. “You know what, wipe that smug look off your face-”

“Cha,” Jaemin opens the door without warning.

“What?” He snaps. “Don’t you see I’m in the middle of something?”

“The chief wants to talk to you, he says it pertains to this case.”

With a resent glare at Taehyung, Eunwoo leaves the room with urgency. Jaemin, however, stays in the doorway, eyes fixated on the acclaimed Hwan Group member that he’s heard so much about from Minho. Kim Taehyung, his record is so clean, he doesn’t have so much as a parking violation on him. If he didn’t know who he was, Taehyung would fly under the radar in his book, he’s that convincing.

“What do you want?” Tae scrutinizes the man, eyes scanning him up and down.

“So you’re Kim Taehyung,” Jaemin closes the door with a soft click, “you really fucked this one up, it’s a shame too, Minho said you were the best. You ruined your record all for that woman-”

“Where did they take her?”

“That doesn’t really matter, let’s just hope Minho can work something out for you, he’s pissed right now,” He shakes his head in and ‘tsk, tsk’ way, “had you just done your job, you and that poor woman wouldn’t be in this mess.”

“She was crying when I saw her, what did they do to her?” He shifts in his chair. “Fucking answer me.”

“Look, stay quiet and you might get out of this alive, that’s all I can say,” And that’s all he says before quickly exiting the room, leaving Taehyung isolated in the cold room, head hung back against the chair. He’s tapping his foot, rhythmically, he’s jittery, anxious with thoughts about you. He promised he would fix this, how can he fix this when it’s so obvious that he’s got the least amount of control in this situation? Hold on Y/n, hold on.

Eunwoo rushes to the Chief's office and without a knock on the cracked door. he steps inside. He closes the door, “Chief, Jaemin said you wanted to see me?-...”

“Hello, Captain Cha.”

“Who are you? Where’s the Chief?“

“My name is Lee Minho, I’m sure you’ve heard my organization, the Hwan group. I know the chief and there’s been a bit of a misunderstanding here. The man you have in custody is a member and he’s only here because he made a mistake and my informant didn’t tell me who was on this case. You know of the Hwan group, the Chief has mentioned you and how you’ve dismissed some cases in compliance with the partnership we have.”

“This is really an HG case?” Minho nods. “The Chief never told me anything about dismissing this case. There were multiple murders and kidnapping, that’s not the typical HG favor.”

“That’s because the man assigned to the job often does high-profile jobs but stays under the radar. Unfortunately, he didn’t follow the instructions of the job. It was a multiple person execution but he had to go back and get that woman because he missed her. He led me to believe that she was dead but I found out recently that he’s been hiding her from me. I went to his house to confront him and here we are.”

“But the pardons I’ve made have never been for HG jobs that involved things like this. He murdered innocent people-”

“My organization has helped get rid of a lot of bad people and my people have worked in situations where cops just aren’t trained in. They get the job done if they chose to take it, no questions asked. Anyone who’s willing to pay can seek my group for help. They’re pawns, and Taehyung was one of my best. He takes a job and he does it, no sentiments attached. But for this woman, I don’t know,” He shakes his head at the thought, “he just couldn’t do it and that messed up everything, his reputation is screwed. Now I’m here trying to clean up his mess, a little. I’m sure you’ve spoken with our middleman, Na Jaemin, he was supposed to monitor this case to ensure things didn’t end up like this. But since it couldn’t be helped, I’m here to propose a deal.��

“Okay, what kind of deal? Because someone has to pay for this,” Eunwoo paces, “her disappearance has been televised and in the articles, she was a writer, people knew of her work from her publisher and they've been anticipating her return for months. We can’t just say she’s been found and then not give them any more than that. People will want to know where she’s been and who took her. Someone has to be held responsible other than Leu.”

“No, that’s not entirely true. We can arrange a cover story and Taehyung can be released to me.” He reasons. “And the girl stays free.”

“What about justice for her? She’s been-”

“Trust me, she’s not happy about this ‘rescue,’ it’s not what you think, she loves him.” Minho recalls the act of affection you two shared and how you pleaded to stay by his side, “I’m sure there are some psychological factors but at the end of the day, they are romantically involved, that’s probably why she’s so apprehensive to say anything, she doesn't want to say anything that might ruin her chances of seeing him again.”

“Woah...wait, I don’t think this is a consensual relationship if it were, why wouldn’t she say anything about is?”

He shrugs, “Doesn’t really matter at this point, here’s what needs to happen; I’ll take Taehyung back because he’s still under contract for a full year after this year ends, he has a job to do. In exchange, I’ll set up the cover story and the two of them can never make contact again, how does that sound?”

“Hm,” He takes a moment to consider the possibility of something going wrong, “them not making contact would put him in the clear and isolate her from any association with the group. That sounds foolproof but what if they don’t agree? If they’re together like you say, who’s to say she won’t rat on the group or he won’t try to find her anyway? I don’t see how we can get her to go back to her regular life.”

“She’ll never go back to her regular life, not really. I’ve known Kim for years, he’s not a monster but that doesn't change the fact that she was kidnapped, isolated from society for months and all she had was him. We’ll have to tell her what’s going on of course, but I doubt she’ll squeal if it means putting him in prison. They’ve said their goodbyes, it’s not a love story to be salvaged anyway. He doesn’t have a family he has very few friends and he has a ton of money, a huge house in a nice part of town, he’s got everything.”

“What if he refuses?”

Taehyung broke under the hand of a thing like you, the idea that he is emotionally impenetrable is long gone. Minho straightens the collar of his dress shirt and leaves the room to go deliver the news. “He doesn’t need her, his job doesn’t allow for distractions like her, and he knew that when he signed up; he’ll get over it.”

The door creaks and he expected it to be one of those officers, but Minho emerges with a guard who quickly walks over to take off the cuffs. Aside from the guard who just scurried out, Minho isn’t accompanied by anyone and he doesn’t look like he’s seen two seconds in a pair of handcuffs. He knew his boss had connections in high places but he never imagines it was to this extent.

“I am upset with you, Taehyung,” Minho circles around the chair, hands on the back of it, “you don’t know the strings I’ve had to pull to keep this quiet. What were you thinking? You knew the job, but you deliberately put your self in harm's way when you decided to hide her from me.”

“Had I told you she was alive, would you not have tried to kill her?” His tone bites.

“Probably, but it doesn’t matter what I would have done, you were supposed to do it.” He stresses. “I didn’t take the job Taehyung, you did.”

Tae diminishes a bit, the guilt of it all coming to the forefront of his mind. At the end of the day, no matter how many people actually wanted to harm you, he’s the one that signed up to do it. And it hurts, it hurts because he loves you, you love him and he doesn’t deserve if, but he wants it more than anything.

“Where is she?”

“I think they took her to some safe home, she got hurt but she got medical attention for her injuries. Now that she’s taken care of, I’m getting you out of here. I arranged a deal with the chief and it gets you out of this mess scotch free.”

“Okay...What’s the catch?” He knows there’s a catch, there always is.

“Your contract isn’t up, you have a little over a year left with the organization and despite how frustrated I am with you, you’re good at your job. You have to finish your contract.”

“And if I choose not to?” He asks daringly.

“If you choose not to, any immunity you have from the law because of the organization goes away, that will most likely land you in prison. But if you finish, your record stays clean.”

Tae doesn’t have to weigh his options to make a decision, but Minho hasn’t mentioned you. “What about Y/n? Will she be safe under this deal?”

“Of course, a cover-up story is arranged and she gets to go back to her everyday life,” He grins, “everyone's happy.”

A glimmer of hope comes to his eyes. “Then I can be with her, and no one will know about the kidnapping?”

“Oh, no. She’s staying here and you’re being transferred to the Europe division of the organization, you’ll reside in Bordeaux, France and travel throughout Europe for jobs. The deal is that you never see her again, it guarantees there can be no association between you two.”

“What? No, no...I can’t do that, I love her, she means everything to me. I won’t leave her, not without an explanation. We were gonna leave before you showed up, make a new life with all of this shit behind us,” His nose burns and he bites back a tear, “I-...I wanted to marry her one day, I can’t just leave her here.”

“You don’t have a choice, your flight leaves in the morning if you’re lucky they’ll let her out and you might be able to say goodbye one last time. Come on, we need to get out of here, you have to pack up. Do yourself a favor and try to forget about her, she’ll eventually do the same.”

This can’t be it, this can’t the end everything he’s built with you. He promised he would fix this, how can he fix this if he’s on the other side of the world? The thought of going to get you and running came to mind, but he can’t make you live like that, on the run like outlaws, he loves you too much. He has to fix this but you’ll have to wait. His heart aches, he knows you’re probably alone and confused. This is all my fault, this is my fault.

203 notes · View notes

stomp-that-ho-regard · 3 years

Text

I typically don’t do asks (I've only ever gotten a few), but a recent one got my gears turning and I wanted to reply.

(This is a secondary blog, so I can’t answer asks in the usual way.)

Your post about the retcon is so fucking good, I wish every critter saw it and actually thought about how shitty it was done, but then their belief in the cast and show would probably start cracking.

Thank you for liking the retcon post. I’ve seen various people in the tags thank me for making that post and have said that it’s helped them ‘feel less insane’. None of us are insane. We are not delusional. We didn’t experience a mass hallucination. These things happened, and they’ve been thoroughly documented. Hundreds of hours of material over the course of three years.

The people who should read that post won’t ever see it because I have all those assholes blocked lol. If they did manage to find it somehow, I know they would just mock it, as they’re wont to do with any of our criticisms. They’re so far up CR’s ass, they��ve convinced themselves that a retcon didn’t happen. Even shoving the literal definition of the word in their faces wouldn’t wake them up.

It's just so fucking weird to see how the group is acting now, and I'm pretty sure we're never gonna get a Laura&Marisha episode picture and a TM episode with those 2 for the rest of the campaign. It feels like when a non-canon wlw ship gets big on a TV show and suddenly the actresses can't be seen or interact with each other anymore🙄 it's the same fucking pattern and like you, I thought I wouldn't have to deal with this on a d&d show.

I specifically want to address the “It feels like when a non-canon wlw ship gets big on a TV show and suddenly the actresses can't be seen or interact with each other anymore” because I’ve thought about that pattern too. (Not so much with Marisha/Laura ‘cause them being on TM together is already a rare combo. If they don’t appear much or at all going forward, I don’t think it’s because of this, though it really wouldn’t surprise me. But, I have been thinking about that specific pattern in regard to their characters.)

I can make a comparison between this situation and what happened with the show A/gent Carter and the way the ship Cart/inelli was handled.

I know that might sound weird, but stay with me here lol...

I want to make it clear that I’m not comparing the relationships at all. Cart/inelli did not have nearly the same amount of build-up and depth as Beaujester, (or quite frankly, their level of possibility.) What I am comparing is the creators over-the-top reactions to these characters being shipped so hard and the extreme measures they went to in order to ‘remedy’ that.

The ship included P/eggy Carter and A/ngie Martinelli. The show was set in New York. Angie was a waitress (who wanted to be an actress/be on Broadway) at the diner that Peggy frequented. They ended up talking quite a bit and became fairly close. That ended up kind of becoming the core relationship in the entire first season, and LOTS of people started shipping it.

At the time, no one was calling us crazy or delusional. At most it was, “This is ABC! They’re not gonna pair her with a woman!” and of course the obligatory “But Peggy’s not gay!”. But no one was calling us names or being generally cruel. And anyone who tried it was ignored because everyone else drowned them out. The ship became extremely popular on Tumblr and Twitter. Both actresses were very positive and supportive. They regularly liked/retweeted romantic Cart/inelli fanart on Twitter. Even one of the female writers on the show got behind it too. It was asked about frequently at conventions and no one booed or rolled their eyes. The questions were never dismissed or made into a joke. (Honestly, this was one of the better overall fandom experiences I’ve had on here.)

And all of us were super excited for S2. Not just because of all the support, but because they had ended S1 with Peggy and Angie moving in together. Peggy had purchased, either it was a really fancy apartment or house (my memory is fuzzy on this), and she literally asked Angie to stay with her. Needless to say, that fueled the flames even more.

But despite the actresses and at least one writer being on board, between S1 and S2, something shifted.

Clearly, the showrunner and/or the execs, took a look at all of this and deemed it a ‘problem’. When S2 finally came around, suddenly everything was different. Instead of both of them living together in New York, instead of it being an organic (I’m beginning to hate that word) continuation from where they left off, Peggy decided to move to Los Angeles to do work for some agency out there or something, and Angie stayed in New York. It’s never explained why. It’s never explained why a woman who so badly wanted to be an actress would NOT want to go to LA, where Hollywood is. LA was never mentioned in S1. There were no hints that Peggy might want to fly out to the West Coast at some point. She seemed perfectly happy in NY, basically setting up house with Angie.

And they didn’t even ease into the change. They just got rid of the character. The actress was bummed about it and Cart/inelli fans tried to put pressure on the showrunner/writers to bring Angie back, which the actress completely supported, but even that fell on deaf ears. So, Angie was simply no longer an entity on that show. Conveniently removed. All the excitement we had was crushed. And of course, the second that Peggy got out to LA, she suddenly had a very obvious male love interest. What a surprise.

The showrunner/writers were not subtle about what they thought about our ship and us. They made the most extreme, nonsensical writing decision in order to permanently separate these two characters. Because, hey, that’s the only way to get the shippers to STOP, right?

This was what I was reminded of when I started seeing the turn that post-hiatus CR was taking. It ended up being a weird combination of kneejerk erasure (BJ) and heavy-handed overcompensation (BY).

But of course, CR is not a TV show, it’s D&D. And they can’t force one of their PCs to just disappear, so what do they have to resort to? Not interacting.

We all know how severely neutered Beau and Jester’s general relationship has become. It’s clear to me that both Marisha and Laura felt they had to do that. They had to suddenly have their characters stay away from each other as much as possible so they could prioritize Fjord and Yasha, and speed-run into romances with them. They started acting as if either of them giving the other one ounce of affectionate attention (like they had been doing so often and so naturally before), would be breaking some sort of hidden ‘relationship code’. Almost like if they ever hugged again, the studio would go down in flames.

The very obvious fact that they went to these lengths, to me, proves two things...

One, it proves the retcon even more, because you can tell that the way they behaved with each other DID in fact change. The frequency of interactions and the way those interactions would play out. Whenever they interact now, it seems like they’re trying to keep it as short, thin, and almost comedic (to the point of goofiness, and not in a good way) as possible. Their engagement seems half-assed and dull. The sounds of their voices, their facial expressions... completely sanitized. Even all the physicality they had is gone; the touches, the hugs, the cuddling. Every single aspect is different and they absolutely did that intentionally. This had to happen because they needed to dupe the viewers into believing that despite overall interest waning, their threadbare connections to Fjord and Yasha are more important, and were always more important then their connection to each other, that we all watched them steadily build. (And watched them pick up steam from about ep70 onwards.)

And two, that whole intentional decision to cut themselves off from each other, proves to me that their interactions pre-hiatus were indeed tinged with ‘something extra’, that was more than just friendship. They both recognized it and that’s why they pulled back so hard. That’s why soft touches and hugs and cuddling are no longer ‘allowed’. That’s why quiet, heartfelt conversations are no longer ‘allowed’. Because if there was absolutely nothing there, if they didn’t see/feel any romantic chemistry simmering underneath, and it was all just platonic BFF stuff, why would they suppress their behavior so drastically?

I think that all of this really does cement what I said in my retcon post: That there are disingenuous patterns being used here that I’ve seen far too often in media. In A/gent Carter, it was a character separation, in CR it was a character dynamic separation. Both done on purpose, to make the shippers shut up, and to push a different plot.

One is scripted, the other is unscripted, but the situations feel disgustingly similar, don’t they?

#op #ask #long post #i feel like i'm just retreading old ground here #still cathartic though

16 notes · View notes

an-absolute-travesty · 4 years

Text

Let me go

~Writing strike is over!~

*confetti*

Hopefully that taught the general public to appreciate writers a bit more

There was no prompt for this, I just wanted to write it :)

Massive tw for: major character death, grieving, blood, panic...this one is rough, friends

Word count: 1,701

About: kam angst

Tag list (tell me if you want to be added or removed):@you-are-the-vacker-legacy @ruewen-and-rising @lemontarto @a-lonely-tatertot @clearlykeefitz @percabetn @vibing-in-the-void @sewersewersewercouch @everyonehasthoughts @imaramennoodle @enbies-and-felonies @blxckh0les42 @rainbowtay-11 @littlemisscupcake

Tam was making lunch for his boyfriend when he got the hail. Keefe himself sat in his art studio, working on a project that Tam apparently wasn’t allowed to see yet. Their anniversary was coming up though, five years of success. Tam suspected it was some present to do with that. Maybe a nice landscape, they needed something to sit over their mantel.

“Hello?”

Dex’s voice came from the other end. “Tam, we just got word of a possible Neverseen attack in Atlantis. We think it might just be a few crazy extremists, no leaders spotted yet. but since you and Keefe are closest we need you two to check it out. No interactions required, just a scope out.”

“Got it, be there in five.”

~*~

It...wasn’t just a few extremists. If that wasn’t obvious enough.

“Shit,” Tam said in a harsh whisper, pulling Keefe far behind a wall as he crept around the corner.

“What? Who is it?”

“A certain mommy dearest.”

Then, someone appeared behind him. Tam couldn’t remember who. Couldn’t remember how. All he knew was that he was shoved from his safe spot into the open.

“Hey boss, we got a visitor. Remember the little shade boy?”

He quickly moved to a place of defense, shadows prepared.

“Oh yes, I remember him. Shame, he wasn’t the goal. Ruy?”

The man turned.

“Be rid of him.”

Everything went to slow motion. A throwing knife was hurtling towards him. He braced for impact, there was no way to dodge it. Aimed right for the heart.

Only then he saw the flash of movement. Keefe fell back into Tam, the wound in his chest just starting to bleed.

“No!” Did it come from him or Gisela? Tam couldn’t tell, his eyes trained on Keefe’s face as he gently lowered him to the ground.

“Oh you fucking idiot.” Tam didn’t know if he was talking to himself or Keefe. Maybe both. He went to remove the knife from where it sat lodged in Keefe’s heart.

“No,” He said weakly. “Leave it, less bleeding.” Somewhere in the background the Neverseen had gotten away, Tam never found out what their goal was that day. He was sure they didn’t get it, though.

Keefe held Tam’s face in one hand, staining him with blood.

“You have beautiful eyes you know. I’ve always loved your eyes. I hope I get to see them again.”

“Keefe, don’t talk like that, you’ll be fine, we’ll get Elwin in here and-”

“No.” He took a break to cough, it left blood rolling down his chin. “No, Elwin can’t do anything for me. You can hail him, I’d rather go in the infirmary than the street.”

“Keefe-”

“Go, call him. It’ll make you feel better, love”

So he did.

Elwin was there fast, 10 minutes at most.

It took entirely too long.

~*~

Keefe passed out on the way to he infirmary. He still laid asleep as Elwin frantically rushed to grab something that might heal him. The contrast was awful, half to death and Keefe looked calm in the chaotic room all while being soaked with his own blood.

Bullhorn was laid beside him. Having Sophie around, it wasn’t a too uncommon sight, but everything felt more grim when the typically white sheets had gone red.

Finally, Elwin stepped back. Tears shined in the physician’s eyes.

“I’ve done what I can. It was a deep wound. Now we-” He got choked up. “Now we can only hope.”

Tam creeped towards the bed. Bullhorn laid scarily still next to Keefe, silent and unmoving.

He touched his forehead to Keefe’s as tears streamed down his face.

“Please stay,” He whispered. “Please wake up, please. You- you can’t just leave me, please, I love you.”

A hand moved up to cradle Tam’s face.

“Hey...Bangs Boy.” His voice was weak, but there.

Tam couldn’t tell who was crying anymore, him or Keefe. Maybe both.

Tam held his face, almost not believing he was real.

“Keefe! Please stay here, stay awake, stay with me please, love.”

A sad smile came across his face. “I wish I had that option, but...if I don’t, then please don’t look at what’s in the studio, okay? Please promise me you won’t look at it, Tam.”

“I promise.” Tam said without a second thought.

More friends rushed into the room then, hoarding around his bedside. All the best friends, they hadn’t talked all together in months.

How gruesome that this was the only thing that brought them all together.

The spent the next hour together, talking about old stories, laughing even. The room was still somber. Tears were exchanged with sad and nostalgic smiles, remembering the years they spent together. Suddenly, Keefe interrupted after being quiet for some time.

“Guys…” He said in labored breaths. “Please leave the room. I don’t want you all to have to see this. I love you all, and...and I better see you at my wanderling planting.” Everyone paused, before solemnly lining up and mumbling their last goodbyes. Sobs were heard throughout the room and eventually they all filed out into the hall, their wails could be heard from inside the infirmary.

Tam didn’t move from his spot.

“You always were stubborn, Bangs Boy. That’s why I love you.” His tone was raspy and harsh.

“I love you, too.” Tam said, voice cracking, as he wrapped his arms around Keefe. “Why couldn’t you just let me take the knife?”

He didn’t answer at first, just pulled Tam’s face up to look at him. He smiled fondly but there was an obvious sadness to it.

“You have so much to live for. Linh needs you.”

“Linh can live on her own, she’s stong.”

Keefe shook his head. “Let me go, Bangs Boy.”

“I can’t, I’ll never let you go, you’ll be fine-”

“Tam…” He trailed off, the sentence left unfinished as he winced in pain. Keefe’s typically tan face had gone ghostly pale, his perfectly mused hair now sat in limp strings on his forehead.

“Hey,” He managed, holding the unhealable wound on his chest. “I think I’m...I think I’m heading out. I can’t really feel my toes. Tell everyone that my last words were ‘Cassius is a little piss baby,’ I can’t let him think I forgave him in my last moments.”

Tam smiled, Keefe could always make him smile, even in moments like this.

Keefe simply held Tam’s face, a thousand words left unspoken.

His last were simple.

“I love you,”

Before Tam could reply, he was gone.

~*~

There were a lot of people at the wanderling planting, too many. All the random people from Foxfire that Tam barely knew, random citizens, every councillor.

Too many.

Everything moved far too fast to keep pace with Tam’s mind that felt as if it dragged across the floor. Mourners would only pay their respects for a few moments, unless they were a close friend.

Too many. Too fast.

The ceremony was confusing. Tam didn’t understand it, it was just too much for him to handle. He hadn’t been to one before and was now meant to lead it while still in mourning.

Too many. Too fast. Too much.

Before long he couldn’t stand it anymore, he ran off into the forest. Not paying attention to direction. He heard yells calling him name.

Too many. Too fast. Too much. Too loud.

Too bright, why did they have to wear green?

Too lonely, it was just him and Linh again.

Too sad, he couldn’t do this.

Too many. Too fast. Too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too lonely. Too sad. Too many. Too fast. Too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too lonely. Too sad. Too many. Too fast. Too much. Too loud. Too bright. Too lonely. Too sad. Too much. Too much. Too much. Too much. Too much. Too much. Too much.

He found himself sitting at the base of a tree, he didn’t know who’s. He couldn’t handle it. He had to go...somewhere. He didn’t know where. He had to get away from this place. The ceremony could go on without him.

He took out his home crystal, ignoring the voices still searching for him in the labyrinth of trees.

~*~

Tam stumbled into his previously shared home, face finally dried, but still red and puffy.

Pictures on the walls shook as he slammed the door, a plate fell from its place in the cabinet but he payed it no mind.

Somehow he ended up in the art studio...well Keefe’s art studio. Though, he guessed he wasn’t so much now.

Tam sat down in front of the large, tarped piece that Keefe had been hiding from him for weeks.

It was probably just a landscape. Tam kept telling himself that. Just a landscape, that was what they talked about.

And yet...he couldn’t help the curiosity.

Keefe’s last wish was to not look at it. How could he disrespect that? But if it was just a landscape...why would that be his last wish?

Tam slowly unveiled the painting.

It was a portrait.

Of him.

In the painting he was smiling, his whole face was lit up, the bags now present under his eyes were missing.

Why would he hide this?

Tam flipped over the canvas, a piece was folded paper was stuffed in between the wood. It looked like a preparation for a speech, the ideas he decided not to use, crossed out.

“Tam would you-

Tam you know what would be really super cool-

But, consider if you just-

Ugh this is harder than I thought it would be

Hey uh..you are cooler than like...a whole pan of mallowmellt

UGH

Tam...I love you more than life. I want to be with you for the rest of it. Would you please give me the honor of marrying you?

HAH I DID IT!!! Now I just have to...actually do it.”

Tam slid to the ground, a sob escaped his body and tears slicked his face.

~*~

Their anniversary was coming up.

Five years of success.

On the day, Tam took the note to his tree.

“Let me go, bangs boy”

He couldn’t, he wouldn’t.

“I love you, too”

#kotlc #keeper of the lost cities #kam #keefe sencen #tam song

75 notes · View notes

gamergirl929 · 4 years

Text

A Player Tamed (Christen Press x Reader)

Anonymous Request: Idk if you’re still taking requests but if you’re willing to or free to do one. I’d love a continuation of the christen/fuckboi reader. I also just love your stories. I read the ones on tumblr all the time. I actually read a fish out of water before I even knew it was you. Amazing writer. I hope you always find love and enjoyment in writing

Oh my god, you’ve been reading my fics for a pretty long time even if you didn’t know it was me right away. ;D <3 Still thank you for your support!

Sequel to: A Player By Default

REPOST BECAUSE FIC WASN’T SHOWING UP IN TAG AGAINNN

“You would never believe that a couple months ago Y/N was a horn dog.” Kelley snickers, firing a ball at you across field and smacking you in the side of the head.

“What the hell Kelley!?” You yell, the defender grinning as she nudges Sonnett.

“Pay attention and stop staring at your girlfriend!”

Your eyes widen, your cheeks flushing pink as you turn to Christen who gives you a massive grin, the grin that always makes your heart skip a beat.

Another ball flies at you, the culprit Tobin, who giggles when it hits you in the back of the head.

“I can’t help it!” You yell, your teammates all laughing.

Christen jogs over to you, your bottom lip jutted out in a pout.

“They’re picking on me...” You sniffle, the woman throwing her arms around your neck, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips.

“They’re just jealous.”

You snarl when another ball flies your way, the black and white ball getting too close to Christen for your liking.

Kelley’s eyes widen in horror as you chase after her, the defender running as fast as she can.

“You crossed the line Kel!” You yell, the defender swallowing hard as she runs.

“I’m sorry! Christen! Don’t let her kill me!” She yells, the forward shrugging.

“You asked for it Kel.”

“You tamed the fuckboy once! DO IT AGAIN!” She yells and you growl.

Christen watches as you eventually gain on her, football tackling her to the ground, the two of you wrestling.

“Better stop them before they kill each other.” Alex mumbles her eyes going wide when you yell.

“SHE BIT ME.”

***

Christen’s cheeks flush when she catches you staring out of the corner of her eye, the woman giggling.

“Stop it.” She whispers, nudging you and you shrug, leaning towards her as the bus jostles the two of you.

“I can’t help it.” You whisper, kissing her cheek. “Just appreciating my girlfriend is all.” You shrug and Christen grins.

“You can never get enough of saying that, can you?” She asks and you shake your head.

“Nope.”

You lean in, pressing a kiss to her lips, a groan sounding from one of the seats nearby.

“My teeth are rotting from all this sweetness.” Emily groans and you roll your eyes, pressing a kiss to Christen’s cheek before resting your head on her shoulder.

“Leave the happy couple alone.” Tobin leans over, flicking Sonnett on the head, the blonde grumbling angrily.

You snicker as the two women bicker, turning your head to kiss the curve of Christen’s jaw.

“Idiots.” You whisper, Christen giggling.

“Our idiots.”

***

You wince, loudly.

The game had been in the USWNT’s favor for the entire game, though that wasn’t the problem.

The problem was that one of your old flings had her eyes on you the entire game, helping you to your feet whenever possible accompanied with a charming smile.

The second the whistle blew for the end of the game you broke out into a literal sprint and lept behind your girlfriend, ducking down behind her.

“Protect me.” You whisper, the brunette snorting loudly.

“Past coming back to haunt you?” Kelley teases and you turn her way with a growl.

“Shhh.”

“What do I do? What do I do? What do I do? What do I do?” You mumble over and over again, your eyes wide when you realize your ex fling is making her way towards you.

Suddenly, Christen turns on her heels, grabbing your jersey and pulling you forward, her lips pressing against yours.

Your eyes remain wide as the woman’s lips move, eventually, she parts, grinning up at you with an arched brow.

You blink once, twice, a third time before you smile, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips, the two of you pulling back with a grin.

You pull her close, ducking down to whisper in her ear.

“Your lips are always so soft.” You whisper, kissing her neck and the woman giggles, her green orbs darting around your face.

“Looks like we got rid of her.” She whispers, turning to face you when you remain silent.

“What?” She asks and you shrug.

“You’re just beautiful, that’s all.”

Christen cheeks flush as she playfully smacks your chest.

“Stop it.”

“What!? It’s true!”

***

Unfortunately, though your and Christen’s relationship had been public for months, still articles were being posted about your past flings.

“Is Christen Press just another one of Y/N Y/L/N’s flings?” Kelley reads the headline and you roll your eyes, pulling the aforementioned woman closer.

“No, she isn’t.” You grumble, Christen tilting her head back to kiss the underside of your jaw.

Movie night had been ongoing when multiple articles were posted about you and the woman in your arms.

“10 reasons why Christen Press and Y/N Y/L/N are couple’s goals.” Mallory grins and you chuckle, nudging your girlfriend.

“Y/N Y/L/N’s past relationships...” Sonnett snickers and your eyes widen.

“Why can’t they just leave me alone?” You pout sadly and Tobin ruffles your hair.

“You’ve got a lot of exes Jesus.” Megan snickers and you growl, eyes narrowed.

You swallow hard, glancing down at your lap sadly.

Christen notes the change in your demeanor, her hand slipping into yours.

Sad Y/E/C orbs meet soft greens and you smile softly, the woman leaning in to press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“It’s okay.” She whispers and you nod uncertainly.

“I know.” You whisper sadly, glancing away.

Christen leans her head on your shoulder, making a note to bring up what happened after the movie ends.

***

“What’s wrong?” She asks as she leaves the shower, making her way to the balcony where you’re standing in nothing but a sports bra and boxers.

You shrug.

“I think you deserve better than me.” You whisper sadly and Christen scoffs, her arms slipping around you from behind.

“No, I deserve you.” She whispers, kissing the back of your neck. “And you deserve me.” You shake your head.

“You deserve someone who hasn’t been through half the NWSL.” You mumble and Christen shakes her head.

“I don’t want anyone else.” She whispers, slowly turning you around until the two of you are facing one another. She cups your cheeks, her thumbs gently tracing your cheek bones.

“I want you.” She whispers and you glance away, smiling bashfully.

“Are you sure...?” You mumble sadly. “Even though I-

Christen leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.

“No matter how many exes you’ve had.” She giggles, kissing your lips again. “I just want you.”

You smile, your cheeks flushed pink.

“I want you too.”

***

Though Christen had been kind, the media, and a number of the fans hadn’t been, a number of them angry about the fact that Tobin and Christen hadn’t been together like many expected.

Your phone chimes loudly and you sigh, looking at the screen with narrowed eyes.

“You bitch, you broke up Preath...” You mumble and Kelley barks out a laugh.

“They’re STILL sending you hate?” She asks and you nod.

“They didn’t take the news too well.” You murmur as Christen rests her head on your shoulder.

Sonnett snorts.

“You destroyed the best love story since Krashlyn.”

Ashlyn stands, bowing dramatically before Ali pulls her back down into her seat, kissing her cheek.

“Knowing you, you’ll fall down if the driver hits the brakes too hard.”

Ashlyn mumbles, smiling though when Ali again kisses her cheek.

“We were not a love story, we’re friends.” Tobin shakes her head, Emily humming.

“Just wait, rumors will start that you’re all three together.”

You snicker, Christen smacking your chest as you shrug.

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind.” You send Tobin a playful wink, the woman rolling her eyes.

“In your dreams.”

You throw your head back with a booming laugh, your phone again chiming loudly.

You look at the screen, barking out a laugh, your body shaking as you cackle, passing the phone to Christen.

The woman’s green orbs widen as she reads the post.

“Oh my god guys, what if they’re all three together...?!”

The whole bus explodes with laughter, everyone laughing whereas you are laughing the hardest.

“I mean, I scored both Christen Press AND Tobin Heath?!” You throw a fist in the air, Tobin throwing something, you’re not sure what, and hitting you in the back of the head.

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding, there’s only one half of Preath I want.” You grin, turning to Christen who blushes.

“And it’s Tobin.”

“You’re an ass.” Christen rolls her eyes, giggling and you shrug.

“I’m YOUR ass.”

***

Over the coming months, the fans, even Preath shippers, started to see how much the two of you cared about one another and slowly swam over to your ship.

“You two are just trying to kill the gays, aren’t you?” Kelley asks as you head towards the locker room, Christen on your back.

“Just trying to win them over, I really don’t like Chris...” You whisper, loud enough for your girlfriend to hear, the woman biting your ear.

“JESUS!” You yell, glancing over your shoulder. “I’m kidding, don’t need to go all Lord of The Flies on me.”

Christen giggles, nudging your ear with her nose.

“And they’re worried about me hurting YOU, you just tried to bite my ear off.” You mumble, the brunette smirking.

“You didn’t mind it the other night.” She whispers and you clear your throat, your cheeks flushing bright red.

“Why’s your face so red?” Lindsey asks and you clear your throat, shrugging.

“No reason.” You squeak the blonde looking at you with narrowed eyes.

The second you enter the locker room you can hear your phone’s notification tone, pinging over and over and over again.

“We just walked to the damn locker room and you broke the fans.” Megan smirks and you grin.

“Chris did it, not me.”

“OW! Stop biting my ear!”

***

The game had again ended in your favor, Chirsten scoring a number of times which of course made you the proudest girlfriend in the world.

You’d scored as well but that paled in comparison to Christen’s goals, the woman’s wide grin as she ran and lept into your arms making your heart soar.

Christen leans down kissing your lips with a grin.

“You did great.” She whispers and you scoff.

“I did great, you did fucking awesome.”

You spin the woman around, the two of you giggling happily.

“Excuse me, Y/N, Christen? May I have a word.” A woman with a mic makes her way towards you, camera man in toe.

You glance at Christen who nods as you place her down on the turf.

“So, let me be the first to congratulate you on an amazing game, do you think the two of you have a shot at the Olympic Roster?” You glance at Christen, the woman grinning.

“Yeah, I think we both have a shot, I mean we’ve both been really consistent with our passes and shots, we just need to keep showing our potential and see where we go from there.”

The reporter turns to you and you shrug.

“I agree with Christen, I mean she said it best, but I think if there’s a guarantee for the Olympic Roster, it’s Christen Press, I mean, the goals she’s been making this season are stellar, she’s one of the most talented women on this roster.” You nod, the forward blushing as she hides her face against your arm.

“It would be rude of me to not congratulate the two of you on your relationship, Y/N, what would you say to some of the fans on social media who’ve been a little... Worried about your relationship with Christen?”

Christen takes a step forward towards the reporter to take the question, but you shake your head, giving her shoulder a squeeze.

“I know you probably have a lot you want to say Chris, but if it’s alright with you I got this one.” You smile and the woman nods, immediately slipping an arm around your middle.

You clear your throat.

“I just want the fans to know that I’ve made a lot of mistakes in the past, but if there’s one thing I can say isn’t a mistake is being with Christen Press.” You swallow hard, completely unaware that everyone has their eyes on you.

“I’d be lying if I said I didn’t make mistakes in the past, I did and I know I built sort of a reputation, but what I want the fans to know is that, I love her and I’ll treat her like she deserve to be treated until she comes to her senses and dumps me.” You chuckle the reporter giggling.

“I’ll let you two go celebrate, great job today guys.”

You nod, turning to Christen who you realize has tears in her eyes.

“What? I’m sorry did I say-

Christen basically tackles you to the turf, her lips pressing against yours.

“Was it something I said?” You laugh, the woman kissing your lips again.

“You love me.” She states, not a question, but a statement the woman already knowing it to be true.

Your eyes widen as they dart around her face, her eyes shining nearly as bright as her smile.

You shrug.

“Of course, I do.” You grin, the woman kissing you again.

“Say it again.”

“I love you Christen.”

“I love you too Y/N.”

#uswnt #uswnt x reader #christen press #christen press x reader #christen press imagine

546 notes · View notes

random-mha-thoughts · 4 years

Text

Jerk (Todoroki x Reader)

Pairing: Todoroki x Fem!Reader

@adainelartz asked: “ I read your oneshots and I think they're great! I wanted to request an angst (sad or hapy end) oneshot where the reader has a fire quirk or something similar, and Shouto and Her had been classmate in elementary or middle school and people used to bully Y/n chan for thinking she could be like endeavor with her being weak or a top hero with a quirk like hers and Shouto just watches every beat ups given to y/n chan and Y/n chan decides to snap in UA and take revenge and targets to hurt Shouto most.”

Genre: Angst to slight fluff

Word count: 3,361

Tags: @yuki-osaki @liviitehe @iamsoftsodonttoucheume-blog

a/n: I swear this was going to take a shorter amount of time to write and it was going to be a lot shorter as well. But what can I say, I’m a writer; I write, my brain starts working, I write more, the gears turns more, what do I do, say no? No, I keep writing.

This ending isn't the best and it feels kind of rushed, but I also didn't know how else to end it and I wanted to hurry and finish it and I already almost fell asleep sitting up at my keyboard at least twice, so I wrote the first thing that came to my head. I hope I did your request justice, babe~ Thank you again for letting me write it~

Also, if you haven’t seen, I hit 600 followers yesterday! Though I don’t know why you all are here, thank you for being here and sticking through my poor update schedule. I appreciate you all. Enjoy the story~

I hate him.

He's oblivious as I bore holes into the back of his head. Mr. I-Got-In-On-Recommendation just sits there studying like the studious boy he is. Everyone thinks he's so great, but I know he's no better than a bully.

"Are you okay, (Y/n)?" Jirou asks, eyeing me warily as he headphone jacks flit around. "You need to calm down, your food's already dead."

Looking down, there were holes in my salmon from me poking at it. "I'm fine, just thinking of something."

"You must be thinking of killing someone then," Kaminari laughs nervously, scooting an inch away from me. "I'd hate to be on the receiving end of that."

He flinches when I smirk at him. "You probably should be." I'm only joking, but after Bakugou, I'm the next scariest person in 1-A. It doesn't help that my quirk is also dangerous.

But it wasn't always that way, unfortunately. Back in middle school, I could barely light a candle with my fire quirk, flames barely stuttering out a cold, dark red flame before collapsing on itself. I've always been vocal about being a powerful top hero, and my quirk should've matched those ambitions. Instead, I was a weakling. No one believed me or took me seriously. They laughed at me, teased me, scoffed at me, disregarded all my dreams. But I never gave up, I kept my dreams close to me and resolved to work harder.

I tried befriending Todoroki just because I thought he could give me pointers, since he has a Fire quirk also, but he wasn't very open to making friends or talking about that half of his quirk. In fact, he was always cold to everyone, but somehow he was still popular. So popular that some girls in my classes berated me for getting close to him. They were my worst bullies; just because I tried being friendly with their crush, they started teasing me about how weak I was, humiliating me in front of the class, writing nasty messages on my desk, pouring water on me. It even got to the point where they started pulling me out after class and during lunch to beat me up. I would be the punching bag or target of all their quirks.

"This is what a real hero fights like! Not some puny whore like you!"

They'd growl and laugh at me, and I couldn't defend myself. And on a few occasions, I'd see Todoroki standing a distance away as I was battered and bruised.

I didn't care that he didn't know it was because of him that I was being abused. I was angry because he just stood there, watching as those girls beat me up and called me names. I curse his apathy, those cold eyes as he stared right at me, met eyes with me, and chose to walk away as if nothing was happening. Just because his quirk is already strong, he looked down on weak fools like me. What a pompous asshole.

Months before entrance exams, I'd had enough of being a busted-up rag doll. I trained late into the wee hours of morning, pouring over countless online guides for unleashing your quirk. The first time I was able to sustain a bright red flame for more than 30 seconds, I almost cried in victory. The more I trained, the more powerful and hotter my flames became, spanning from red to orange to bright yellow, even white in short bursts. By the time the UA Entrance Exam rolled around, I'd attained incredible control over the temperature and sizes of flames I can make. Getting into UA has been my best achievement since I worked so hard for it.

Imagine how bitter I was when I heard Todoroki got in on recommendations.

I wasn't just bitter, I was pissed. A cold, pompous jerk like him got in just because he's known to have a really powerful quirk and his father is a Pro Hero. He doesn't even have a hero attitude! How can someone who doesn't even help a bully victim be a real hero?

From the first day of starting UA, I vowed to make Shouto Todoroki pay for his mistakes.

"Hey, (Y/n)?" Kirishima places a hand on my shoulder as we walk back to our classroom. "You went to the same junior high as Todoroki, right?"

"Yeah, why?" I try not to visibly bristle at his name.

Shark-Teeth hesitates, trying to word his next question as delicate as possible as his features twist awkwardly. "You two aren't very fond of each other, are you?"

"We just didn't talk," I put it bluntly.

Kiri rubs behind his neck. "I would've thought that, you know, since you two have similar quirks you would've at least-"

"He's not a very..." Friendly, kind, decent- "Talkative person. He didn't really have friends in school." I sit down in my seat and pull out my books, signalling I want to end the conversation.

Thankfully, Kirishima recognizes this, mouthing an "Okay..." before retreating to his own seat for class to begin.

Later that day, we're into duo teams for battle trials. My teammate ends up being Ojiro. At least it's not that jerk. As Bakugou and Midoriya fight it out, we're discussing tactics in the back of the room.

"You're much better at close combat than me," I explain, "So you should go out and take on the other members while I guard the weapon. If you need backup, I'll come out to help you." I already anticipate how Todoroki's going to attack. Being pitted against him is the perfect opportunity for me to get back at him.

When it's our turn, we set up inside the building near the weapon. I tug my gloves over my long sleeves. "Stay behind me. Whatever happens, don't panic," I mutter as I stand near the blond's tail.

Ojiro's confused expression is about to ask me why when the entire building starts rumbling. I activate orange fire out of my hands as the ice starts sweeping inside the room. Typical. At first, the ice is about to trap us, but I expand the size of the flames and sweep them over the entire inside of the room, careful not to burn the weapon.

"How did you know he would do that?" Ojiro asks, obviously impressed by my foresight.

"Instinct. Todoroki's going to come in here thinking he's frozen us to capture the warhead. When he does, I'll distract him while you run out and get the jump on Shoji, okay?"

As I predicted, Todoroki strolls into the room, eyebrows furrowing when he sees the room is completely rid of ice. "What-"

I don't give him chance to react as I blow orange flames directly at him. He puts up an ice barrier in the nick of time, my quirk completely encompassing him in heat. I nod for my teammate to hurry, and follows my orders, slipping through the door and bouncing out a window.

You're mine, jackass. I rush at him through the flames, heart pumping fresh rage through my veins. He raises his arm to shoot ice at me, but I jump up above him, propelling myself with flames from my left hand and shooting from my other one at him once I'm soaring near the back of his head. Landing right behind, I swipe his legs before he can spot me, effective in tripping him to his knee. I kick down, sending him onto his face with a groan. Gotcha.

Unfortunately for me, his right arm finds my ankle, sending numbing ice up my leg. "You can't win that easily," I grit out. I step on his free left wrist, hearing the crack under my foot, and shoot another flame blast at the ice on my leg. Ignoring his grunts of pain, I crouch down and pin his right hand behind his back. "And that's checkmate, Todoroki-san."

"Alright, that's enough, Young (Y/n)!" All Might yells out through the speakers. "The villain team has captured the hero team!"

Smirking, I shove Todoroki aside and walk away without bothering to look at him again. "So much for someone getting into UA on recommendations," I mutter to myself.

Once I'm out of the building, Ojiro raises an eyebrow at me. "Where's Todoroki?"

I simply shrug. "He'll be down in a little, I guess."

Turning back around, the jerk is exiting out of the building, nursing his left wrist against his chest. I face away quickly, just a twinge of guilt invading my mind.

"Hey, (Y/n), I think he's hurt," Ojiro's calm voice points out.

I scowl at him. "It's just his wrist, he'll be fine," I bark, stomping off to the rest of the class. It's not fair that I feel guilty, he deserves it!

"You sure there's no beef between you and Todoroki?" Kirishima asks as he walks next to me at the end of the day.

"Fuck off, Shark-Teeth!" I'm still in a bad mood. It's just his wrist, come on! "One trip to Recovery Girl and he was completely fine, I don't know why everyone's so bent out of shape about it!"

"Because you didn't even help him afterwards. That's kinda not heroic, don't you think?"

I round on him, about to grab his shirt and blast him in the face, instead choosing to clench my fists. "You don't know what 'mean' is! Stay out of this!" I walk away from him without looking back, mumbling to myself. How can he say that about me not being heroic? If he knew what Todoroki did, he would say the same thing.

On my way to the train station, I spot that familiar mop of bicolored hair staring at me with the same neutral gaze I hate. Glancing down, I see his wrist is fine before quickly darting away. Pompous jerk making me feel bad.

After that day, this idiot always had the audacity to stare at me. I always feel his eyes on me, it's so annoying. And he makes it so obvious, he doesn't even look away when I catch him, he just stares at me. It's enough that Kirishima's words got to me, I don't need him confusing me with this staring contest we have going on. If he wants to talk to me, he should do it already.

During the next few training sessions, we began sparring against each other with our quirks. People have slowly been becoming scared of me during these times because of how rough I was.

Once, I got to fight Bakugou. It was really fun going all out against someone who's just as aggressive.

This time, my opponent is the jerk himself. When Aizawa announced the pairs, Kirishima was about to pull me aside, but saw my murderous look and chose he would like to live. Everyone around us found their partners and started their individual training. While the two of us stared at each other from across the mat. I want to smash his emotionless pretty face in, I hate that I don't know what he's thinking!

If he's not gonna make the first move, I will. I rush up to him, igniting the flames in my palms. He's ready for me this time, standing his ground as I bound up and hunkering into a fighting stance. I throw up a hand towards his face once I close in on him, ready to blow his face off.

Todoroki catches my hand by the wrist, bringing his right hand up to trap me in an ice coffin. I slap that hand away and explode out a burst of orange flames, making him let go and stagger a few steps back. He immediately sends a trail of ice down to secure my feet in place, but I respond by directing both my hands downward, propelling myself off the ground and towards him in a giant, sweeping leap.

The familiar weightlessness of being in the air fuels the adrenaline pumping through me. He's my enemy, and I'm taking him down.

As I launch more continuous blasts at him while I soaring towards him, Todoroki coats his arm with ice to block his face. But he's in for a surprise. Moving close enough, I drop kick his arm down before landing a punch straight in his face. My body lands on top of his torso, pinning him to the ground. Winding back to land another punch on him, he suddenly launches his upper body upwards, headbutting me in the nose.

I let out a pained growl, reeling back as I feel the tingling of tears pooling in the corner of my eyes, and Todoroki uses this opportunity to flip us over so he's on top. Placing his hand on my shoulder, I'm instantly plunged into an ice coffin under him. Heaving out an icy breath, he slowly rises to his feet. The puckered skin of his scar already starts swelling into a bruise where I punched him, and forehead cracked from where he headbutt my nose.

The anger boils my blood hot as my flames. He's not winning over me! I'm not letting that happen! With a growling scream, heat floods from my iced palms before I'm broken free from my confines. White and blue flames erupt from my hands, directing them straight up at Todoroki. The ice barrier he puts up to protect himself melts faster than ice cream on a hot day against this new color of my fire. It continuously flares out from me as I stand up, pointing right at him and getting closer. I ball my fist up and throw my fire-coated fists at his forearms, the anger still building inside me. I want him to yield before me already, so he can pay for his sin.

Even after my quirk blinks out, I continue punching at him, blinded by both rage and hot tears. It wasn't until something wrapped around my arms and restrained me suspended slightly off the ground that I finally stop.

"I'm not putting you down until you're cooled down," Aizawa growls, his quirk and capture weapon smothering me.

Everyone was already staring at the scene. Although I scowl, I go limp and show no signs of resistance. When my body finally relaxes, I feel a sharp pain shooting up my hands and forearm. Once I'm free, I inspect my hands, noticing the beginning blisters of burns coating everything from my fingertips to my elbows. Ouch. My fire's never done that before. It's probably those flames I used. The dull pain in my nose starts throbbing.

"Both of you took this training a little too seriously," our teacher glowers at us. "I'll deal your punishment later. Can I trust that you won't kill each other going to see Recovery Girl?"

"Yes sir," we both mutter out.

The walk over there was quiet. I trudged ahead because I didn't want to see his face, but I had to feel his gaze bore into my skull again. After a good scolding from Recovery Girl, we were told to rest for a little while in the office before going back to class. I try to lie back and ignore him, indulging myself in quiet. I was so full of emotion that my flames turned hotter than they have before, but I have to use them sparingly since they can burn my normally fire-resistant skin. I'll have to make some adjustments to my hero costume gloves too.

"Do you have a person vendetta against me or something?"

Even just the sound of his blank voice makes me roll my eyes. "Hm, I wonder what could've given you that crazy idea."

Todoroki rolls up to a sitting position and faces me. Just like mine, his arms are wrapped in bandages. Apparently, because I punched him with my white-blue fire, he has some burns too, though not as severe as my own. He peers at me from one grey eye, the other one covered by a bag of ice he nestles against his new bruise. "I'd like to know why."

I clench my fists weakly against the pain. "I really don't feel like burning this office to a crisp right now, so we shouldn't talk about it."

"I think it's only fair when someone's holding a grudge against another, both parties should be clear on what the grudge entails."

Stupid logical idiot. "Fine." I sit myself up with a little more difficulty and flash him a harsh glare. "When we were in Junior High, you pushed me away when I tried to be friendly with you. I know you remember how weak I was and how much everyone else teased me because I said I want to be a top hero, like your dad. You were cold to me that way, but that's not the only reason I hate you. These girls in our class didn't like that I was getting close to you, so they started teasing me, harassing me, and beat me up." I pivot my entire body towards him as I hiss my next words, "And you watched them without interfering. You let a victim get bullied and you did nothing. Someone who wants to be a hero and save people, and got into this school on a recommendation, can't even be bothered to be a hero to his classmates when they're being bullied." Shaking my head, I add, "You disgust me. You're no hero, you're just an extremely powerful pompous asshole. You make me sick."

Todoroki's entire demeanor changes. Instead of the cold expression he always displays, his eyebrows relax out of their furrowed position. He looks down at his wrapped arms. "I...didn't think at the time. Yes, I saw it happen. Frankly, I was disgusted by you having a similar quirk as my father and wanting to be a hero after him." His left hand clenches. "That power repulses me, which is why I never use it in combat. Watching you go through all that, I rationalized to myself that you were strong enough to take it."

His fist relaxes and he bows his head somberly. "I know it's no excuse for what I did, I apologize for that. I take full responsibility for your hatred."

I'm quiet, kind of stunned. I've sometimes imagined Todoroki apologizing to me, but seeing it happen is somehow surreal. Rubbing the back of my head, I admit, "Well, I have to say that it's partially because of you that I was spurred to start training and become as I am now. So thank you, I guess." And although I really don't want to, I also say, "I'm sorry I broke your wrist in training last week. And burned you today. And almost tried to kill you in general. It was all overboard and I've been a huge jerk about this whole thing."

He offers a nod. "I believe it's safe to say our differences have been settled, then. I hope we can patch things up and become better classmates now that this is all behind us."

Without looking at him, I hold out my fist between our beds. When he takes too long, I roll my eyes. "It's a fist bump, it's what f-friends do."

I sense his eyes dart between my definitely tinted cheeks and my fist, before his fingers daintily close over it. "I'd rather do this, if you don't mind."

Peeking over at him, I open my hand, allowing him to gently clasp my hand between his fingers and his palm. A new sense of warmth washes over me when I look into his eyes. Though his features are as non-emotive as ever, his relaxed, mismatching orbs rest on me in what I can only place as support or respect.

"You're strong, (Y/n), and although my previous unfair actions towards you are what primarily coaxed it out, I know you already were in your mind and heart. I look forward to seeing it as we both progress to becoming heroes together."

His slight softening shifts something within both of us. And that moment told me that our new relationship would evolve into something greater.

#todoroki x reader #my hero academia #boku no hero academia #todoroki angst #todoroki shouto #angst to fluff #female reader #todoroki imagine #todoroki scenario #request #mha todoroki #bnha todoroki #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha fanfiction #bnha fanfiction

518 notes · View notes

deathonyourtongue · 4 years

Note

Care Taking Ideas : “Person A giving person B an injection” with Henry or one of his characters sounds adventurous😂💓

Title: Evasion Word count: 1446 Warnings: Needles, tears, anxiety? It’s fluff, don’t worry.

I had to do this with Sy, ‘cause I legit could not figure out how else to work out a non-medical person giving a shot. :P Also as someone who has ZERO fear of needles of any sort (I legit ask them which arm they wanna poke if I have to get bloodwork done), I hope I did the fear of needles justice.

_______________________________________________

Message me if you’d like to be added/removed from the tag list!

@fumbling-fanfics @skiesfallithurts @pinkpenguin7@madmedusa178 @crushed-pink-petals @fangoria @bluestarego@caffeinated-writer @my–own–personal–paradise @tastingmellow @honeychicana @lua-latina @angelicapriscilla @swiftyhowlz @schreiberpablo @pinkwatchblueshoes @kirasmomsstuff @prettypascal @blacklotus-of-the-black-kingdom @nardahsb @playbucky @veryfastspeedz @queen-of-the-kastle @freyahelps @cajunpeach @godlikeentity @captainsamwlsn @nakusaych9@katerka88 @katerka88 @kirasmomsstuff @melaninmimii@alienor-romanova @downtowndk @redhairedmoiraandtheliferuiners @safiras @agniavateira @henryfanfics101 @fatefuldestinies @iloveyouyen

You know you’re due, but you hide out in your office anyway. With all the commotion and paperwork that comes with a tour change, you hope to ride out the last day and have him forget that you’re in need of a shot.

Though you’ve got a full sleeve of tattoos and a chest piece to boot, the mere thought of getting an actual injection makes you queasy. Rolling your neck to rid yourself of the urge to throw up, you guzzle down half your beer and silently focus all your energy into willing the ‘lights out’ call to come sooner.

The door opening breaks your focus, but before you can even move to bar him, Syverson is in and has the door locked behind him. His smile makes it clear he’s up to no good, and though you can’t see a syringe in his hand, you know damn well there’s no other reason for him to be here, so close to the end of his shift.

“Evenin’, sweetheart,” he grins nervously, his eyes scanning the top of your desk for any weapons, finding none.

“I will shoot you in the face, Sy, so help me God.” He laughs, holding both hands up as though surrendering, allowing you to see the bottle of whiskey in his hand for the first time since he entered.

“Easy, doll. Just wanna enjoy a drink with the prettiest woman on base, that’s all.”

“You’re a shit liar and it’s not happening.” You answer, stonefaced as you turn up the metal you’ve been listening to try and calm your nerves.

“What, the drinking, or the fun that comes after?” He asks, taking a seat across from you and reaching to the top of your mini-fridge for two glasses. Pouring expertly, he gives you the fuller glass, making it clear he’s got ulterior motives.

You and Sy have been dating for nearly five years, maintaining the lowest of profiles solely so that you two aren’t shipped off to different corners of the world. Although drinking after lights out is routine for both of you, it’s rare that you’re doing it while still wearing your uniform; usually, you’re both naked in Sy’s room, enjoying the privacy his higher rank brings.

Taking the offered drink, you down it in one go, steeling yourself for what you know is about to happen and vowing that Sy’s not gonna get laid for a week out of spite. Sy watches you shoot the alcohol, his face a mix of sympathy and awe that you can still drink like coed despite having long passed your 20’s. Eyes locking with yours, he gives you that puppy-dog-eyed, crooked grin of his, his chin tilted down for maximum effect. Damn him and his blue eyes.

“C’mere, gorgeous.” He pats his lap and despite your better judgment, you find yourself standing and moving around the desk, pouting as you move.

Sy wraps you up in a bear hug the moment you sit down, his strong arms holding you close as he nuzzles his nose against your cheek, his way of asking for a kiss. Tipping your head down, your lips meet his with petulant reluctance, making him smile as he kisses you back fondly. When he pulls away, he’s smiling ear to ear and you can’t help but melt a little as he gazes up at you with the utmost affection. Your eyes close as his hand cups your cheek and you lean into the touch, feeling the stress of the day dissipate, forgetting the real reason he’s here for a moment.

“Watching you out there today, putting those boys in line and scaring the shit out of the ‘em, was so sexy,” he growls, and you can’t help the soft sound that escapes your lips as he kisses your neck slowly, ‘lovin’ up’ on you as he so often calls it. His lips press against yours once more before he pulls away, his eyes kind despite what you know is an impending betrayal.

“You know I love you very much, right, darlin’?” You let your head fall back while groaning, unwilling to accept that he isn’t just here for you.

“And you know I wouldn’t do this to ya if I didn’t have to, right?” Your head snaps back up and you look at him with narrowed eyes and a lifted eyebrow.

“You don’t have to do anything. You could just let Doc do it.” You counter, poking at one of his pecs accusingly.

“Yeah, well, Doc bruised you last time he gave you a shot, and you passed out and fell off the table ‘cause he didn’t believe you, so...I’m gonna be more gentle, and this time you won’t end up with a concussion. Besides, there’s a treat in it for ya if you hold still and let me do it quick.”

“That’s what she said,” you respond flatly, still not convinced. Sy chuckles, both hands moving up to roll up the sleeve opposite of him.

“Please, Sy, no. Can’t we just wait until...I don’t know, until I cut myself?”

“Out here? Absolutely not. If we were back home, maybe. But I’m not taking any chances with this stuff out here, sweetheart.” He tells you softly, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek even as he fishes the pre-filled syringe and the alcohol swab from one of the many pockets in his pants.

“Hey, look at me, mama. Deep breath.” Sy tells you seriously, his free hand framing your chin as he inhales deeply and lets it out again in a slow rhythmic pattern. Keeping your attention, his eyes never leave yours as he swabs your upper arm, forcing you to keep breathing deeply.

Tears fill your eyes as the smell of the alcohol hits your nose, and the nauseous feeling rises up again just as Sy tucks you in close. Holding your head against his chest, he covers your eyes gently with his fingers, uncapping the syringe with his mouth and quickly moving the needle out of sight. Certain you can’t see it, he wraps his free arm around you tighter, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“Hold onto me, darlin’. Squeeze tight,” he encourages, and you do as he says, crying softly into his favorite shirt, panicking.

“Deep breath. Hold it.” Sy’s voice is soft and patient, a stark contrast from how he normally speaks around others, especially new recruits.

You squeak and cry a little harder as Sy pushes the syringe into your upper arm, hitting the mark with precision and gentility. A flurry of kisses are pressed to your face as he pushes down the plunger, injecting the Tetanus compound deep into your arm. Pulling the needle out as quickly as it went in, Sy presses a fresh patch of gauze to the sight, his hand pulsing gently to ease the sting and burn of the shot.

“‘Atta girl. All done.” He murmurs, recapping the needle before shooting it and the rest of the waste into the garbage can by your desk. His face falls as he lifts your chin and sees that you’re still crying.

“Well, that just won’t do,” he whispers, more to himself than anyone else as he shifts you so that you’re facing him, Sy wrapping your legs around his waist as he stands up. You don’t hesitate to loop your arms around his neck, unable to actually be mad at him, knowing he has your best interests at heart. With one hand under you, the other runs laps up and down your back, comforting you in the best way he knows how.

Taking you back to your room, he sits down on the bed and just holds you, knowing the tears aren’t just from the shot, but from all the anxiety you’ve built up throughout the day to deal with it. Rocking gently back and forth, he lets you cry it out, knowing you need the release. His lips press kisses anywhere they can reach, and after a few moments, you settle, resting your head on his muscular shoulder, hiccuping.

You feel his smile even before you hear it in his voice, Sy’s tone warm and full of love.

“You’re adorable, y’know that? My beautiful, adorable, tough-as-nails sunflower. Relax now, mama, it’s all over.” Sighing softly, you squeeze him gently, a silent thank you for doing everything with such care and regard for your very-real fear.

“What’s my treat?” You ask after a moment, pulling back to look into those gorgeous baby blues of his. His smile turns impish and he kisses your sternum before resting his chin there.

“Gotta be naked to get it, darlin’.”

#henry cavill #captain syverson x reader #captain syverson #captain syverson fic #fic #fluff #deathonyourtongueoriginals

220 notes · View notes

jamielea81 · 4 years

Text

Conversations

Chapter 13

Description: You accompany your friends on a day trip to Animal Kingdom Theme Park where you meet Scott Evans by chance. This one afternoon leads to a year long friendship with both Chris and Scott over text messages and phone calls.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Warning: Fluff, curse words, a little bit of NSFW - If you are under 18 please do not read!

Word Count: 6,700

A/N: I know nothing about the lives of the Evans family and mean no harm. This is purely fiction and for fun. Reblogs and comments are much appreciated! The tag list is now closed. Each chapter tends to get reblogged from me a few times, so if you’re following me, you can’t miss it.

*Italics are internal thoughts

Catch up with Chapter 12

The boys had no clue about your plan. Frankly, no one knew what your plan was. You weren’t trying to be secretive, no, you just didn’t want all the fuss. One week was more than enough time to host someone in your home. Two weeks was outlandish. You would simply tell them later in the week that you were staying in Boston for an additional week. On your own.

You had rented a one bedroom apartment in the city near the harbor. Chris had been putting a lot of extra effort into your relationship recently by coming to stay with you every few weeks. You wanted to see if Boston was a place you could see yourself spending a lot of time in. Staying with Scott or Chris for the second week wouldn’t really allow for you to see if you could be comfortable there by yourself. You wanted to check out the coffee shops, parks, and small eateries. You had read through numerous travel sites and blogs by locals who boasted the neighborhoods that were not only hip, but had low crime rates.

Chris had gone back to Massachusetts from his latest visit just over a week ago and you had already begun to miss him. When he sent you a text three days after leaving, telling you he was missing you, you instantly felt relieved. The two of you had spent a lot of time talking on his visits which ultimately brought you closer. He slept in your bed all three days of this last trip, never pressing for more than a cuddle and a few kisses. Chris spent a great amount of time talking with you into the early morning hours about how it would be when he was away filming. The two of you would need to survive on Skype or Facetime as he was often away for months at a time. He said that you could visit him on set, but your time together would be limited.

The additional week in Boston was born from the vacation time you had to use or lose with the Orlando Sentinel. Asia was quick to agree that your start date with News Now could begin a few days after you returned from your trip. Having the ability to work from anywhere was a huge positive. Your lease would be coming up for renewal in February and you were honestly struggling with staying or leaving Orlando.

Central Florida had been your home for sixteen years, but you were still only renting. That had to mean something. You didn’t miss the long winters of Minnesota, but you did miss your family. Minnesota felt safe and comfortable for a place to start over again, but you still weren’t sure that was the right step for you. Logically, it was too soon to move to Boston. You were never the girl to move somewhere for a guy. Chris was one of the people closest to you, but the two of you were barely a couple. But why the hell was your heart telling you to give it a shot? At least you had a couple of months to figure it all out.

You had swung by Krispy Kreme on the way to Jana’s office armed with a coupon for half off a dozen. Not that you needed a dozen donuts, but a deal was a deal. That’s how you’d always been. You weren’t one of those coupon clippers, but you always shopped on sale and always looked in the clearance section. If there was a bargain to be had, you were a willing participant. This is why even looking at places to rent for the long term in Boston frightened you. Sticker shock was an understatement. You could buy a new, large family home in the suburbs of Minneapolis for the same price you could purchase a studio apartment in Boston. Technically, you could look outside of the city, but that’s something you’d have to think about later when a decision needed to be made.

“I brought food,” you greeted her, shoving the box in her face as she signed you in to the building.

“That’s not food.”

“You can eat it Jana. I’m pretty sure Brooks consumes these five days a week.”

“Fine. Maybe just one,” she replied, reaching into the box and pulling out a glazed one once you got to her office. You gave her a satisfied smirk before grabbing one for yourself. “You ready to work with Brooks again?”

“Is one ever ready? But seriously, I didn’t exactly work with him when he was at the paper so even now I still won’t see him,” you shrugged, taking a huge bite and promptly licking your fingers to Jana’s dismay.

“When are you starting again?”

“Like the twenty eighth. Some time that week. I’m going to try to have something to submit that week. Maybe about my time in Boston. Who knows?”

“You call me the workaholic, yet you’re working on vacation,” Jana said.

“Well, I’m nervous as shit, so I just want to be ready to go with something.”

With promises of dinner together when you returned, you left her office with the box of donuts in hand. Rather than heading straight for the elevator, you decided to stop by Ethan’s office. His door was open, but he was engrossed in a law book.

“Hey,” you called out loud enough for him to hear you but soft enough not to startle him.

He looked up, grinning when he saw it was you. “How are you?”

“Good. I’ve come to tempt you with sugar,” you said holding up the box.

“No bribing needed. Whaddaya got?”

“A little bit of everything,” you said, stepping into the room and placing the box on the desk. You opened it for him to pick. He quickly pulled out one of the custard filled ones, moaning at the taste.

“Thank you,” he murmured, mouth still full.

You gave him an honest smile. Speaking to him the last time you were in the office really got rid of that tension about seeing him.

“You’re welcome.”

“What are you up to?” he asked.

“How much time do you have?” you asked.

“For you? As much as you need.” He gestured to one of the empty chairs in front of his desk.

You told him about the new job and how much you were looking forward to the change. You left out the part about possibly moving since nothing was set in stone, so there was no need to get into that.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he started, you giving him a questioning look. “When I said that stupid thing about your job. 100% didn’t mean it. I was just angry and I aimed low. You’re a great writer. I read everything you wrote when we were together, and I still read it today.”

You gave him a small smile. “Thanks for saying that. And you still read it?” you asked surprisingly.

“Got to get my Disney news from a reliable source,” he shrugs.

Boston’s weather seems to be all over the place with predictions for the next two weeks being anywhere from the fifties to the low seventies. You packed a large suitcase and your trusty leather carryon with a few sweaters, sweatshirts, t-shirts, jeans, leggings and a couple pairs of short boots. You’ll wear your sneakers to the airport. At least that’s one less thing to pack. You’re staying with Scott and Zach, but you toy over bringing your cute yet flirty pajamas and lingerie. You and Chris aren’t exclusive, at least not technically. He told you he isn’t seeing anyone else and isn’t planning on either. But the words boyfriend and girlfriend or partner haven’t been uttered. Taking a guess, he’s most likely waiting for you to say it since he doesn’t want to push you. You’re not even sure how much you’ll be seeing him this trip. He said he’ll be around, but never made actual plans with you. Picking up your cell, you shot him a text.

Y/N: When am I seeing you in Boston.

Chris: All the time?

The fact that he adds that question mark makes you laugh.

Y/N: Well, we never made plans, so I wasn’t sure if you have stuff going on all week.

Chris: You’re such a dork. You’re coming to my town and you have to question when you’re going to see me?

Y/N: I thought it was Scott’s town, you know, since I’m staying with him.

Chris: What?!

Chris: That’s not fair. You didn’t even give me the chance to offer 😔

Y/N: My poor baby. I’ll be sure to kiss it all better.

Chris: You better

Yep, you were packing the cute underwear.

You sent Scott a text as soon as you landed.

Scott: On my way. White BMW.

Grabbing your bag from the conveyer belt, you grabbed a coffee before going out to short term parking where he said he’d meet you. The temperature was a cool sixty-three degrees, so you were dressed in a cozy hunter green sweater, jeans, and browns boots. You thought about throwing on a jacket, but figured the boys would tease you. Minnesota you would have teased you, but you’d been in Florida too long now. Sixty was cold.

Crossing over to the ramp, you looked around for a white BMW as instructed. A sudden honk jolted you, causing coffee to spurt out through the cup’s cover.

“Mother fucker!” you whispered to yourself.

The offending driver jumped out of the car, jogging toward you. “Shit! Sorry!” It was Chris rather than Scott. NASA hat on his head, Pats sweatshirt, and jeans. The epitome of casual, yet it he looked good.

When does he not look good?

“You scared the shit out of me,” you said, dropping your carryon to the ground and hugging him with your free hand. “I should be smacking you rather than hugging you.”

“M’sorry. Wanted to surprise you,” he said pulling away.

You kissed the pout on his lips, Chris smiling as soon you pulled back. He bent down grabbing your bag from the ground and then grabbed the handle on your suitcase. You followed behind him, admiring the view.

He really is America’s Ass.

The drive to Scott’s didn’t take long. He had a large two-bedroom condo in the city. Parking was a challenge, but Scott had purchased a second spot a year ago and since Zach wasn’t’ home, Chris parked there.

He grabbed your two bags while you easily toted your purse and now empty coffee cup into the building’s entrance and up the elevator. Chris walked in without knocking, but you supposed Scott knew you were coming since you did text him when you landed.

“I brought you a gift!” Chris called out.

Scott walked into the entry and living room giving you a big smile. “Oh. Is there a return policy?”

“You are such a brat!” you spat out. “Does your mother have room at her place? Feel like I’d getting a warmer welcome there.”

“Sassy, don’t give me no lip. You know I love you,” Scott said, pulling you into a hug. You let your arms hang to give him that bit of attitude, plus you still had your purse and cup in hand.

“Ahuh, love you too,” you replied.

Scott showed you to your room for the week while Chris followed behind, setting your bags on the floor. Light blue walls with dark wood furniture made up the room. A queen size bed placed in the center with a chest of drawers sat on the opposite wall. A relatively large flat screen TV mounted to the wall above the chest. On each side of the bed were a matching set of night stands. A vase of white daisies sat on the right-hand side.

“Bathroom is across the hall. Dinner is at six. Don’t be late. No fucking in your room,” he said, pointing between you and Chris, closing the door as he left. “Or at least be quiet about it,” he said through the door.

Chris looked at you with raised eyebrows while you shook your head. “Uh, we don’t have to,” he said.

“Well, definitely not now.”

“Yeah. Yeah, totally. That’s just Scott,” Chris said, shrugging. He was nervous and it made you smile.

Chris stayed for dinner but left around eight kissing you breathless before wishing you a goodnight.

Scott, Zach and yourself hit the road early starting with the Freedom Trail, making sure to see the graves of Samuel Adams, John Hancock, and Paul Revere before stopping at the Old State House. Chris had wanted to join the three of you, but when you mentioned he would draw in a crowd being that you would be surrounded by tourists, he was quick to change his mind.

Scott brought you to Beacon Hill where you fell in love with the architecture of the beautiful brick homes. When he told you the average price, you choked on your breath, quickly deciding it wasn’t anywhere you would be able to live.

You moved on to Charles Street, stopping in a few shops to buy something for Jana as well as yourself. When it was time for lunch, Scott and Zach brought you to Cheers bar on Beacon Hill. Scott told you there actually two locations, this one was used for the exterior shots for the show. It was everything you imagined it would be. You were too young to enjoy the show when it aired originally, but picked up on the reruns when you were in your late twenties.

Harvard University was as grand and as beautiful as you imagined it would be bathed in the gorgeousness that is fall. You treated to the boys to ice cream, finding a nice spot on a grassy lawn filled with students and tourists alike. Scott took a few pictures of you with ice cream cone in hand and red and orange leaves all around you. You did the same for each of them. The spontaneous photoshoot turned into a leaf fight as Zach dumped a large handful on Scott’s head.

Nervous seemed like such an inadequate word to describe how you were feeling. You weren’t even a nail biter but you couldn’t keep your thumb out of your mouth as you chewed the corner repeatedly.

“Would you stop it? You’ve met her,” Scott said, taking his eyes off the road briefly to look at you.

“Yeah and she thought I was some floozy.” Scott snorted. “Do people still say floozy?”

“I’m pretty sure they don’t. And you know that’s because she didn’t know you were you. It’ll be fine. She loves you. I talk about you all the time. Well, not all the time, but I talk about you and she loves you.” You took a deep breath. “Now keep that finger out of your mouth. She will judge you for jagged fingernails.”

“Such a brat,” you said softly.

“Me? Do I need to have Chris take you and all your luggage back to his place tonight? Why’d you pack so much anyway? Must’ve packed like three winter coats or somethin’.”

“Shuddup,” you murmured. You’d only been in town for four nights and weren’t planning on having this conversation until Friday. “Was going to tell you later, but might as well tell you now. But do not tell Chris. I will tell him later,” you warned.

“Sounds serious,” he said.

“You know how with this new job I can pretty much work from where ever I’d like?” Scott nodded his head. “I’m still trying to figure that all out. Not that I don’t love Florida. Jana and Brooks are my family there, but I’m thinking it might be time to make a change. I thought about Minnesota since my parents and brother are there, but I also wanted to see how I’d like Boston.”

“What are you gettin’ at Y/N?”

“I’m staying in town next week. I rented an apartment to see if I feel comfortable here.”

Scott let out a low whistle. “Chris is going to be pissed,” he sing-songed the last word.

“You think?” you asked.

“Oh yeah.”

“Like pissed because I’ve thought about maybe splitting my time here or moving here?”

“Oh god, no. He’d probably love the fuck out of that. He’s going to be pissed you aren’t staying with him.”

You didn’t even think of that. The idea of having your own space to see if you’d like being here was still the right decision, but he was right. Chris would probably be upset you didn’t tell him what you were thinking. And he’d probably be mad you weren’t staying with him.

“Shuddup,” you said again.

“Ma! Your favorite son and Sassy are here,” Scott called out after opening the front door to his mother’s house.

“I’m already here,” Chris called from what looked like the kitchen. He walked into the entryway pulling you into a hug. “Missed you.”

“You just saw me at breakfast,” you replied, kissing his lips quickly before anyone else came in the room.

“Still missed you.” He interlaced your fingers and pulled you toward the kitchen. “Cah’mon.”

Lisa, the boy’s mother was in front of the stove, a few pans sizzling on the burners. It smelled delicious, so you knew you were in for a good meal.

“Y/N, it’s nice to see you again. How are you enjoying your stay?” she said turning to face you.

It was all so formal, you instantly jumped into interview mode.

“It’s been quite wonderful. Scott’s been a great host,” you replied.

She smiled warmly and went back to her pans.

“When are the girls getting here?” Scott asked.

“Should be here soon. Why don’t the three of you show Y/N around?”

Chris gave you the tour while Scott plopped himself on the sofa in the family room.

“And this was my room,” he said, opening the door. It was set up as a guestroom with a full-size bed pressed against the center of the far wall.

“So, is this where the Sandra Bullock poster used to hang?” you said pointing at the ceiling.

“Et tu, Brute? Never going to live that down.” Chis said, shaking his head.

“Oh, everyone does it babe. I’m pretty sure I had a couple of NSYNC pictures torn from magazines hanging on my walls. I know I had one of Joey Lawrence.”

“Joey Lawrence?” he chuckled.

“He looked good in Blossom when I was a kid. He had great hair.”

“Yeah? What do you think of my hair?”

You ran your fingers through his hair, giving the end a slight tug. “This hair?” you said softly, your face close to his. “This hair, I can’t get enough of. Probably the sexiest head I’ve seen in a week.”

“A week? You runnin’ your fingers through someone else’s hair?” he asked, his breath hot against your lips.

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

He pressed his lips against yours. Arms instantly tugging you closer while you kept one hand in his hair and the other around his neck. Kissing Chris would never get old. He walked backwards until his legs hit the edge of the mattress, lowering himself down and pulling you onto his lap. You wrapped your arms around his neck, his hands instantly going to your ass as he pulled you to straddle him closer. A moan broke from your throat, catching you off guard.

“That’s it baby,” Chris whispered, lips attaching themselves to your jaw.

Instantly you were reminded that you were indeed in his mother’s house. The same mother who thought you were just a hook up when she first met. You sighed, loosening your grip from around his neck. Chris continued to kiss across your jaw and down your neck.

“We’re in your mother’s house babe,” you said.

“And?” he muttered into your neck.

“And, she probably wouldn’t appreciate this going on in her guestroom.”

He pulled back a bit, finding your lips and placing a kiss there. “I beg to differ, but I suppose this isn’t how you want to meet my sisters.”

“Nope,” you said, popping the p. You crawled off his lap and a ran a hand through your hair. It was a good thing that you only had on lip balm, because surely had it been lipstick it would have been a mess on your face. You tugged at your sweater, making sure the neck was straightened before turning back to Chris and smiling. “Why don’t I spend the night at that construction zone you’re calling a house tomorrow night?”

“Really?” he asked, eager smile on his face.

“Yes, really.” You’d tell Chris tomorrow about your extended stay. It would just be the two of you tomorrow, so it would be easier to talk to him about your thoughts on possibly moving. You hoped he’d be honest with his feelings on it as well.

The two of you made your way back to the family room, immediately spying Chris’ sisters. Scott told you tonight’s dinner would just be the siblings as his mom wanted to keep it small and casual as they got to know you. Saturday would have the whole Evans’ clan in attendance for a potluck type lunch.

“Nice of you two to finally join us,” Chris greeted Carly and Shanna.

“We’re on time, you’re just always early,” Shanna said.

“Wait until you have kids. You’ll see how long it takes to get out of the house,” Carly spat.

“Anyway. This is my girlfriend Y/N. Y/N, these are my sisters Carly and Shanna.”

Whoa. Girlfriend. I guess he’s saying it first.

You felt your face heat up, but you quickly extended your hand to Carly first who pulled you into a hug and then passed you to Shanna who did the same.

“Great to meet the often talked about Sassy,” Shanna said with a giggle.

“Oh boy. Hopefully only good things,” you replied.

“Maybe. Siblings never rat each other out, so we simply can’t say,” Carly added shrugging her shoulders.

“You know damn well, no one is saying anything bad about you Sassy. It’s Chris that needs to worry,” Scott said. Shanna instantly nodding in agreement.

“Let’s get a drink!” Carly said, putting her arm around your shoulder and dragging you to the kitchen.

With beers in hand, the five of you went back into the family, sandwiching between Chris and Shanna on the couch. A few minutes later Lisa came and joined you. “Dinner in ten minutes kids,” she said, squishing next to Scott on a large oversized chair.

“Sounds good, Ma,” Chris said.

“What are you kids talking about?”

“We were just getting ready to interrogate Y/N,” Carly said, giving you a wink.

“No, we most certainly were not,” Chris said, putting his arm around you and pulling you close.

You chuckled lightly, patting his thigh with your hand. “Babe, it’s fine.” You pulled away and looked at each of the three women. “What would you like to know?”

“Dinner’s almost ready, why don’t we wait until we sit down?” Lisa offered.

With dinner on the table, you readied yourself for an onslaught of questions.

“So, you’re from Florida?” Carly asked.

“Actually, I’m from Minnesota. I moved to Florida for college and just stayed.”

“And you’re a Disney person?” Shanna asked.

“Absolutely,” you smiled. “I worked, well, still work for the Orlando Sentinel covering anything and everything Disney parks. I’m not sure if the guys told you I recently took a different job, but I’ll still be covering some Disney parks’ news.”

“They did. Congratulations Y/N. It sounds like it was a change you were looking to make,” Lisa said.

“It was. I love covering the parks, but I’ve written a lot of current events articles for various magazines and I’d really like to delve into that.”

Chris squeezed your knee pulling your attention to him. He beamed at you, literally beamed. You knew he was happy for you but this told you that he was happy with how this meeting was going.

“Do you have any siblings?” Shanna asked.

“I have one brother and his name is Heath. He’s three years younger than me. And I have a bunch of cousins that are all around our age, so they always felt like siblings growing up.”

“Are you all still close?” Lisa asked.

“My brother and I are, but it gets harder to keep in touch with my cousins as we get older.”

“Have you ever been married?” Shanna inquired.

“Shanna!” Chris hissed.

You looked at Chris and gave him a smile. “It’s fine. No, I’ve never been married nor engaged. I’ve had a couple of long-term relationships, but not in the last few years.”

Shanna smiled, apparently satisfied with your answer.

After dinner, you offered to help Lisa with pouring coffee and dishing up the cake she had made.

“Y/N, I just wanted to apologize for that day I met you in Epcot. I didn’t treat you fairly and I honestly feel awful about it.” She turned away from the cake to face you. “Scott has always spoken so highly of you. I truly am sorry that I wasn’t as welcoming as I should have been.” Lisa stepped closer to you, grabbing both of your hands with hers. “Chris hadn’t mentioned that you were the same friend that Scott had told me about. So, when he said he was meeting up with a friend, I was a little annoyed. I thought that this friend was someone that he just had met, so I was disappointed it was taking time away from the kids.” She chuckled softly. “That sounds awful. It’s not that Christopher does that regularly. He never does that.” She took a breath and started again. “Oh boy, I’m probably getting him into trouble with you.” You chuckled at her words and shook your head. “My point is, I’m sorry and I hope we can be friends because you are obviously a very important woman in both my sons’ lives.”

“No hard feeling at all and I hope we can be friends as well.” You leaned forward and wrapped your arms around here. She quickly followed suit, patting your back gently with one hand.

“Are we getting cake or what?” Chris asked, stepping into the room. “Didn’t know I was breaking up a Hallmark moment.”

“Har-har Christopher. Come grab some of these plates,” Lisa said.

Chris stepped close to you, grabbing a plate while you poured another cup of coffee. “Everything okay?”

“Completely,” you said with a smile.

“Are you really leaving me for my brother?” Scott asked in his best daytime soap opera voice.

“Well, I’ve seen him naked, so...” you trailed off, shrugging your shoulders.

“All you had to do was ask,” Scott offered.

“I’m sure Zach and Chris would love to hear that.” You patted his head, grabbing your carryon bag from the couch, making sure you had everything for the night. “I’ll be back with you tomorrow night for our best friends sleep over party like we planned. No boys allowed except for you.”

“Damn right! I’ll be sure to stock up on raspberry vodka.”

“No! Only wine. I learned my lesson when you got me drunk.” Scott scoffed, but waved you off. Chris was down stairs circling the block since he couldn’t find a spot to park. “Tell Zach when he gets up from his nap that I’ll see him tomorrow.”

“I will. Have fun and use protection!” Scott yelled out. You promptly flicked him off and shut the door.

Chris’ house was beautiful, even if it was being remodeled. The rooms that were currently being redone were the two guestrooms, the office, a guest bathroom, and the deck.

“See, you totally could have stayed here the whole time. Plenty of space for just you and me.”

The two of you were laying on his really comfortable couch. You between his legs and back against his chest. He kissed your neck and you hummed.

“Well, I remember someone telling me his house was practically unlivable. Then Scott offered and who am I to refuse? You’ll just have to have me stay another time.”

“Oh, I will,” he replied, then kissed your neck again.

“Your house is gorgeous. I really love this room and I’m sure this wall of windows out to the deck will look even better when it’s finished.”

“It’s going to be great. Like a second living space. At least that’s what the designer tells me. How are you likin’ Boston?”

You turned to face him slightly, tucking one leg underneath yourself. You licked your lips nervously.

Now or never.

“Actually, I wanted to talk to you about that.”

“Okay, what’s on your mind?”

“Now, don’t get mad,” you started, Chris raising his eyebrows. “That’s not what I mean. Um. Okay, so you know how I mentioned that with this new job, I can spend time here with you or I could spend time with my family and work at the same time?” He nodded his head. “Well, I’m thinking about maybe relocating. I’m not sure what I want to do yet and I don’t need to make a decision right away. My lease isn’t even up until February.”

Chris face lit up, his smile as big as you’ve ever seen it. “What are you saying, Y/N. You movin’ here?”

“Not sure yet, that’s what I’m getting at. I’m staying in Boston another week.”

“You want to stay with me?”

“That’s the thing. I gotta make sure I’m comfortable being here. You’re not always here. Months at a time when you’re filming even. So, I actually rented an apartment for a week to see if I like the area.”

“Sweetheart, you could still stay with me and figure out if this is the place you want to be.”

“I know, but if I did move here, I’d have my own place so I wanted to get the feel of it. I didn’t mention it to you or Scott because I didn’t want you both insisting that I stay with you.” Chris narrowed his eyes at you. “Don’t give me that look. It’s way too early for me to be moving in with you. We both know that.”

“Fine. You’re probably right,” he murmured.

“Maybe I can cook you dinner at my pretend apartment next week,” you offered.

“You better. Don’t think you’re staying a whole ‘nother week and not seeing me almost every day.”

“Babe,” you sighed out. “The whole point of me staying another week is to see if I can get along on my own. If we are hanging out every day, that’s not how life is always going to be.”

“Five days.”

“Two days,” you offered.

“Two days?! Sweetheart…Four days.”

“Three, and that’s my final offer,” you concluded.

“Deal. But that’s you and me time. No Scott.”

“That’s fine by me. But it’s not an all-day deal. I want to try to work.”

“Yes ma’am,” he said, grabbing your face and pulling it to his lips.

“Let’s go to bed,” you said, standing up and pulling him up with your hand. The two of you walked into his room, you slipping into the en suite.

You pulled off your sweater, cami, and jeans, folding them neatly and placing them on the far side of the vanity. You took a deep breath, admiring the see-through black bra and matching panties. You were ready to be intimate with Chris again and you hoped he was feeling the same. Giving yourself one last look, you ran your fingers through your hair and pinched your cheeks. You were feeling confident and you hoped it showed. Taking one more deep breath, you steadied yourself and opened the bathroom door, walking back in the room to Chris who had changed into a t-shirt that he wore with his boxers.

“Sweetheart,” he said with a shaky breath.

“Hi, Chris,” you said, moving closer to him. He sprung to his feet to stand in front of you. Your hands went to his chest, placing both palms on him. “Make love to me.”

It came out more like a statement than a question and you were proud of yourself in that moment. Chris visibly gulped, licking his lips, he nodded. His arms instantly wrapped around you, caging yours to his body.

“Oh sweetheart, I’ve missed you,” he said softly. His lips trailed from yours to your neck, back up to that spot behind your ear that made your knees shake. He walked you to the bed, gently laying you down with him coming to lay beside you. His knee went between your legs opening you up to him. One hand caressed your pussy over your panties as he mouthed your nipple through your bra, causing goosebumps to erupt down your body. “Are you sure?” he asked.

“Yes, god yes. I want you babe,” you moaned as his mouth went to your other breast.

While the first time the two of you were together was fun and full of nervous energy, this time was the two of you truly making love. Chris took his time worshiping your body. It was slow and soft and you knew that it was absolutely right.

Lisa’s home was stuffed to capacity, much of the guests spilling into the backyard. It wasn’t just the Evans clan in attendance today. Everyone brought friends who they considered family. The names of everyone you met started to swirl together. The family was easy enough to get down as you met the kids back in May. Carly’s husband, Shanna’s boyfriend, a few cousins, and uncle were added to the list. Chris had a few buddies there as well as Scott that they introduced you to. Everyone was warm and welcoming and you felt at ease as they all seemed to want to get to know you. These were the important people in Chris’ life, so they were important to you as well.

Chris was relaxed which you loved to see. He had a few beers but wasn’t out of control. When you were around each other, he kept a hand on you. On your back. On your side. Around your shoulders. On your cheek. It was sweet and welcome, especially after the night you spent together.

You decided to stick to lemonade during the day, switching to white wine as the day went on. Getting drunk in front of these people wasn’t something you wanted to do even if Scott was trying to make that happen. He’d walk by with a bottle in hand and you’d quickly cover the top of your glass with your hand. It was slumber party night back at Scott’s, one of you had to be responsible enough to drive you home later.

One person you hadn’t even thought of meeting was Courtney. It was foolish of you to forget about her since Scott had told you she had been a long-time friend of the family, not to mention Chris’ on and off girlfriend for years. You wanted to like her and you wanted her to like you. It was such a weird thought to have. She’s Chris’ ex after all. She had been around for his other girlfriends including his longer relationships.

“Y/N, this is Courtney,” Scott introduced.

She gave you a polite smile and a wave which you returned. “The famous Sassy! I’ve seen you on Scott’s Instagram account,” she said.

Okay. This isn’t so bad.

“That would be me. It’s nice to meet you.”

She was prettier in person than she was in pictures. The kind of girl that didn’t need makeup but wore it anyway and it only enhanced her natural beauty. She was dressed casually in jeans and sweater, yet she looked unbelievably put together.

“You in town long?” she asked.

“Another week, then I’m back to the warmth,” you said with a smile.

“Suppose this is quite the change for you. Plus, the Evans family can be quite overwhelming.”

Scott scoffed at that, pushing her shoulder. “Only some of the Evans’ are overwhelming. I’m wonderful.”

You grabbed him around the waist, kissing his shoulder. “You sure are sweetie,” you said sarcastically, earning a laugh from Courtney.

Scott excused himself, leaving you and Courtney to chat. She was nice and sweet and easy to talk to. You immediately understood why she remained friends with the family when her and Chris broke up the first time. It was still odd in away to be friendly with your boyfriend’s ex, but if everyone else loved her, you needed to give it a shot. Boyfriend. That was another thing. Chris was your boyfriend. You really liked the sound of that.

It was close to seven and Scott was itching to take off. He wanted to order pizza and have a dance party. Zach was staying with Chris for the night so the two of you could have that sleep over. You both had great boyfriends to put up with you. Confiscating Scott’s keys earlier in the day, you went in search of Chris to tell him goodbye.

You found Chris with a few of his friends you had met early in the day along with Courtney standing on the patio outside. Chris was telling a story, animated as ever. His arms flailing about, head tipped back as he laughed at his own joke. You stood back to admire him as he had the group enthralled with whatever tale he was telling. Courtney stepped forward, wrapping an arm around his middle. It seemed innocent at first until she placed a hand on his sweater clad chest, hand trailing lightly. Chris looked down at her hand and then to her face, neither of them noticing you had stepped outside. He lifted her hand from his chest, much to her surprise, and then stepped out of her embrace. “I have a girlfriend,” he said softly, but you still heard it.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know.” Courtney quickly replied.

You wanted to escape without being seen. It definitely felt like a moment you weren’t meant to witness even though you were happy with the outcome. You were mere inches from the patio doors when Scott popped out, calling out your name drawing the attention of the group standing nearby.

“Hey sweetheart,” Chris said, leaving the group and walking up to you, kissing your temple to greet you. You wrapped an arm around his middle and leaned into him. “Are you taking off?”

“M’hmm,” you replied. “Just coming to say goodnight.”

“I’ll walk you out,” he said.

“Hey, Y/N? Can I talk to you for a moment?” Courtney asked. You turned around to see a small frown on her face.

You nodded your head. “Sure.” You squeezed Chris’ hand. “I’ll see you inside,” you said to him.

Courtney followed you further into the backyard, taking a seat on a small bench.

“I’m not sure what you may have seen, but I wanted to apologize. I had my arms around Chris and If I had known he was with someone, I wouldn’t have been as handsy as I just was. That’s not me and I don’t want you to get that impression of me. M’sorry and I hope that you can accept my apology.”

Scott had not introduced you to Courtney as Chris’ girlfriend, so you did believe that she didn’t know and she did seem sincere. You didn’t want things to be weird, especially if you did end up moving here at some point.

“Already forgotten. I’d like for us to be friends, so no hard feelings,” you replied.

“Thank you,” she said, giving you a soft smile.

Both of you stood up, you walking back into the house and Courtney staying outside. Chris intertwined your hand with his, walking both of you out the front door to Scott’s car. He pulled you into a rocking hug, before pulling back, placing both palms on your cheeks and kissing you deeply.

“I’ll see you Monday for our day one of three?” he asked with a grin.

“I’d like that.” You kissed him again before climbing into the driver’s seat of the car. Scott already asleep in the passenger’s seat.

“Oh, Scott,” you said, shaking your head. He was lucky his car had GPS and you had his address.

Chapter 14

Tag list: @mustangshelby04 @bellaireland1981 @carolina-thiell @straightforwardly @torntaltos @denise1605 @mcuclintasha @southerngracela @iam-cj @trynnabemultifandom @chrisevansforever @kelbabyblue @broadwayandnetflix @kyjey @thevelvetseries @i-just-feel-like @daddieslittlefangirl @hista-girl @stankface @im-not-an-armrest-im-short @whymalu @the-doctors-fallen-angel @mariswritingforfun @tessabb7 @chrisevansfanfic @lakamaa12 @thinkxlovexloud @deidrashouseofpain @nea90sweetie @the-murder-strut-murdered-me @greyeyedsmile14 @dangerouslovefanfic @ripvandrinkle @bitterstar88 @andymi3ntus @zestygingergirl @xstudiousslytherinx @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall @cocomel0613 @onceuponathreetwoone @supraveng @michelehansel @fanfictionaffair @genesgoingtohamslam @agirlcanstilldream @what-is-your-plan-today @jessyballet @capstopavenger @wiczer @titty-teetee @tanelle83 @pinknerdpanda @allaboutthebooz @estillion14 @panicfob @patzammit @heartislubbingdubbing @collinsstanharbour @twittytelly @linki-locks11 @mywinterwolf @ab-baybay @rda1989 @impalaimages @jesseswartzwelder @rainbowkisses31 @xostephanie @smoothdogsgirl @mrsambroserollinsacklesmgk @xxloki81xx @thenormreedus @firstangeldragonranch @soitmightgetweird @maeleeme @denisemarieangelina @rvgrsbrns @icanfeelastormbrewing @velvetwonderbucky @kitkat1690 @smilexcaptainx @suppu97

#chris evans #scott evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans reader insert #chris evans imagine #conversations #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans fan fiction #chris evans fan fic

478 notes · View notes

0606-hyuck · 3 years

Text

a letter to my lover | lee jeno

genre: jeno x reader, fluff, mild angst, supernatural!jeno, angel!jeno

warnings: blood and violence, descriptions of injuries

word count: 1.9K

tagging: the lovely @roses-of-the-moon ♡ @mora134340 + @nct-writers

Dear my beloved Y/N,

The first time you said “I love you”, you had already saved my life.

I still remember the day you found me, as clear as the cloudless sky that loomed above us. You were taking a short walk through a hiking trail when we met; the stony path was surrounded by great trees, which you later informed me were pine native to the area. I still remember the look on your face when you found me: beaten, bloodied, and bruised, with my left ankle twisted in between two large roots that protruded from the dirt. You clearly couldn’t believe what you were seeing, if we’re going off of the double take you did - you later told me that you never imagined you would come across a half de-robed young man with feathery wings sticking out of his naked back.

When I realised you had spotted me, a billion thoughts were flying through my mind. Would you help me? Would you call the authorities to report what you’d just witnessed? Would you even believe what your eyes were showing you? From the moment we met, you knew I was not from this world - hell, the wings were a pretty big give away - but only hesitated for a second before you ran off the path to help me, to make sure there were no other walkers travelling the same track. It would be an understatement to claim I was in a wee bit of a predicament. Considering I was an angel who had just been chased from my world into yours, beaten, and left for dead, life wasn’t really going my way at this point. I was the divine being in this situation, but on that day you were the only angel in the forest.

Without batting a single eyelash, you rushed over to examine my wounds. The cuts were deep and painful, but ultimately not life-threatening. You mustered all your strength to pull back the roots that enclasped my broken ankle, and, after you had me leaning against you, you threw your jacket over my shoulders to conceal my wings, arguably the only in-tact part of me at this stage. You led me back down the path, and by some god-given miracle we hobbled to your parked car together without encountering another person on the track. You saved my life that day, no questions asked, and for that, Y/N, I will spend the rest of my life trying to pay you back.

The second time you said “I love you”, I had fallen for you.

The day you found me wounded in the forest, you had taken me back to your apartment where you lived alone. I remember thinking, even in my delirious loss-of-blood state, that your home was so dull and lifeless and there was no way any human could live here and be truly happy.

You spent the next few weeks virtually gaining a nurse’s certificate of practice with the amount of knowledge you were retaining in order to heal me. Taking me to a hospital was out of the question, given the wings, and so you resorted to healing my cuts, bruises, and bones from the comfort of your old single bed. I remember you were worried that you would end up mistreating a festering wound and I would die alone in your apartment while you were at your day job, but you really had nothing to worry about.

After six weeks, my body was completely healed, and the home-made splint you fastened around my leg had straightened the bone right out. Of course, I was left with a barely-noticeable limp, one you would only spot if you already knew I had one, but that was to be expected given how mangled it was when you found me.

The only thing your new-found medical skills were not able to heal was my broken heart. Granted, I didn’t expect you to. Facing the truth that I’d been exiled from the world I had called my home for my whole life by people who believed lies about my past, and having to leave behind friends and family that cared for me was something I was going to have to deal with at some point. It would take years for me to fully accept my new life, although you were there to support me every step of the way.

When I had physically healed, and informed you I had no idea how to get back home, we both realised the only option for us was to become obligatory roommates. I not only had the good luck of running into possibly the only human who unconditionally accepted what I was, but also one who was in dire need of socialisation and company, too.

We spent the next few weeks doing this thing you called ‘online shopping’ together, finding furniture and items to decorate our new, shared space with. After our packages had arrived, we found ourselves with a brighter, cosier place we were soon calling our home. And, for the first time since I’d met you, you seemed truly happy.

The third time you said “I love you”, I was giving up my life for you.

By this stage, three years had passed since you had first saved me. Our meeting in the forest felt like eons ago, and we had only grown closer since then. Our apartment had stayed more or less the same since we first decorated it - the only difference was we got rid of your musty single bed in exchange for a larger, softer queen-sized bed, which we spent many long nights together in. We referred to each other as ‘partners’, and we had shared so many feelings, thoughts, and memories together that I couldn’t ever imagine living in a world without you.

But that was the problem. You were a mere human and I an angel - there would be a time when you would pass and I would find myself alone in a world that was not my own. That’s when I made the decision - I would give up my immortality to live out the rest of my natural life with you. You tried to convince me not to, worried I was giving too much up for our relationship, but my mind was set. And so, my research began.

When I was a young boy in the celestial plane, I heard rumours about ancient beings who had the power to strip angels of their divinity, leaving them as mortal as any typical human, and cast them away into other worlds. If I could find one of these beings, I could ask them to rid me of my divinity too, and send me back to Earth. Well, that was the plan, anyway.

I have to give credit where credit is due, Y/N, once you realised I had made my decision, you did your best to help me find a way back home. The library in your town appeared seconds away from falling down, but contained numerous books about mythical creatures and local legends, and you always fetched the ones I needed when I asked.

I spent months upon months scouring every book and online resource I could find that was even remotely related to angels and the celestial plane. Long nights were consumed by skim reading hundreds of pages of decades old writings, but we eventually found something promising.

Since I was still technically an angel, I retained some of my powers which were vital for me to be able to travel back home. I still remember the last time you held me before I left. You buried your head into my shoulder and left a massive tear stain on my yellow jersey, and you wouldn’t let me go for a solid five minutes. You said you loved me, and I said it back. I had told you I loved you numerous times before this, but this time it was different.

The ritual I was about to perform was dodgy, at best, and even if I did make it to the celestial plane there was no guarantee I would be able to return. When you held me tight, all that was running through my head was the last few years we’d spent together, the happiest years of my whole life. I couldn’t ever imagine living without you, but that was a reality I was facing - for all we knew, this was the last time we would see each other.

The last time you said “I love you” was yesterday.

You were running late, I had cooked dinner and was waiting for you to arrive, so I phoned you to ask when you would be coming home. You said you were stuck in traffic, which was typical for this new, big city we had moved to, and before you ended the call you told me you loved me.

Since I had left to terminate my status as an angel, I had managed to successfully convince the divine beings that I had no use for my immortality, and return home to you. Shifting through the worlds was costly on my mind and body, but when I came home and saw the look of pure relief and tears on your face at my safety, it was all worth it.

Now that I was a regular human and no longer had five-foot long wings sprouting from my back, I could go out in public for the first time in years. The first place you took me was your parents house, where after all these years you could finally introduce me as your boyfriend. Your parents were so lovely, and after we visited them we went to the beach. I’d never seen one before and didn’t know how to swim because we had nothing like this where I was from, but it was one of the best days of my life.

That was almost a year ago now. I didn’t get to tell you I loved you this morning since I had to leave for work so early, but that was common. My new job as a teacher meant we could afford to move out of our one bedroom apartment to the bright lights of the big city, and finally settle down in our new life together. It seems so long ago since you first said “I love you”, and truthfully, it is, but my love for you has only grown with years gone by.

I’m writing this letter for you because I don’t think I can verbally explain how much you mean to me. No part of me doubts the fact I wouldn’t be alive today if it wasn’t for you stumbling across me all those years ago. I’m on my break at work as I’m writing this letter, and I can’t help but feel like my pocket is a little too heavy. I picked out an engagement ring for you last week, and I plan to give it to you right after I give you this letter.

No matter how many times I tell you, my words will not be able to convey just how much I love you - but hopefully this ring will.

Yours, forever and always,

Jeno ♡

#neowritingsnet #cznnet #nct-writers #dreamwritersnet #nct #nct dream #jeno #lee jeno #nct jeno #jeno nct #jeno nct dream #jeno x reader #jeno imagine #jeno scenario #supernatural nct

116 notes · View notes

artistic-writer · 4 years

Text

The Contract :: CS Omegaverse :: Ch 7

Title: The Contract Rating: E Summary: Emma had never wanted much in her life, despite being married to one of the richest men in the world. For ten years she has felt like a prisoner in her own marriage, denied the one thing she wants the most, but her husband cannot help but bargain her want like a cheap business deal. Enter Killian Jones, the Alpha her husband has hired to make sure she gets what she wants. And then some.

AO3 - Ko-Fi (100% of coffee’s bought go towards buying @adognamedkillian toys and treats!)

A/N: Chapter 7!!! It comes with some trigger warnings i’m afraid, because I am just that kind of writer *evil grin* TW: domestic abuse. I don’t know what else to call it without giving anything away, which i do not want to do. As always, if in doubt, message me. This chapter has the answers everyone has been waiting for, and some other good news! Ch 8 is already done!

Fantastic artwork by @kmomof4 so give her some love and beta’d by the lovely @hollyethecurious And as ever, thank you to all the ladies in Discord! Thanks ladies!

This is an Omegaverse fic featuring A/B/O dynamics. Whilst this varies from fandom to fandom, for the purposes of my fic, there will be no mpreg. Just so you know. There will however be knotting, breeding, heats and other delicious things that come along with A/B/O. If you do not know what A/B/O is, feel free to message me :) Many thanks to @hollyethecurious @shardminds @kmomof4 @darkcolinodonorgasm @resident-of-storybrooke and @ineffablecolors for letting me bounce my complicated ideas of you lol

If you wish to stay away from this fic, blacklist the A/B/O tag.

Taglist: I’ll be honest, i have lost my taglist for this fic, so if you want a tag, please message me here on on discord (Salem #5158/ [email protected]) and I’ll add you! I’ve tagged the following people i KNOW want to read this, but i don’t want to accidentally tag you if you do not like ABO.

@hollyethecurious @shardminds @kmomof4 @resident-of-storybrooke @darkcolinodonorgasm @thisonesatellite @xemmaloveskillianx @hookedonapirate @teamhook @winterbaby89 @carpedzem @courtorderedcake @profdanglaisstuff @itsfabianadocarmo @donteattheappleshook @ultraluckycatnd @jennjenn615

——————————————————————————————

A week was going to be far too long. It was only seven days but in the grand scheme of things, Emma worried that it might feel like forever without the Alpha she was now sure she was in love with. Of course, she hadn’t told him that. Like an idiot, once he had declared his feelings, she had pretended she was asleep and let him pull her harder into his embrace where she had spent the rest of the night. Morning had come and he was gone but she didn’t blame him. After all, she was well aware that Graham was having the apartment watched, making sure that neither of them broke the terms of his precious contract.

Maybe this was a blessing. Maybe they had been spending too much time together. As much as Emma wanted her bastard husband to be wrong, maybe he was right. For the next seven days she was to accompany Ruby to a very exclusive spa where they would get some much needed rest and relaxation, or so Graham had told her. In truth, he had been angry at how much time she was spending with Killian, his loyal henchmen having told on them and their extra meetings. She should have known. Graham was far too connected to not find out, and Emma had only agreed to go with Ruby because she was afraid of confirming the reality of his paranoia.

Emma did have feelings for Killian. They were more than she had ever felt before, powerful and robust and she was sure that not even seven days apart would change them. The time would be perfect for her to process her own feelings, and how to let Killian know that she felt the same. Emotions had ever been her strongest point, and to play along with his little game, Emma had told Graham that she would be glad to get away from all the men in her life, which also meant, however, that she had to be careful of what she told Ruby. Best friend or not, she was still a spy for Graham and she had no doubt that Ruby would sing like a songbird given half the opportunity.

All Emma had to do now was tell Killian.

It would crush him to see her gone. Emma knew what it meant for an Alpha to declare their love for another. Most of the time they never did until they were sure they had found that perfect someone, but she had never known a single Alpha to pair with a Beta as their mate. Ever. That was half of the confusion currently swirling around inside Emma’s head. She was a Beta, and a broken one at that, illness rife within her body, and she was damn sure she wasn’t worth the love of any Alpha, let alone one so perfect.

She paced up and down the apartment, stopping briefly to draw the curtains. The metal rings scraped across the metal rail, but the sound was quickly drowned out when a car sped passed outside. Emma pulled one curtain back a little in case it had been Killian, but the bright red tail lights at the end of the street dashed her hopes in a second. With a sigh, she shut the curtain again and resumed her steady pacing around the apartment.

She had never been a worrier before, but suddenly she felt herself apprehensive for Killian’s arrival. Years of mental control at the hands of a so-called husband would do that to anyone, but rationally Emma knew that whatever she had to say, Killian would be okay with. In a way, she kind of agreed with Graham, not because she thought they needed to be apart, but because they had been spending so much time together even she was starting to realise that she only smiled when she heard Killian’s voice. Graham was a lot of things, but he was not blind.

Emma only wanted to tell Killian one thing; that she felt the same way and she would be back with the same feelings in her heart.

Her attachment to Killian had become so much lately that she didn’t even recognize herself anymore. She had become someone else, someone liberated and where she had previously been quick to argue, she was now willing to accept whatever pleasure or punishment was dealt out to her. Killian had awakened that inside of her, and she was not ready to let it go. She knew Graham would never give her a divorce, but over the last few hours she had found herself trying to fabricate ways of getting rid of him for good.

A soft knock on the door woke her from her murderous daydream and she was up and racing towards the door before she had even looked in that direction. She knew it was Killian. She could smell him, even through the door, cedarwood and sea salt with a dash of darkness that only she had been privy to. She grabbed the door handle and pulled hard, the wooden panel jumping from the frame without a single sound. She gasped, because somewhere between drawing the curtains and plotting her husband’s death, it had rained, obvious by the fact that Killian now stood in her doorway dripping wet.

He was out of breath having raced from his car, but had been unable to avoid the downpour. His clothes were soaked, clinging to every definition of muscle that Emma could see, his dark blue t-shirt moving with every heave of his chest. Her eyes moved down, over the outline of his bulge now defined by the dampness of his pants and she felt herself suddenly become short of her own breath. When she looked back up to his face, hair dishevelled and clinging to his forehead, she noticed a drip as it fell from the tip of his nose and his eyes were wide with worry, the blue much brighter than she remembered as he searched her face for an answer.

“Emma,” he whispered, like it was the only word he could say. It held so much meaning, a question he needed to know the answer too, but as he searched her face for what he sought, Emma burst into tears.

Killian was over the threshold in a heartbeat, slamming the door behind him just before clutching her face in his hands and dipping his head down to attract her gaze again. Watery eyes tried to focus on his features but Emma couldn’t speak. All she could do was shake her head to tell him something was wrong, and Emma grabbed his hands, holding them to her face in an attempt to keep his warmth on her skin. Even after standing in the rain he was hot, a true Alpha trait, and Emma felt herself immediately calmed by his touch.

“Shh, my love,” Killian said calmly, stroking his thumbs over her cheeks to wipe away her tears, but his words caused a new wave to burst from her eyelids. “Oh, Emma,” Killian soothed, placing one hand on the back of her head and pulling her to his chest.

Her arms wrapped around him immediately, fingers interlocking behind his back and holding him tightly. Killian let her cry, let her expel all of her wails into the fabric of his t-shirt as he stroked her hair, his own tears burning the rims of his eyes. He pinched them closed in an attempt to halt the sob in his chest at how much she was hurting, and a single tear rolled down his still wet face and fell onto the fabric of Emma’s oversized shirt.

After rubbing her back for a good few minutes, and letting her cry until her energy was almost gone, Killian smoothed his hands over her shoulders and pulled her from his body. Her eyes were red, as was the rims of her nostrils, and she quickly wiped at her nose with the extra long sleeve of the white shirt. “Is this one of mine?” Killian asked her with a small smile and Emma coughed out a watery laugh at his attempt to distract her.

“Maybe,” she shrugged weakly.

“It looks good on you,” he said with a smirk, arching an eyebrow playfully.

“It smells like you,” Emma sobbed, a fresh set of tears causing her vision to blur again.

“Hey, now, don’t start that again,” Killian pleaded, rubbing her arms lovingly. “What’s got you all upset, love?”

Emma’s bottom lip quivered and she was unable to stop it. She opened her mouth to speak but the lump in her throat stopped any of the words from coming out.

“Is it something I’ve done?” Killian asked her urgently, the tips of his ears blushing with pink. Emma shook her head and real panic rose up from within him about their last encounter. “Something I’ve said?”

“It’s…It’s…,” Emma stammered, unable to find the words she needed.

“Is it me?” Killian forced himself to ask, his jaw clenching straight after the words left his mouth in nothing but a whisper. He hated himself for being so selfish but Emma instantly reassured him.

“Never,” she breathed, placing her hands on his face. “You’re everything to me.”

Killian heaved a sigh of relief. Emma’s words were exactly what he needed to hear, even if they were not the ones he wanted to hear. He hastily gave his face a wipe, another stray tear having fallen in joyous comfort.

“Then please, love, tell me.” His hands slipped down to hers, clutching her fingers in his and giving them a little shake.

Emma gave him a small nervous smile and a nod of assurance before giving his arm a gentle tug and leading him to the couch. Killian followed, letting his hand slip from hers just long enough for him to slip off his jacket and hang it over a stool as they passed by the kitchenette. Emma was already settling against the arm of the couch when he got to her and reached out to take her proffered hand.

“I have to go away,” Emma said softly.

“Away?” Killian repeated, his stomach falling away from him as he sat down and made sure there was no gap between them.

“To a spa,” Emma said, hanging her head. “With my best friend who is also Graham’s mistress.”

Killian let out the breath he had been holding and a nervous laugh. “Is that all?”

“For a week.” Emma looked over to him and he was still smiling.

“Love, that’s nothing. I’ll be here when you get back,” he promised, rubbing a hand over her knee.

“Graham says we are getting too close. He’s been watching us.” Emma’s confession had Killian narrowing his eyes and an envious rage boiled inside of him.

“How?” Killian licked his lips and shook his head. He didn’t need to know the answer really, because he had seen the same car parked outside with the same distinctive henchman behind the poorly blacked out windows as she had. “Are you safe?”

“I think so, but I don’t want to go and have Ruby fish around for information I know Graham has told her to obtain. It’s going to be so fake,” Emma pouted. “I don’t have a lot of people in my life I can trust anymore.”

“You have me,” Killian told her. “You’ll always have me.”

Emma was suddenly overcome with a warmth pooling inside her that she never thought could be felt at a time like this. Killian’s concern meant more than she could say, more than she could describe, and all she could do was launch herself across the sofa and into his awaiting arms. Killian fell backwards onto the cushions and Emma fell onto him, her mouth seeking his for a passionate kiss. He let her fall onto him, nestling her against his chest as she scrambled for his touch, clinging to his wet t-shirt and holding on for dear life, forgetting all of her troubles in an instant.

Emma kissed him hard, like he was going to be gone the second she opened her eyes, and Killian let her, his lips parting ever so slightly and tracing the seam of her lips. Emma obliged, her tongue slipping passed her teeth and into his mouth where it duelled with his in impetuous passion. Her hands clawed at the hem of his shirt, desperate to rid him of the fabric as quickly as possible, but her weight pinned it to his body because she was reluctant to let even a slither of light pass between their bodies.

Killian grew hard despite his intention to not become aroused and he could smell that Emma was too. She was coating his senses in a cloak of visceral need, the animal within him roaring to life at the mere scent of her, and before he could rationalise any thought, his fingers were fumbling with the buttons of the shirt she was wearing, desperate to get to the skin beneath. Emma shifted her position until her knees were on either side of his legs and tore her lips from his, pushing herself into a sit and helping him divest herself of the shirt.

“Are you alright, love,?” Killian breathed, his words a whisper.

“I am now,” Emma sighed. She was in such a haste to rid herself of the shirt that she tore the bottom two buttons off before wrenching it off her shoulders. She was naked underneath, expectantly or not Killian wasn’t sure, but he couldn’t help but watch the sway of her breasts as she wobbled atop his groin while her hands went to work on his pants.

“No, Emma, stop,” Killian ground out, hating his rational brain and grabbing her hands, halting her advances. It pained him to his very soul to stop her, and the look in her eyes, one of pure hurt, sliced right through him.

“Don’t you want me?” Emma whimpered.

“Aye, of course I bloody want you,” Killian assured her with a sure nod. He still found it absolutely baffling how someone as beautiful as Emma had such a low self esteem, but as usual, the answers to his many questions led right back to her sorry excuse of a husband. He sat up, a huge flat palm spreading out over the middle of her back to make sure she didn’t topple backward, and gave her a loving smile. “I know you’re scared he is going to stop this,” he began, skimming his other hand down the length of her arm and massaging her fingers. “Only the gods can express how unbelievably frightened I am of the same thing.” Confident she was well balanced now, Killian slid his hand up her back and buried it in her hair, cradling her head and holding her face to his. Their noses were pressed together side by side and he felt his breath hitch before he pressed his lips to hers for a quick, chaste kiss. “I meant it when I said I loved you, Emma, and I don’t think I know how to stop.”

Emma pulled her head back and Killian’s hand moved to comb her golden tresses through his fingers, eager as ever to reassure her that whatever worry she was feeling would be over with soon. She blinked, swallowing hard. Emma had never told anyone she had loved them, not even Graham. Sure she had told him, but it had always been after he had said it first, as fleeting as those times were, and she wasn’t exactly sure what it meant to love somebody as openly as Killian clearly loved her.

“I can’t-,” she began shyly, but Killian cut her off.

“You don’t have to say it,” Killian added softly, recognizing the turmoil in her features and giving her a boyish smile that melted her heart. He reached behind her for his shirt she had discarded and pulled it up over her back to cover her once more. “I just want you to know that you are loved, Emma, and despite what you might think, you are not worthless.”

Emma’s lips curved into an unsure smile, little ticks of the corners that were accompanied by a rosy blush across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose that told Killian she was not used to such compliments, something he thought of a as grievous crime against the beauty of both her body and soul. She deserved more than she had ever received and if Killian could offer her just a small piece of his heart, he would wait forever for her to fill the void it had left with the gift of a piece of her own.

“Not to me,” Killian added, reiterating his feelings with a smile. “And I do love you.” He stroked the back of his knuckles over the apple of her cheek and his heart warmed with how deep red her cheeks grew. “But we shouldn’t do this, not here, not if the place is being watched.”

Emma nodded in agreement. “You’re right,” she pouted.

“I’m always right, love,” Killian winked. “And when you return I promise to show you just much I want you.” There was a darkness to the tone of his voice that had a shiver running down Emma’s spine but as quickly as it had appeared, it disappeared in his next words. “And luckily for you, I’m soft.”

“Soft?” Emma asked, confused.

“Soft,” he repeated with a nod and a grin. When Emma’s brow furrowed he chuckled and took pity on her, sliding her from his lap and wrapping one big strong arm around her. “It means I like cuddling too, even without sex.”

Emma snuggled into his side, stretching an arm across his still soggy midriff and hugging him tighter with a content purr. “Me too,” she said softly, a smile breaking out across her face as wide as a mile when Killian turned his head and kissed her on her forehead. “I mean, the sex is great, but,” she teased and Killian’s chest rumbled with laughter.

“But?” Killian prompted her to continue with a little nudge.

“But this is nice too.” Emma had never really had much physical affection like Killian had given her, little touches here and there and now a full blown snuggle on the couch as if they were a real couple. It made her feel special, more than she ever had done, and somehow she was okay with tonight being a different kind of intimate.

–

Angry didn’t even begin to cover what Emma was feeling right now. Thank the Lord for small favours and her chauffeur being on call, because when she had insisted on her driver staying at the resort too, and Graham had obliged, more than likely because the tall, skinny man with small round glasses and a hat Emma was pretty sure was glued to his fake hair piece underneath was actually one of Graham’s many little birds whose favourite song was the Killian and Emma show, she’d had no idea that after just two lunches with Ruby, she would need him to drive her home.

Even thinking about that invasion of marital privacy had her blood bubbling with fury, let alone what she had been stewing on during the drive home after less than half the week at the spa. Was nothing sacred to the man? Emma had been trying so, so hard to fight her growing feelings for Killian, despite everything thrown at her, if not for Graham than for the sake of her reputation as a lady of elite society, a reputation that had helped her fashion out a little niche existence of her own. It wasn’t about being rich, or being able to rub shoulders with these people, but instead about her identity as an individual without Graham, and she still had friends in high places, and many endeavours that would not look favourably at an affair, but did Graham care?

Fuck no.

Clearly not, because if the truth bomb Ruby had just dropped in the lap was anything to go by, Graham didn’t give a flying fuck about her or the meager life she had tried to build for herself in his shadow. Ruby was pregnant and her ever doting husband was the father, apparently something he was thrilled about. However, perhaps the most telling indication of who he was as a person, was when, after telling Ruby how delighted he was for an heir, he told her that Emma would raise the baby with him, as if they had sired the next CEO of the Humbert empire together, totally disregarding the feelings of a mother who would have her tot ripped from her bosom quicker than he could wish he was an Alpha.

The only reason Ruby had told Emma was because she was leaving town to get an abortion and regardless of what had happened between Graham and herself, she still thought of Emma as her best friend, and the whole thing with Graham had been fun and games until she had missed a period. She would tell Graham the baby was dead and knew he wouldn’t waste resources following her to check. Emma understood completely. Ruby was one of her most valued real friends, someone who had been there for her through so much already, and she couldn’t imagine taking the woman’s child and trying to raise it as her own. She just couldn’t. And if Graham knew either of them, he would have realised how insane the idea even was in the first place.

The ride home hadn’t abated Emma’s vehemence towards her husband one bit. It wasn’t about her, and it wasn’t about Ruby, or the life inside of her, but it was about how he had, for so long, managed to breeze through life treating people like property. Emma was sick of it. She was sick of how he had treated every single person and events around him with such frivolity, like his life was a game and his actions had no real consequence. Maybe she was taking it a bit far, storming out of a spa and wellness resort in the middle of the afternoon with nothing but the clothes on her back, but Emma just had to give him a piece of her mind whilst her temper charged storm of emotions swirling inside of her still fuelled her every being. If not for any other reason than he deserved it.

The time it had taken Jeeves - Emma knew that wasn’t his name, but Graham had never let her know his real one for fear they had, ironically, begun an affair - to get her home, Emma’s rage hadn’t fizzled out one iota. She launched herself from the car quicker than it took Jeeves to put it into park, and raced across the expansive gravel driveway in the fading light of afternoon. The sun was heading down for the evening but Emma was wide awake knowing that Graham would be home at this time too, and with any luck, she would be interrupting something he deemed of the utmost importance.

As usual, when the door was opened for her, the lobby of their mansion was empty, cold and uninviting despite the rays of sunshines currently warming their mark into the stone floor. Absentmindedly Emma wondered if they had owned a dog, would it be sunning itself in the beams the way dogs often did, desperate to catch the last warmth of the day. Equally as unnecessary in her thought process, Emma wistfully wished for the carefree life of a pet, free to do whatever she wanted all day without being constantly reminded of how she was nothing but a dissatisfaction wearing an expensive wedding ring.

Boy, was Graham in for some kind of shit storm.

Eventually she found him in his study, after a few pointed directions from staff who thought better than to get in her way, and didn’t even try to hide her ire as she strode across the expansive Persian rug between them and, just as he turned to look at her in shock of her actually being there, slapped him across the face with an audible smack. Hard. Graham’s previously relaxed stance stiffened up in an instant, his eyes fluttering closed as he rearranged his jaw from one side to the other before clenching it closed. Emma was seething, positively vibrating with wrath, the tips of her fingers tingling from the impact that had left a rather telling mark across Graham’s cheek.

“Hello wife,” Graham spat, peeling his eyes open to give her a cold, dead stare. “Back so soon?”

“Don’t ‘wife’ me, you bastard,” Emma yelled, jabbing Graham in the shoulder with the heel of her hand.

“I take it Ruby opened her fat mouth,” Graham mumbled to himself, sighing dramatically. “I guess you know the rest, judging by the pain in my shoulder,” Graham sneered.

“Why the fuck would you think I would raise someone else’s child with you?” Emma shouted, eyes wide with her words.

“It’s not someone else child, Emma, it’s mine,” Graham growled, his voice low and his words ground out through his clenched teeth.

“Oh, that makes it all better!” Emma laughed.

“What are you so angry about?” Graham shrugged. “It’s not like you aren’t getting what you want out of this arrangement.”

He meant Killian and Emma knew it, swallowing the spiteful words that threatened to fall out of mouth back down where they could fester in her stomach some more. “And what about Ruby, huh? You think she is just going to give up her child?”

Graham turned and Emma was taken back by his calm demeanour. “The child is a Humbert. It will live with me and you are my wife, and as such you will be expected to raise it accordingly.”

“Accordingly?” Emma shook her head. “What the fuck, Graham? You really have no idea how your actions affect everyone around you, do you?”

They stared at each other, Emma shaking with exasperation and Graham as cool as ice, still and motionless. Emma watched the bob of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, slowly and deliberately like he even had control over his body’s most basic instincts.

“The child will be raised a Humbert,” Graham repeated slowly, pushing his hands into his pockets and taking a few menacing steps towards her. Emma didn’t back down, squaring her shoulders and met his gaze with the same intensity he was giving her. “You will raise it as a Humbert.”

“I’m not some fucking wet nurse for your bastard, Graham!” Emma sniggered. “I will not raise someone else’s kid, and I will not let you manipulate this situation in your favour like you always do. This is a life, a human being, Graham, surely you realise that!” Emma waved her hands, trying to find any empathy behind the blue eyes staring back at her, but all she saw was a wall of stone.

“You are my wife,” Graham ground out. “You will obey me.”

Emma laughed, loud and heartily, her entire body moving with the deep, belly rumbling hilarity of Graham’s statement. “I won’t, and there is nothing you can do about it. What are you going to do? Divorce me?” Graham’s furrowed brow meant she had struck a nerve.

“Pity,” he huffed, looking down at his feet. He knew there was no way Emma wouldn’t do as he wanted. She might want to be with the Alpha more than him, but he was pretty confident that if it came down to it, she wouldn’t leave a defenceless babe to fend for itself. Graham would simply take the baby form Ruby and leave it with Emma, sure nature would take its course and she would be unable to not help, and over time they would become one big semi agreeable family. He smirked to himself, and Emma scoffed a laugh as if she could read his mind.

“I’m so sorry I’m such a fucking disappointment!” Emma spat at him and with her words, Graham snapped, his biceps bulging under his sleeve caps as he clenched his fists in his pockets.

“Disappointment?” He snapped. “What do you know about disappointment, huh? Maybe if you’d been the wife I was promised-,”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Emma cried, moving towards him and grabbing his arm as he attempted to turn away.

“Nothing, forget I said anything.” Graham shook her off and made for his desk, the decanter of whiskey already halfway to the bottom.

“No, no, go on,” Emma insisted sarcastically. She followed after him, giving him a little shove that spilled the whiskey right out of the glass in his hand. “I’d love to hear about how yet another one of your problems in life is caused by me.”

“Not this one you wouldn’t,” Graham cautioned. He lifted the cut glass tumbler to his lips and took a sip of the burning liquid, exciting all of his taste buds at once.

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” Emma screeched, running her hands through her hair. “Ten years of marriage and you won’t even be honest with me?”

“You wouldn’t want honesty, Emma, trust me.” Graham finished the whiskey, pouring the last of the honey coloured drink into his mouth and swallowing the lot in one gulp. He pinched his eyes closed until the burn at the back of his sinuses passed but when he opened them, Emma was still as disgruntled as before.

“Trust you?” she said spitefully. “Graham Humbert, the almighty, the all powerful, the good for nothing burnt out Beta who wishes he was an Alpha so badly? Where has that ever got me before?”

Graham spun around and advanced on her, making Emma jump back for a second. His hands were on her face, clamping her jaw in his grip and silencing her long enough to stare into her eyes and cause real fear to spark behind the green hues. “I can tell you where it will get you if you don’t stop with this Ruby bullshit.”

“Well it won’t be a divorce, you’ve made that abundantly clear.” Her words were compressed through her lips but they made her point. Humbert men didn’t get divorced, or so Graham had pounded into her brain from the second she had married him.

He pushed her head aside and released her jaw and Emma immediately rubbed at the soreness there. He walked by her as if she wasn’t even there, like she was nothing, like he hadn’t put his hands on her and hurt her. “Oh there are worse things to do to you, Emma. Don’t push me.”

“Don’t push you? Oh, honey, I haven’t even begun!” Emma ground her teeth, stalking after him with heavy footsteps that echoed off the vast ceiling above them. “You’re a bully, Graham, plain and simple,” she shouted. “You use other people to get what you want and you always will, and I don’t know if this is some kind of bullshit Alpha complex run amok, but I’m sick of it!” Emma caught up with him and dipped sideways, reappearing in front of him and halting his escape attempt. “I’m sick of the lies, the cheating, the galas and fake smiles, pandering to all your important friends, and most of all, I’m sick of you!” Emma took a breath, balling her fists at her side. “You’ll never be an Alpha as long as you live so-”

Her words were cut short by an overwhelming thud and the instant Emma’s eyes filled with the stinging sensation of tears, she knew he had hit her. The moment was in slow motion, like an out of body experience, and Emma felt the point of Graham’s knuckles hit her under the eye in a back hand punch. It shook her, physically and emotionally, and her body flushed with white hot prickles of adrenaline that blinded her so much she didn’t see the next blow coming.

“Shut up!” Graham shouted, his words hidden behind the slap sound. “Shut your dirty whore mouth!” Graham roared, spittle dripping from his lower lip in his rage. He raised his hand again but paused when Emma cowered away. “You want some truth? Here, how about this for a truth. The only reason we took you in was because you were an Omega and I was supposed to be Alpha, that’s the only reason I married you.”

“What do you mean I’m Omega?” Emma snapped, the pain in her cheek radiating through her entire jaw as she gently pawed at the underside of her eye socket where the skin felt like it had split open.

“Come on, Emma, don’t be dense,” Graham sneered. “Have you ever wondered why you couldn’t remember seeing a doctor for your ‘illness’? Ever wondered why my family were so insistent on your medication? It’s a supressant, you dumb bitch!”

Emma’s entire life flashed before her eyes. It all made sense. Everything was much clearer. She was Omega, a completely different gender class that she had always believed, and the entire Humbert family knew about it, but had suppressed her nature with drugs. For a second Emma imagined what her life might have been if she had never had the misfortune of crossing paths with the Humbert family. Would she have married an Alpha? Would she have pups of her own? Her mind swirled with scenario after scenario, all of which had been ripped from her grasp by Graham and his family.

“All this time,” Emma whimpered angrily, shaking her head. “You knew and let me think I was sick.” Her rage boiled up inside of her and she felt her fists ball at her sides again, her feet carrying her closer to the man in front of her.

“And you would have never have found out if it wasn’t for that fucking Alpha,” Graham rasped, his nose wrinkling at the thought of Killian being more than he had ever developed into.

His misplaced rage was evident and Emma was quick to interrupt his fury with a balled fist pounding on his shoulder. “Leave him out of this. He doesn’t know anything.”

“Aww, did I hit a sore spot there, darling?” Graham leered, cocking his head to one side in mock sympathy. “I’m not a fool Emma. I know you two have been fucking without my prior consent!”

“Your prior consent?” Emma yelled. “Listen to you, trying to control my life, what I do and who I see.” She laughed, scrubbing her hands over her face with a sigh. “Well, newsflash Humbert, I’m not your property.”

“Newsflash, Emma, I’ll be suing the fuck out of Killian Jones to recover all of the money he took whilst still fucking my wife, and then, when he has nothing else left, I’ll take his brother’s bar. I know people who could get that place shut down like that!” To emphasize the power he had to do as he had threatened, Graham clicked his fingers right in her face, and Emma blinked in an attempt to fight her flight response.

“Why are you like this?” Emma asked, her voice turning softer, more sympathetic. She had been fond of Graham once, and they were friends for so long before they got married, so the man in front of her right now, the man who had dared to lay hands on her, was not the man she had once known. “What happened to that sweet, charming guy I married, huh? Look what you’ve become, Graham. Spoiled, hateful and with so much anger-,”

Another blow took Emma by surprise and she had no time to brace herself. Graham’s clenched fist hit her again in the same place and Emma was sure that that blow had split the skin under her eye now. She tumbled backwards, falling flat onto her butt and only narrowly avoiding hitting her head on the marble fireplace surrounding behind her.

“Because of you!” Graham bellowed, looming over her, the vein in his forehead bulging.

“It’s not my fault you didn’t become an Alpha!” Emma slapped the floor beside her to highlight her point. “That’s not on me!” Emma snapped.

“They said an Omega presence would draw it out of me, make me into the most powerful Alpha my family had ever seen, but no!” Graham yelled, shaking with anger. “We paid good money for you!” He accused, pointing at her. “You ruined me, you poor, good for nothing ungrateful Omega whore!” Graham raised his hand again, intent on making sure Emma felt this one, but she scrambled backwards across the floor, pushing herself to her feet when her back hit the solid door frame. “Now do me a favour and get the fuck out!”

When Emma pulled open the door, the cold air from the hall hit the welt under her eye and halted the throbbing pain when she blinked. Graham was hot on her heels, shoes pounding the stone floor and sending echoes into the hall. One of the staff was barged out of the way by Emma and stumbled into Graham’s path, slowing him temporarily and Emma took the opportunity to race for the front door. She yanked it open and couldn’t stop the tears from falling any longer. One of her shoes came loose and she kicked the other one off, ignoring the searing pain shooting up her legs as she tore across the gravel driveway.

“And don’t come back!” Graham yelled after her, the door knocker clattering as he slammed the door and cast her out into the night.

#cs fic #the contract #A/B/O #a/b/o dynamics #cs fanfic #alpha!killian #emma swan #tw: domestic abuse

51 notes · View notes