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guigz1-coldwar · 4 years ago

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Feeling better (Fem!BellxGreta Keller)

Just after returning at the E9 Safehouse after capturing Volkov, Greta Keller is somehow worried about Bell's state and ask Adler if it's possible to take her out for a night !

Warning : Little Smut !

----------------------- A long night was finished for Adler's team !

They succeeded in their mission in East-Berlin to get their hands on Anton Volkov, a Russian mobster working for Perseus. The guy was maybe an dick but capturing him was going to give the MI6 a good & comfortable undercover positions in the other side of the Iron Curtain & and on Perseus's various operations. Adler wanted him dead but Bell decided otherwise as she was with the MI6 and with Park on the idea to capture him. Of course, they also succeed on getting their hands on the infos that Franz Kraus was going to give him but now, it was time to get out of East-Berlin to return to the E9 safehouse in the other side of the city.

During that mission, the team were helped by Greta Keller, Hudson's contact inside the BND, that helped them to have some intels about Kraus. Her help was just limited to giving the team these intels and that was it but nothing could have predict that she was going to be captured by Kraus himself as she has tried to follow him back to this apartment and found herself tied up in his secret dark room hidden in his office. She was pleading for her life when Bell somehow entered the apartment to find his briefcase. Bell was just supposed to plant a tracker in it and get away but noices coming from a cupboard brought her attention and finally found Keller but it was too late to free her as Bell was knocked out by behind by Kraus. Now, they were in the same situation !

Founding them tied up in Volkov's warehouse was for them, the end of it but like guardians angels, the team arrived in time to save them from their deaths. They were both relieved to be saved and now they could finally breathe without being tied up with a rope. The mission was done and everyone were going to come back to the safehouse. But there were something that were preoccupying Keller for a reason...something about Bell. Even if Bell was smiling, Keller saw that there were something wrong about her and that she wasn't feeling good at all. Keller knew of the true identiy of Bell like everyone else but she saw that Bell was not feeling comfortable around the team.....something was bothering her. It all begins when she met Bell back in that bar, the discussion was nice but Bell's voice during it put questions inside Keller's mind.

What's wrong with her ?

She was asking to herself that question during the way back to the E9 Safehouse as she was obliged to follow the team because her position in East-Berlin was compromised by a double agent in the BND. During the way inside the van drived by Lawrence Sims, Keller was looking sometimes Bell to see how she was feeling. Bell was either avoiding contact with the others or trying to be silent when she was asked about something like if her state didn't want her to talk and that's the thing Keller was concerned. Park tried sometimes to talk with Bell but Bell was very evasive in her voice. The others tried to put her in the discussion they were having but each time, she was withdrawing herself from it. It was strange, very strange !

After dropping Volkov to the MI6 as a 'little gift', the team was finally back at the safehouse, it was time for everyone to get some rest....a well-deserved rest but not for everyone for the moment. As Lazar and Sims decided to leave the others to be the firsts to have some sleeps, Adler stayed at his desk to make some writing, especially to make reports of their mission they just had. Park was accompanying Bell to the medical room to treat the wounds she received during the fight in the warehouse but also those she had got by Volkov. Keller was.....well.....this place wasn't somewhere she wanted to stay any longer but as her position in East-Berlin was compromised, she had no choice but to stay here until her superiors call her to relocate her in a new mission.

She was still in the same place as everyone went on their own ways, she still has her question in mind about Bell but not having her answer was....stressing her out, she couldn't explain how, the only thing now was to ask. As Bell was occupied with Park, Keller's only way to have something concrete was to see Adler himself. She decide after thinking for a few minutes, to see him. She moved at his desk when he had just finished to write his report when he saw her walking to him

"Miss Keller." He said as he put his head up

"Sir." She stopped just near the desk, not wanting to be too close to this man

"Please, call me Adler." He put his hand on a cigarette pack where he go out a cigarette before looking back to her "Smoke ?"

"Sorry, I have my own, Adler." She replied, gesturing her refusal "And I only smoke german ones."

"You want something ?" He light up his cigarette

"Well, I wanted to know about my status because I've been compromised back in East-Berlin and....I don't know where to go right now." She scratched the back of her head with her left hand as she rolled her eyes. That was one of the things she wanted to know but not the most important. "I suppose I had to wait here ?" She added "Right ?"

"Right now, it's too late to call your bosses." He raised his eyebrow with a little smile "So yeah, you will have to stay here for the moment."

"Am I supposed to sleep on the ground ?" She joked

"Haha, funny" He laughed "We got free beds in the back, so feel yourself at home."

And then, it was the silence between the two,only the sound of the rain was heard outside in the whole room, they both looked away from each other avoiding after Adler's little reply. Then, after two minutes of complete silence, Greta decided to ask....what she wanted to know. Let's hope she will have her answer. It's all she wanted to know.

"So, Adler" She started "About Bell...." She didn't have time to finish that Adler at hearing this name, turned around to look at her

"What do you want to know about Bell ?" He asked, concerned and slightly raising his eyebrow again, this time without a smile

"I know the truth about her but there's something that is preoccupying me right now." She looked at the door of the medical room, hoping that Bell will not come out by surprise

"You....you worried about her ?" He smirked

"Why ? I shouldn't be worried ?" She looked back at him with naworred eyes

"We all know who is she, so-" He cut himself out before looking Greta in the eyes "Anyway, why are you worried about her ?"

"I think that she's not feeling well. During my discussion back in that bar 2 hours ago, she wasn't at 100% of her moral like if something was disturbing her." Her words was some sort of making Adler realize that what she was saying was right.

"Yeah, you're right." He put his cigarette on the desk "Bell was dizzy before we left here to get to the U-Bahn."

"Is this...linked to the fact she was drugged ?" Greta knew that Bell was brainwashed, she knew that Bell was needed to be drugged to be sure that she stay well but she wasn't approving that sort of things on her. But if Bell still feel weird, it is because of the meds the others gave her ?

"I don't know." He said honestely "I tried to ask what she had and that we had a job to do but she told me....to go fuck myself ! Hopefully, Park was here to get her back on tracks." He added, using a sarcastic tone at the end

"Maybe something according to her personal life ?"

"I don't know, miss Keller."

Keller wasn't sure to ask the thing she wanted to tell right now but it was too late and fuck it, it's better to tell it than keep it for herself. She breathe a little and then, she was ready !

"Can I take her out for....a drink ?"

Hearing this make Adler cough all the smoke of his cigarette out of his mouth. He patted himself on the chest to take back his breath and when it was done, he looked Greta back with incomprehesion on his face. He never though that she will ask something like that.

"What ?" He simply said

"You heard me good enough, Adler" She crossed her arms, she know that he heard her well "I want, if it's possible, to take Bell for a little drink."

"You're asking me to let my asset with you for a night ?"

"Your asset, like you said, is a human being" She put her hands on his desk at listening at this "If you want her to be fully operational, give me the night to make her feeling good."

"And where do you want to go with her ?"

"I know a place, that will be just me & her."

"Well, if you want that...." He stopped himself at the sound of a door opening started to be heard "Ask her by yourself."

Greta looked behind her : it was the medical room door that was opening. Bell was the first one to get out of the room, she has some dressings on her face, covering the multiple cuts she received. She was smiling but Greta could see that this smile was a fake one as her face been all white betrayed her true state. Greta was the only one to see it. Park was following Bell and then closed the door behind her. Greta turned her back to see Adler and to faint a discussion but she realize that he left his desk without having her to notice it. She was now alone.

"See ? Told you that I'm the girl to heal you !" Park exclaimed to Bell

"Thanks, Park." Bell replied, looking at her "Appreciated it."

"Hey, Greta, still here ?" Park said, having spotted Greta near Adler's office

"Yeah, need to stay here until tomorrow." Greta responded

"Ok." Park looked back at Bell "We're going to sleep now, we all tired."

"I.....I"m not tired, Park." Bell said "I maybe going to check things on my desk."

"Bell, what did I told you ?" Park rolled her eyes, in a lovely voice "You need to rest, it's been two days you didn't sleep."

"I'm okay." Bell muttered "No need to worry." Park was looking at her worried but anyway, since Bell doesn't want to sleep, she couldn't argue more with her. It was better for Park to let her alone

"Well." Greta was surprised when Park landed a little kiss on Bell's cheek that wasn't wounded and then walked away to the dorm. "Good night, Bell....and you too, Greta." Bell was also surprised by her gesture but that didn't change her state and she wasn't feeling better.

Now, Greta was alone with Bell....just with Bell. The two didn't move from their positions and no one talked. After a few moments, Bell decided to move to her desk while Greta stayed near Adler's desk, leaned against it, arms crossed. Her gaze fall on Bell when she arrived at her desk and start to write on some papers. Greta was seeing someone that was too much focused on work....maybe that was the thing that was disturbing her ? But as Greta was looking at her, Bell was kinda feeling weird to be observed by an woman she didn't really know. Finally, after 5 minutes, Bell called her out.

"You....you want something ?" Bell asked, confused in her voice as she was still working and not looking away

"I....uh....no...I mean, yes." Greta couldn't find her words, troubled to find out that Bell knew she was watched "It's about you." Bell look at her slowly

"About me ?" She said as she raised an eyebrow

"Yes, about you, Bell." She walked a little, away from Adler's desk "I'm worried about you."

"Why ?" Bell told her

"I saw through you.....you're not feeling well....more bad than good."

"How did you see that ?"

"You tried to hide it multiples times but I could see it : your face...your eyes were betraying you. Our discussion in that bar showed it to me....and Adler told me."

"What did he told you ?" Bell got up from her chair and faced Keller, she clenches her fists and jaw putting some scares to Greta who step backwards but too late as Bell grabbed Greta by her coat collar and put her against the wall "Don't tell me that he said it to you."

"He said...." She tried to find her words but having someone who grabbed her and looking threatening wasn't helping at all "He said that you told him to go fuck himself" She joked, hoping to calm the situation down "He saw you were not well but you pushed him away."

"So he didn't tell you everything." Bell finally released Greta, relieving her

"Everything ?" Greta asked "What do you mean ?"

"You don't want to know." Bell turned her back around but she didn't walk away. Greta hesitated but she put her hand on Bell's shoulder.

"Bell, I'm asking because I want to help you." Bell, feeling Greta's hand on her shoulder removed it delicately without been brutal to her

"It's not something I want to talk here." Bell moved to get to Adler's desk, she grabbed a key from his desk and then turned back to Greta "Let's go somewhere else, we'll talk about it."

"You changed your mind ?" Greta was very surprised that Bell agreed to talk

"Just follow me, okay ?"

And then, without hesitating, Greta started to follow Bell outside where the rain was still falling down but having see her grabbing keys meaned that Bell wanted to go somewhere else, away from that place. Bell walked out to the same van they used to get out of East-Berlin where she ordered Greta to get in. If Greta wanted responses, she will have them. But Greta was still suspicious about what Bell wanted to do with her. She was the one who planned to take her out for a drink and now, Bell was the one to do it. She, of course, tried to know where Bell wanted to go but the only response that came in was 'somewhere quiet'.

After starting the van, Bell drove away from the safehouse with Greta at her side. What she has in mind was too precious to be told in the safehouse and she wanted to go somewhere else to clean up her mind. The drive didn't last long in fact. Bell stopped the van in a forest, still in West-Berlin, they were near the Havel river in a secluded place, away from the eyes of everyone else. Bell even stopped the van backward against the river to make sure to have a beautiful view on it and by luck, the rain stopped dropping in the sector. After that, Bell walked away from the driver seat and got behind when she opened the backdoors and then, sit on the edge of the van.

Greta was a little worried that Bell brought her to that place but anyway, she will have her answers there. She joined Bell by sitting next to her.

"So....what are we doing here ?" Greta asked

"You said you wanted to know why I'm feeling weird." Bell rolled her eyes, it was obvious...very obvious that she wanted to say it "You'll know."

"It's okay, I'm...ready to hear it." Greta said. Bell looked at her for a few instants and then back at looking at the horizon, she took a deep breath before starting.

"All these years inside the MI6, we've been told that....love is the worst thing to do because that got you attached to things." She started "I never fall in love because of that advice. I was never loved in my life."

"I'm sorry to hear that, that's very hard for you." Greta put her hand on Bell's shoulder again but this time, Bell didn't remove it.

"I felt so stupid to have listened to this advice but I'm not feeling well since I.....uhm.....fell in love." Bell crossed her arms

"You don't need to feel weird, Bell." Greta said with a smile, trying to reconfort her "Love is a normal thing to have."

"I don't know if I should consider it as a compliment but thanks."

"And.....sorry to be indiscreet but....who's the lucky guy ?"

"It's Park !"

Wow....Greta was quite surprised to hear that.....Bell was not loving a guy, it was about a women all along and it was about Park. Bell was feeling weak and dizzy because of the feelings she catch for the British spy.

"Wait, you're talking about Helen Park, right ?" Greta removed her hand, her eyes went wide "THE Helen A. Park ?"

"Of course, who do you think I was talking about ?

"But why are you not feeling okay ?"

"Because I don't know if she's feeling the same right like me." Bell started to have some tears from her eyes. Greta just saw the hidden side of Bell : a woman troubled by her choices and the opinions of the others. "I'm different."

"Bell, don't say that."

"I'm a woman loving another woman and people around me said that that's not how it works." Her voice was cracking just by saying that "I'm a lesbian, that's why I'm not okay."

'I'm sorry."

"Adler always put out jokes about me and how I'm feeling. It's....starting to be too much for me. It all started back in Vietnam....and it all begin again when he came back."

"So, that's why you told him to go fuck himself ?" Greta tried to make her laugh a little and that worked

"Yeah, I had enough of him." Bell sighed, she cleaned up her mind but she didn't want to leave that place "Why I'm so different, Keller ?"

"Bell, you don't need to give a fuck about what the others say about that." Greta exclaimed "The only thing that count is that how you see things." She wrapped her hands around Bell's ones "That's how I feeling right now."

"What do you mean ?" Bell asked, confused of Greta's moves

"I'm like you, Bell. It's hard to tell the others how you're really feel about them....I also love women." She smile "I also faced the same things.....just like you."

"But, I don't know how I can say that and what can I do."

"Meaning ?"

"I was never loved, I never kissed a girl.....I never had sex." Bell sighed again in desperation "I'm not made for love."

"Bell." Greta moved her hands to put them on Bell's shoulders "Look at me." Bell complied and they both looked at each other. They were both looking troubled but then, without hesitation, Greta leaned forward and put her lips on top of Bell's ones. She didn't know she was going to do it but seeing Bell like that, she knew she had to do it anyway. Bell was very surprised at this. She didn't close her eyes or even moved her lips away. Her heart was pounding faster at this moment : it was her first kiss in her entire life....and the one who was kissing wasn't the one she loved. At this realization, Bell withdrawed from the kiss.

"What....what did you do ?" She asked, trembling

"I kissed you, Bell."

"But why ? You know that...I love Park."

"I want you to feel better, Bell." Greta looked away, ashamed "I'm sorry if that did disturbed you." She started to move away from Bell "We should get back to the others."

"No, wait" Bell take Greta's arm with her hands stopping her "I want to feel better."

"What do you mean ?"

"You know it well.....please."

"Bell, I don't know if it's a good idea to be sure."

"Just....please, I want to know how that happens." Greta wasn't so sure to do that but finally, she resigned herself and let Bell make her sit back again next to her. Bell wanted to know it but she didn't have the strengh to do it by herself "Please....kiss me again."

Greta could only give a little smile before she moved again and their lips met again. This time, Bell indeed moved to kiss her too. This wasn't a simple kiss on the lips now, their tongues were now intertwined each other. Bell put her hands around Greta's waist as Greta put her hands on Bell's face. She wanted to give her the best kiss to make sure she remember a good memory of it and to make sure for her to know that they were both alike. The kiss were so intense that the two fall back inside the van, Greta finding herself on top of Bell. The two stopped the kiss to take a breath and the two were happy....mostly Bell.

Greta removed her jacket on the side and closed the back doors of the van, Bell was looking at her with lovely eyes, she was discovering more about the German spy and the fact that this woman, in front of her, who became her first experience in kissing, was making her proud but Bell didn't want to stop now, there were so much to know about. As Greta was going to go for another kiss, Bell stopped her.

"Greta, I....I....I want to do this." Bell said, her voice sounding exhausted

"You want to have sex ?" Greta asked

"Yes, show me." Bell took Greta's left hand and put it just on her scrotch "Show me how I can really feel in love."

"Bell, I don't know....and Park ?" Greta didn't wanted to make Bell fall in love with her, she knew that she will not see Bell again after this night, only kissing for her was the thing to do. She wanted to reconfort her, nothing else but as Greta told her that Bell start to have some tears coming out of her eyes. "Please, don't cry....please." Greta was really touched by Bell right now, she cleaned up the tears with her other hand....and also her start to have some tears too. For the first time, Greta was helping someone to feel better and she was refusing her proposal to go further and after seeing Bell's reaction, she knew that she will not be at 100% for the future and that she will never tell her feelings to Park.

"Greta, help me." Bell's voice was cracking under the weight of the emotions

"Bell, I..." Greta voice's too, she couldn't refuse anymore. "Ok, I will but...."

"But ?"

"I will be the only one to do it, okay ? I don't want you to fall in love with me." Greta pass her hand through Bell's hair

"Why ?"

"Because after that night, we will not see each other again and I can't afford it." Greta was telling the truth. "You're not loving me, you're loving Park, not me."

"I just want to know, Greta."

"Bell, If I let you do this to me, you're risking to catch feelings for me and I don't want it. I don't want to take that risk." Greta's hand after passing through Bell's hair, get on Bell's cheek, slowly stroking it "You don't deserve me."

"Just do it, please." Bell finally resigned to Greta's proposition, she didn't want to take that risk too after what Greta told her. When Greta kissed her, Bell first thought that she was the one to love but now that Greta will never return to the safehouse again, she realize that she was threatening her own feelings for Park. She is always there for Bell and Bell didn't want to lose her. "I promise."

"You promise ?"

"I do."

"Ok, I need you to relax now." Greta moved away to get at the same level of Bell's pants "Relax, let me take care of you." She started to remove them slowly, being giving a little help from Bell and after a few seconds, the pants were removed, Bell decided to kept her shoes because of the cold floor of the van. Greta was giving a look at Bell's face, not wanting to hurt her. "Tell me if you want me to stop." Greta could discover Bell's underwear and it was lovely....too lovely to remove, she decided to put the underwear part covering Bell's clit to the side. Before starting, Greta took a last look to Bell, she was panicking. "Bell, don't panick, I'm here."

"Please." Bell breathed

Greta started before to blow some air onto Bell's clit, teasing her a little bit and then, she begins. She leaned forward and start to lick her clit from up to bottom. Feeling Greta's tongue alongside her pussy was giving Bell some chills inside her body. Her hands was holding the floor firmly as she was taken away by Greta. Wow....the only thing Bell was thinking right now. Everything was amazing right now for her, she couldn't think straight but she's sure as hell to love this moment.

"Bloody hell." Bell moaned in pleasure as Greta started to lick more faster

"Don't panick." Greta stopped herself but she wasn't stopping to take a breath but in fact, she told her that because as soon she finished, she started to brought her index finger inside Bell's clit, making Bell jump a little but she calmed herself as Greta ordered.

Everything Greta was doing was filling Bell with more pleasure and more lust than she never had before. The moanings were becoming loud as Greta licked faster and was fingering her at the same time, it was amazing. She never thought that she will be doing her first time with someone she only met hours ago and she realize that she was like her. She wouldn't wanted this to stop, the moment were too beautiful to stop, her heart pounding faster.

"Fuck, Greta..." Bell exclaimed, filled with all the pleasure she wanted but then, she was starting to get more close to something she never had before : orgasm. "Greta, I...I'm feeling...." Bell never felt such thing and when she said that, Greta stopped and get back at her level

"It's okay." Greta smiled before getting her lips back into the top of Bell's one while she was still stroking Bell's clit with her hand, rapidly. Getting kissed and stroked at the same time....well that was giving the best from Bell and finally after at least 30 seconds, Bell finally released everything she had and squirt on the van floor. Greta withdrawed from the kiss to let Bell see what was happening. Bell was taking back her breath, relieved to finally enjoy herself with a woman. She waited all of her life for this moment.

As they were finally finished, Greta give Bell a last little kiss on her lips.

"Greta...thanks you." Bell put her hand on Greta's cheek but then, she started crying again

"Bell, what's wrong ?" Greta asked, worried

"I shouldn't ask you, I'm sorry." Bell was feeling sorry because even she was finally able to have a little bit of sex, something inside of her hoped to have waited

"Don't say that." Greta could only lay down next to Bell. Bell, seeing her, moved her arms to hug Greta, still crying and putting her head on her chest "Why are you crying ?"

"I....I wanted to do this with Park, I shouldn't do it now."

"Bell, it's okay, you don't need to worry about her" She wrapped her arm around Bell "I'm sure that Park loves you."

"What can make you think that ?"

"I know Park very well to know when she's in love with someone. Why do you think she's still with you since you arrived ?"

"That doesn't-"

"Everything was here : that kiss she gave you on the cheek, the fact that she's worried about you. Park....love you." Greta was right, she know Park enough to tell the truth to Bell "She's like you, she doesn't know if you're like her too."

"You're sure ?"

"Of course, Bell. I saw it the first time I saw you two together !"

"Thanks you....thank you !" Bell was a little bit of disoriented right now, she just wanted to have sleep now, she didn't sleep for 2 days. "Greta, can we....can we sleep here ?" Bell asked, not sure "I don't want to return back to the safehouse for the moment."

"Bell, it's okay." Greta put her arms around Bell "We have the night for both of us to talk about anything you want."

"I just want to sleep." Bell closed her eyes "I want to think about Park."

"It's okay !"

Bell closed her eyes, she spent 2 two days non-stop to decrypt files, to kill bad guys and to capture a Perseus agent and finally finished these 2 days by discovering what was love with Greta Keller, something she never had the pleasure in her life but thanks to her, that pleasure was given. Greta showed her that her feelings with Park were real and just helped to make her feel better. Bell couldn't be more thankful than with anyone else. Greta was pleased to have help Bell in a difficult moment. Even if Adler was considering Bell as an asset, Greta saw her like just any human being with a heart....a heart that wanted to shout her true feelings about herself. Both women were happy and could finally slept in each other arms. It was just a way for both women to say to each other that this night means a lot for them.

Bell could finally feel better !

#cod bocw #cod black ops cold war #black ops cold war #bocw #call of duty cold war #cod cw #fem!bell #Greta Keller #Fem!Bell/Keller #Beller #One-shot

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dalgonachan · 5 years ago

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Zero Visibility

pairing: Jeonghan x reader genre: zombie apocalypse au warnings: mentions of firearms prompt: jeonghan’s hands get cold from the downpour outside, but stopping in the midst of danger is something you aren’t so keen about word count: 1121 a/n: if youre still here after me being dead for such a long time haha thanks... anyway, i hope you like this one :) also, i’ll probably edit this since i posted this in a rush because my net is so slow TT

Jeonghan had his arms crossed, hands tightly tucked in between. His feet were on the car seat with knees leaned against the door. On edge due to the surge of adrenaline still coursing through your veins, your grip on the wheel was tense, knuckles turned white as you fixed your gaze on the road. The rainfall outside made it impossible to see despite the windshield wipers; if weather forecasts were still in service, they would most likely broadcast about zero visibility. However, not even bad weather was going to stop you from running away.

"(Y/n)," Jeonghan called softly. You only hummed in reponse, sounding quite annoyed, eyes still looking ahead. "Stop the car."

Your foot doesn't leave the pedal as you ignored his words and charged into the rain. The car was going so fast that you could hear the engine revving like a Maserati racer, sounding even louder than the pounding rain.

"(Y/n), I said stop the car. You're putting our lives in danger with how fast you're going." Jeonghan says firmly, raising his voice above the volume of all the noise.

"We can keep going. If we stop, they'll catch up and we'd be in more danger." You argue stubbornly, shifting the gear to decrease speed. "Don't be scared. I got this."

"Look, there's a gas station." Jeonghan points forward and you slow down even more, looking carefully through the rain and at the blur of a figure he was referring to. Despite the water running down the windshield, you could tell there was a gas station nearby.

"Let's refill the tank and wait for the rain to subside." Jeonghan insisted.

"Fine." You gave in, steering to the side of the road and rolling into the gas station. "Let's just hope the gas pumps work."

As soon as you parked by the nearest gas pump, you shut the engine and grabbed your gun from the compartment.

"I'll be right back," you said before hopping out of the driver's seat and shutting the door. Jeonghan leaned over to watch you grab a pump handle and insert it into the tank, then his eyes went to follow each button your fingers lightly pushed.

Once the pump started filling in the tank, you climbed back up into the car and stared out of the window to watch the numbers on the screen counting down. Jeonghan sat still in his seat, shivering from the cold. The rain was still strong and didn't seem like it was going to stop any time soon. It was also loud, but thanks to the station's roof over you car, the noise was reduced by a few notches.

"The weather isn't going to let up for some while, I guess," Jeonghan remarked, rubbing his hands together and curling up like a ball. "We should stay here and wait it out."

"We can't." Your reply was bland, but the tone in your voice stern. "We should keep going--"

"We've gone far enough." He hissed, giving you the side-eye. Crossing his arms, he looked away and huffed. "I doubt they're still following us. We should rest. Aren't you tired?" He turned to face you again, looking you up and down.

"Not really." You couldn't tell if you were lying or not. Indeed, you felt the exhaustion weighing down on your bones, but the adrenaline was definitely still pulsing within you.

It was difficult to tell time nowadays, but you knew it had been hours ago since you fled. You and Jeonghan were navigating a ghost town when a group of survivors happened to cross paths with you. It was then you were caught in an ambush as they wanted to loot your things and have you dead. Fortunately, you were able to make your escape, but not without attracting a horde of the infected after your tail.

"Put that down," Jeonghan said, causing you to twitch and snap you out of your thoughts. "I said put that down."

You had been unknowingly spinning the gun in your hand as you recalled the events that unfolded previously. Grabbing the handle of the compartment, you opened it and stashed the gun inside.

"Sorry," you muttered. "I was thinking."

Jeonghan let out a heavy sigh, breath still shaky from the cold. "Please tell me we're not going back on the road again. Tell me we're staying the night."

You hesitated, puffing your chest as you inhaled deeply, pondering about it. "I really don't think we should... I--"

"Please," he pleaded, the look on his face desperate. "I'm cold."

You looked him over and could evidently see he was quivering, hiding his fingers beneath his arms that had gone pale. The storm outside roared on relentlessly. Looking at the circumstances, it did seem like you had to wait it out before resuming the drive. Perhaps listening to Jeonghan would be the best decision at the moment.

Tugging at his arms, you get him to uncross them. His skin feels icy when you clasp his hands in yours. He's silent as he watches you blowing warm air at his palms while rubbing your thumbs over them. The action helps Jeonghan calm down a bit, but his hands were still frigid.

"I hope you don't mind, but I'm going to have to do this." You tell him as a word of caution while tugging the sleeves of his sweater down to his elbows.

Without making any second thoughts, you shoved his hands underneath your shirt. The moment his skin made contact with yours, you winced from the sudden chill introduced to your body. Jeonghan was baffled at your boldness, his eyes wide and unblinking. Eventually, he gets used to the sensation at the same time as you do and softens up.

"I think this is enough. I'm good." He withdraws his hands from you and you notice color returning to it. There's gratefulness in his tone, you sense, but he's too abashed to express it in words.

"We're staying the night." You say as an alternative for "you're welcome" and Jeonghan sighs in relief.

He grabs the lever underneath his seat and reclines it. Tossing over to his side facing you, he pats your thigh and tells you to recline your seat as well; you gladly comply. Once lied down, your eyes are level with each other as you bore your gaze into his. Ever so meekly, he lifted his hand and placed it beside your hand which went over to rest on top of his. Shy smiles are exchanged between the both of you before he fluttered his eyes to a close and dozed off. It takes a while, but soon enough, the rhythm of your heart becomes peaceful and you're fast asleep.

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daincrediblegg · 5 years ago

Text

close comfort

Author’s Note: My birthday’s tomorrow and I’m feeling a little blue. I had a thought for this a couple days ago and plugged it out. Don’t have time to proofread ‘cause I gotta get out the door pretty quick today but happy belated valentines day, I guess.

Morning always comes too quickly for them both.

The curtains, thick and blood red drown the morning light, but the cold breath of the frosted beast of winter from the city outside flutters them every now and again, enough to remind him how vampiric their nights together are. How the world outside will not wait for them to heal each other every time they can’t catch a break. It’s the part of the routine he truly despises. Watching those curtains puff outward as though pushed by phantoms, breathing.

She’s still asleep, cozy as a queen and holding him by the waist softly under their blankets. It’s funny- the first time they’d slept together he’d been certain they’d catch a cold like this- letting freezing air in like that. He should have known that her warmth would protect him. As it always has and does still now, with every soft breath into his shoulder, with every drowsy drag of her heartbeat. She is fire incarnate- even though she makes every claim to the contrary. In these sleepy hours they share, he knows the truth. He can feel it.

The curtains ruffle their impatience, letting the dreary light of day heckle him for his musings again. He hates to leave her, even though he should. It’s only temporary. A few short hours away and they’d be right back here. Where she softly kisses his cheeks and shoulders and lips.

But she’ll have to leave too, he remembers. It’s either him or her. It just happens that he’s the one saddled with that choice today.

So he sits up, allowing her arm to slide and fall over his concaving belly as he scooches forward and off the bed.

The air of the room hitting his skin throws every nerve he has into whiplash. Through the thin faux-silk pants that drape delicately over his bony knees, even through his threadbare briefs. He presses on, running a hand through his hair, thinking of what to do first. He wants to make breakfast for her. A little bowl of oatmeal for the two of them. She’d like that, surely, but first to cure the chill on his skin.

His eyes catch on the big hamper in the corner, where a dark scrap of cloth hangs from the lip of the basket- a quirk to remind her that it can be worn again without much worry for odor.

Arthur stands, and silently pads his way with the skill of a ballet dancer across the room, lifting the shirt from its resting place with the squares of his fingertips.

It’s one of her favorites. A black tee, well worn. The thin cotton has lost its dark luster from years of cheap detergent and wear, a few tiny star-like holes where his skin peeks out- places where its caught itself in zippers and jean buttons and the like. If he used enough force, he could tear the thing apart, but to do that would destroy him equally. The thing is enchanted, you see. She always seems to smile a little bit more brightly when she wears it, as old a thing as it is, and its magic is strong enough that it seems… he smiles a bit more seeing her in it too.

That’s when the idea rushes into his head like a crack of rusted thunder. He untangles the shirt slowly, turning the inside back out again. And then his arms loop their way through the bottom, weaving like little stick bugs through the sleeves. As he pulls it over his head, he breathes deep, and he didn’t know what to expect, but the stumble in his step at how the thing smells hits him.

It’s all her. All her, all over. The shampoo he’s worked into her hair and even his own once or twice. The faintest vestiges of the floral bouquet she dons when they decide they can’t stand to be in the apartment anymore. But among it all, he finds, overwhelmingly… a perfume entirely her own. Organic, biological. The kind that came in on a whirlwind and fills the apartment with its fumes and exterminates every care, worry and fear. It’s the kind of smell he misses in the sweat and the stink of the locker room at Haha’s. The kind you could lose so easily in the mountainous black bags, piled high on every street.

But on him… on him it can’t fade into his day like the memory of a melody. On him it masks all, and for a moment he wonders if he can get through the day all right for a change.

His fingers pad over the fabric, draped over his chest and stomach now like big concert hall curtains. His fingers finally can’t help themselves, curling under the hem of the collar and lifting it to his nose, enveloping it, letting all these things that are so naturally her fill his lungs so he might breathe anew.

He turns when he hears a gentle hum behind him. Her hair hangs over her face, as she slowly lifts herself from their warm nest of pillows. A sleepy hand drags the hair behind her ears, and her eyes- barely open- still shine so brightly, even in the dark, just seeing him standing there. Love-struck in her shirt.

“Morning.” she mumbles airily. A grin ghosts over her lips, and she sits up. He runs his fingers over the fabric, a little ashamed of what he’s about to ask, but still knowing he’s safe enough to ask it at all.

“Can I wear this today?”

His voice is so soft it barely sounds like he’s speaking it all. Her own nightshirt reveals a handsomely plush midriff as she sits up further, giving her pretty sleep-addled head a chance to truly take the sight of him in.

“ ‘Course you can.”

Her shoulders curl as her arms settle sweetly in front of her, satisfaction and warmth ebbing from her every gesture, but the question is still implied with her head, lilting to the side as she savors this: why?

Arthur turns to her slowly, child-like with his hands caught in the cookie jar. He should be searching for words to tell her. Words that a poet might use, or a king. But he’s neither of those things. He’s just a man, who knows exactly what he wants to say in front of the one person he thinks he may ever truly love. And for that, his voice is quiet when he finds the courage to speak.

“... smells like you. Like home.”

At that the corners of her lips wane, but her eyes never leave him with their unerring softness. As though tired and cold be damned she throws the covers off of her, revealing half-naked thighs and underthings the world never sees. She strides to him and quickly enough to startle- her arms are around him- tight enough to keep Gotham from tugging him away. She breathes deep in his shoulder, and the bliss in her hum as she sighs out her contentment gives him enough strength to wrap his arms around her form, gently holding her back in kind.

“I don’t wanna leave.” she mumbles. He scoffs at the sheer coincidence.

“Do you ever?”

“No.” she replies between nuzzles into the crook of his neck.

At this she withdraws. A hand leaving its place to snake up his neck, letting her fingers admire the line of his jaw. She kisses him, and her lips melt his- chill to the touch. He returns, dancing his lips against hers like any proper gentleman should, and he thanks his instinct to hear her sigh into him for it. She’s still close enough to whisper when they break apart, and he knows the day will be all right…

“But it makes coming back worth it.”

#arthur fleck x reader #joker x reader #arthur fleck imagine #joker fanfiction #fanfic #joker 2019 #my writing #arthur fleck fluff #arthur fleck #joker

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vikingsarememes · 5 years ago

Text

His True Wife

previous part ↭ part five ↭ next part

Main Characters: Hvitserk Ragnarsson, Reader, Ubbe Ragnarsson.

Characters Mentioned: Ivar the boneless, Thora, Freydis, Original characters

Summary: you devoted yourself into looking after Hvitserk and whenever you get time for yourself you became haunted by your own memories and an unwanted visits.

Word Count: 1669

A/N: I’m sorry if this might suck, i didn’t edit it well because I’m a little bit tired but i hope you guys enjoy it anyways

warnings: none

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“Y/N! You promised!” The screams echoed in the hut, the screams of Hvitserk getting rid of the toxic in his blood, he was squirming on the floor, whimpering, you locked him in the small room that was supposed to be filled with your children one day, you were inside with him of course.

“Hvitserk i told you, once they go to the town, they’ll bring you some” you lied, you’d never allow him to eat those cursed mushrooms ever again, you wouldn’t allow him to get himself hurt like that “I need them!” he shouted, with every scream of pain, you thought his soul would just come out of his body, he didn’t allow you to hold him, he didn’t want to listen to you, he wanted to be numb, to lose track of his senses “do you still see them?” you asked, crawling closer to him on the floor, he was now hiding his face with his arms, you placed his head on your lap “Thora doesn’t know this place, she doesn’t visit unless I’m asleep, I can’t fall asleep, Ivar would return and kill me! He’s everywhere! He’s laughing at me! He’s everywhere Y/N”

He sobbed, you lifted his body up and hid him between your arms, desperately trying to protect the man from himself “he’s a monster! He killed Thora, he killed Fredyis, he killed his child and now he’ll kill me! He killed you too didn’t he? That’s why he came to your farm, to end the life of everyone who cared for me! He wants me to go mad, he wants to laugh at me as I die, he doesn’t want me going to Valhalla with father!” he said hysterically, sweat all over his body, the room was cold, but you can’t let him out, not before he’s calm again.

“He didn’t kill me Hvitserk, he only came here to say his goodbyes, you’re safe with me, you see all the men and women on this farm? They are ready to defend us to death if they have to! They’re building a fortress just for us, you are untouchable here, don’t you like the sound of that?” he looked at you and nodded “untouchable” he repeated, his breathing became calmer, his voice as well, he was still shaking but not like before.

“Yes, untouchable” you smiled, “I’m tired Y/N” he whispered closing his eyes, “get up, let me put you in bed” he nodded and stood up, trembling immediately, luckily you were there to catch him, you giggled softly and knocked on the door, three times, three meant open the door, it’s safe, and with that, the door was opened, your slave held a cup of water, you gave it to Hvitserk once he sat down on the bed, you undid his heavy clothes and he laid down under the fur, it was routine by now, the two of you danced this dance every day for the past two weeks.

“I must go and see what work is done, stay with him, make sure he sleeps well, call for me if anything happens” you whispered to the woman standing next to your bed once your prince was asleep, she nodded and pulled a chair, sitting close to the bed, you patted her shoulder then walked outside, the sun was shining even though it was winter, it made you happy, reminded you of the days when you and Ivar would sit in the small garden you had in your farm and have your meal outside, days like this were rare in Kattegat, yet, you made sure to keep up with this tradition of yours each time.

“Lady Y/N! I take it our prince is well-rested?” Thoman greeted once he saw you, you stood next to him “at last he is dear Thoman, tell me, how’s the work?” you smiled “we are planting the new seeds in the new ground of Thoranssons, and our animals are well” he declared, you nodded “perhaps I will attend to my garden then if I’m not needed” you sighed, missing the days when you worked in the field, but now you had so many hands that some of them barely found anything to do.

You went to the garden, it was behind the house, isolated, the view was the mountains and the roses were meant for shade, they were the same as you last visited, you sat on the grass, and looked at the ones Ivar loved the most, you leaned closer and breathed their scent in, he liked how they smelled, he’d always pick one and place it in your hair.

You picked one of them and held it close, inhaling the beautiful smell “they’re your favorite, I still attend them for you when you return, I still think they are useless, but you loved them, you loved how we argued about them, I would tell you I prefer red roses and you’d you’d say it’s stupid, white ones were pure, they reminded you of me, that’s what you always said” you felt your tears falling down your cheeks with every word you spoke.

“You swore that you’ll be back, you promised me Ivar Ragnarsson! But it’s been so damn long! I don’t even know if you’ll ever return, I’m waiting for a ghost, I supposed I’m no different from Hvitserk, but at least he gets to see you!” you started sobbing, clinging to the rose “you greedy idiot! Why wasn’t I enough for you? Why did you have to want everything? Couldn’t you just escape and be with me instead? I didn’t want children or titles, I just wanted to be with you, I wanted to hold your hand and be held by you! I never asked for anything but your love!”

You felt a stab in the heart with every word you spoke, you missed him, but you hated him so much for leaving you, you wanted to kill him and you wanted him to hold you the way he used to do “you are a liar, Ivar the boneless, if you ever loved me, you wouldn’t leave me hanging like this, you would’ve taken me with you, I will never forgive you for the pain I’m feeling, and I’ll never forgive her for taking you and turning you into this monster everyone is afraid of! I curse her! Do you hear me? Ivar the god… I curse that snake! I curse Loki’s whore! And I curse you for leaving me!” you screamed in agony and crushed the rose that you were holding, storming out of the garden.

Trys rushed to you instantly, you wiped your tears off “my lady” she shouted, you walked fasted “what?” you roared angrily, “King Ubbe’s here with his men! He’s angry and demanding an entrance” she mumbled, intimidated by your rage, something that never happened before, you walked faster to the front of your farm and saw Ubbe shouting angrily at Thoman “What is it that you want Ubbe?” you snapped, standing between the two men, he was at the gate, your slaves weren’t allowing him to enter your ground, everyone had their weapons prepared.

“Where’s my brother? I wish to see him now! Let me and my men through!” he demanded “this ground does not belong to you Ubbe and you cannot come here and walk in without permission, this land is protected, you want to see Hvitserk after two weeks of him living here? Fine, you come with me, alone, unarmed” you didn’t wait for him to answer, you walked back to the hut he followed, only him, unarmed like you requested “you took my brother without a permission” he trailed, you rolled your eyes “I helped my friend when he needed me the most, while you left him all alone to rotten” you corrected, carefully opening the door.

“Hvitserk!” Ubbe shouted and you placed a hand on his mouth “he just slept” you whispered, you watched the man twitch in his sleep and flip, you took few steps closer to the bed and caressed his hair softly, he rested calmly and held your hand into his, Ubbe watched speechlessly “is he well?” He whispered and you nodded “he’s withdrawing and sometimes it gets overwhelming for him, he was awake for two days, before finally collapsing on the bed” you replied ever so quietly “would you like to stay and talk to him when he wakes up?” Seeing Hvitserk asleep so peacefully made your heart soften even towards Ubbe, after all, he was only worried about his little brother, Ubbe nodded “my men?” He required, you sighed and looked at the woman “tell them they can enter if they leave the weapons behind the fences, and prepare a meal, they will dine with you while prince Ubbe will dine with me” you ordered, keeping your voice low, the woman nodded and went to obey.

Once Hvitserk let go of your hand, you got up and sat on the chair near the fireplace, Ivar’s chair, or so it used to be, Ubbe followed and sat across from you, “when I sent him away… I thought he’d recover on his own, tough love, you know?” He admitted after a period of silence “I didn’t know how to handle him, I was afraid, I know you dislike me but I respect you for helping my brother” he said as he looked at you “I’ll grant you protection” he mumbled, you shook your head no “I had protection once, and look where it left me, I don’t wish to take sides in your wars Ubbe, nor the games you brothers play with each other”

“If he returns would you help him?” he asked, even though he didn’t say a name but you knew very well who he was talking about “I don’t know how I’ll feel when I see him, he hurt me, but what we have is big, it was built by years, I might, but who knows”

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Tags: (let me know if you want to be tagged for this story) @i-am-a-teenage-dirtbaggg @lol-haha-joke @youbloodymadgenius @moonlightsspirit @supernaturalvikingwhore @heavenly1927 @fuck-i-cant-find-a-name @gearhead66

Gif source: stolen from google images.

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threadofdestiny · 5 years ago

Text

The opportunities we may take

(The picture was a comission i ordered from a friend. Check her out -> Fantasiamind_art)

Sinbad x OC

Soulmate AU

Part 5

Solomon´s gift

---Temple of Dalmasca, Sanctum of Solomon’s writings---

"He is such an idiot! Did he really have to run into that time-window-thing without thinking about it? Did he ultimately lost his damn mind?", Ja'far fumed, gripping his white hair in panic. He ran angrily up and down the podium, while Yamraiha watched the glowing veil with interest, trying to analyze how it works. Masrur, however, sat on one of the steps, after lighting up the four torches surrounding the platform, while he decided to silently watch his two companions.

"I mean, he can't really be damn serious! Besides, can you actually believe what the Djinn had said? He can't exist twice at the same time. What the hell does that even mean?", the young advisor continued to whine, throwing his arms up in the air.

"What if his younger self is going to vanish? Or his present self? What if Sindria is going to vanish? This damn idiot puts us all at risk. And all of this for a damn girl.", Ja'far went on furiously, already getting a very red face, because he forgot to breath properly in his anger. "You use the word "damn" quite often right now, Ja'far", Yamraiha mumbled absently, while she was trying to touch the shining veil, unfortunately without success. "Hmm, something is stopping us from going in as well. Very interesting.", analyzed the magician, before she decided to walk around the phenomen to inspect it from all angles.

At that moment the veil flickered again before finally their purple haired companion stepped out with deliberate steps. When Ja'far noticed him, he turned angrily to Sinbad, deciding to strangle him for his recklessness. But before he could take action the adviser saw the girl in the arms of his king and stopped abruptly in his tracks.

The generals gasped in surprise at the sight of the couple. A huge amount of rukh fluttered around them as the veil and the flowing lights began to disappear behind them. The glow of the bangle that rested on the girl's wrist went out after a few seconds. The young woman sighed exhausted, but made no move to shift otherwise. Her arms were wrapped tightly around Sinbad's shoulders, while her face was pressed against the bend of his neck. The king's gaze wandered from Salome to his generals as a triumphant grin spread across his lips.

"I'm back! Did you miss me?", announced the king humorously, while he tried to adjust Salome in his arms. His companions raised their eyebrows in disbelief, while waiting for Sinbad to stop joking around, still shocked to find the girl from the magical artifact in their kings presence.

Suddenly the girl began to move in the man's grasp and slowly raised her head. "W-Would you please be so kind to put me down?", she whispered shyly in his ear, as she loosened her arms around his shoulders.

"Ah, yes, of course.", he answered before carefully setting Salome down. However, he didn't let go of her completely, strangely not ready to do so. His hand lingered on her waist as he looked worriedly at her pale face. With a mild smile on her lips, she bashfully looked up at the purple haired man. If he were a different man, the soft expression with which the young woman gazed up at him, would have embarrased him eventually. However, Sinbad was used to the delighted looks most women gave him, so he was pleased that she was doing it too. But if he was honest to himself, he couldn't help but to stare at her in wonderment as well. She was actually here. He had truly carried her through the veil into his time.

Her dainty hand rested on his chest to stabilize her balance, as she turned uncertainly around to face the king's entourage. They all looked at her with wide eyes, hardly believing that Salome really stood in front of them. It was not difficult to guess that she had just come from a battlefield. Her clothes were torn in many places, her skin was covered with scratches and her face was pale from the magoi's deprivation. Still, she looked at the generals with clear, curious eyes.

She watched the three people quietly until Sinbad finally cleared his throat and began to introduce them to each other:"Salome, may I introduce you to three of my closest friends? These are Yamraiha, Ja'far and Masrur. Guys, this pretty lady is Salome.", Sinbad said cheerfully, trying not to show that he too was surprisingly exhausted from the withdrawal of his magoi. She gave each of the three generals a shy smile, while she unconsciously tried to smooth her dress down. Yamraiha gave her an encouraging grin as she winked at the brown-haired young woman. Masrur nodded silently, while Ja'far came up to her and offered his hand for her to shake, greeting her with a friendly smile on his lips:"Glad to meet you, Miss Salome.", spoke the white-haired young man in a kind manner. Salome looked surprised at the hand she was offered, but then beamed at Ja'far and embraced his hand warmly with hers as she replied: "Thank you very much. It's nice to meet you, too."

At the moment she had let go of Sinbad, however, her legs suddenly gave way under her, while black dots appeared briefly in front of her eyes. Before she could fall over, both Sinbad's hands tightened around her waist, while Ja'far grabbed her shoulders hastily. "Uh...I'm sorry ... I'm feeling a little dizzy.", Salome gasped, blinking, while holding onto Ja'far's forearms in hope to stabilize herself.

"It's alright. Sin, we should sit her down so she can rest a bit.", the advisor turned to his king, who nodded in agreement. Together they sank to the floor to sit down for a moment. As Yamraiha came closer to look at the younger girl, Ja'far moved away to make room for them. Sinbad, on the other hand, stayed behind Salome without separating himself from her.

"Hmm, looks like Magoi depletion ... but I'm not surprised. Time and Space magic requires a lot of Magoi, you have to have really high reserves, after all, you're still awake. I have never seen such powerful magic. Where have you been, before Sinbad hd reached you?", asked Yamraiha curiously.

Salome swallowed before answering hesitantly: "Here ... But Dalmasca was under attack. The priests were getting ready to seal the temple." Sinbad stroked gently over Salome's skin of her upper arms, leaving a gentle tingling sensation.

"Wow...That... That's several years ago... That's impossible. I mean it should be impossible.", Yamraiha explained, looking at Sinbad with a worried expression. "The priests said that Alexander is an extremely powerful Djinn ... In addition, the reader of the waves is able to shape fate according to his will.", Salome tried to help clarify as she turned to Sinbad looking up at him admiringly. "I think without you I would have been lost in a time crack until I finally ran out of magoi. But you could see where we have to go. You are so strong.", whispered Salome, looking enchanted into his golden eyes, which resembled the natural color of the rukh that circled around them. Sinbad grinned triumphantly at her, satisfied with the compliments he received from the pretty girl in his arms.

"Incredible!"The magician breathed, leaning back, as she thought about the new information's. "You... you are a blessed one, aren't you?", Salome asked, looking briefly at the staff which rests next to the mage's feet, after she turned her attention back to the other woman.

"Eh? What?", Yamraiha replied, blushing.

"You can manipulate the rukh with your magoi, right? You are blessed with the power of magic. It is an honor to meet you!", Salome explained and bowed her head respectfully as the rukh joyfully flew around them. "Oh my, you're so cute. I've never been called that. Haha, I like it!", Yamraiha shouted, holding her glowing cheeks, while she decided to rub this title under Sharrkan's nose later.

Sinbad, who had listened to the conversation, spoke up:"Yam, let poor Salome take a breath before you bombard her with more questions. I think we'll take a break here before we start to leave this place."

After some rest, Salome had left the group for a moment, to sit a little further away, thinking about her situation. Sinbad sat next to Ja'far and Masrur to discuss how to proceed, while Yamraiha stood a few steps below and eagerly deciphered the characters on the walls.

Salome found it difficult to understand what had happened recently. Just a few hours ago she and her brother had ran away from black Djinns and enemy magicians and now she was in the sanctuary, but no longer in her time. She felt disconnected and dreaded what she would discover if she left this platform. It was a comforting feeling that the rukh tried to console her, that she did everything right, but she couldn't stop wondering if the price hadn't been too high.

"Are you alright?", came Sinbad's velvet voice behind her. Torn out of her thoughts, she turned to the man who had spoken to her and looked into his golden eyes. It was still hard to believe that he was with her. His presence felt incredibly right, and yet it was kind of strange. Surreal.

"Ah... yes. Thank you," she replied, watching him sit down next to her. They looked at each other silently for a few moments, not knowing how to start the conversation, when Salome decided to break the silence.

"Did you make it, Sinbad?", she asked curiously and let her eyes slide over Sinbad's appearance. He was a really handsome man who wore very fine clothes. When she spoke his name, a soft gleam appeared in his eyes. Sinbad cocked his head questioningly as he examined her carefully. "What are you talking about?"

"Did you actually manage to form a kingdom?", she asked, turning completely towards him. A big grin spread across Sinbad's lips as he proudly inflated his chest.

"Yes, the kingdom of Sindria! You will love it. I promise!", he answered with a proud expression on his face, before he began to discribe his kingdom enthusiasticly:"It is an island, like this one. We have nice weather all year round. The markets are filled with products from all over the world and the fish that the fishermen catch is incredibly delicious. Everyone smiles and works hard to make this country bloom.", he said excited as he reached for her hand euphorically, overlooking the sad glimmer in her eyes for a moment.

"I'll show you everything. The market place, the harbor, the beach and of course the palace", he begann to count, when he suddenly catched her sad expression:"I am sorry... Are you alright?", he asked when Salome tilted her face to the side. Immediately she sat up a little straighter again and smiled reassuringly:"My apologies, everything you have said sounds wonderful and I am glad that you want to show it to me. I... I'm just a little afraid of what awaits me out there. For me Dalmasca was attacked a few hours ago.", Salome explained carefully. Sinbad could have slapped himself immediately. Of course, she wasn't feeling well. How could he suppress that this was not necessarily a nice situation for her? She looked completely deranged and he had seen what condition Dalmasca was in. "Tell me ... is it very bad out there? I wonder how the people are.", Salome bit her lower lip nervously, as she glanced at the stairs. Sinbad squeezed her fingers gently before he ran his thumb over them. When he shifted a little closer to her, he ran his free hand over her dust-covered cheeks.

"To be honest ... I have to admit that it's not a pretty sight ... This island is in ruins ... and unfortunately I haven't met a human soul yet.", Sinbad said hesitantly, watching how her lips trembled.

"But I'm sure there are still people living on this island. When we landed at the harbor, we noticed currently used fishing boats. Whatever happens, Salome, I ... uh I mean: we are with you. You don't have to go through this alone.", he tried to cheer her up. Sinbad was surprised to feel his ears get hot when he saw a grateful glint in her pretty turquoise eyes as she put her free hand on their intervened ones.

"Thank you, Sinbad.", she murmured gently.

"Wow, the rukh are totally crazy about them.", Yamraiha stated with interest after she had joined Ja'far and Masrur at the top of the stairs again. The other two also glanced furtively at the couple. Masrur's expression didn't reveal his thoughts, but Ja'far looked a little worried.

"What's wrong, Ja'far?", Yamraiha asked when she noticed his expression.

"I just wonder how it will go on. Sinbad is not exactly the type of men who keeps a girl. Look at how young she is. Sooner or later he will wrap her around his finger and then what? breaking her heart?", he whispered softly so that only the two generals could hear him. The other two generals thought about what was said when Ja'far continued with his explanation: "I mean look at how she is already gazing at him. It can't go well."

"Well I don't know what you see Ja'far, but I rather have the feeling that Sinbad is staring at her like a puppy in love. Also ... ah, never mind, we should just wait and see what happens. For my part, I like her. She carried an incredibly warm atmosphere around her, if you get what I mean.", Yamraiha replied and received an approving nod from the two men.

"She is a good person.", Masrur agreed before getting up and walking towards Sinbad and Salome.

"We should go back to the ship. The sun will go down in a few hours.", he said loudly enough for everyone to hear. As if on his sign, everyone rose, before lifting the torches out of their holders.

As they descended the stairs, Salome pointed to the walls, where the golden characters were faintly visible. "This place is the sanctuary of the temple of Dalmasca. It is written that the high priest Alexander built this church with his disciples and immortalized the writings of Solomon on these walls.", Salome described, while Ja'far turned to her questioningly: "Alexander? Like your Djinn?"

The girl nodded.

"It seems so, yes. It is said that he descended from Solomons holy kingdom on behalf of the great king himself to guard the flow of the Rukh and to aid it's listener as soon as she is born into the world.", she replied, trying to get closer to the edge of the stairs, hoping to better illuminate the scriptures.

"You are the listener of the rukh, right? Alexander had called you by that name.", Sinbad said, watching the girl like a hawk. Salome paused and pouted at him:"Alexander spoke to you?" He nodded in confusion before answering:"Yes, he brought us here. Whereby I actually wonder how he could manifest himself without a magi, especially when his vessel was not even present."

"Alexander is a Djinn of the light type. During this time he may not have resided in a vessel anymore, but has returned to Solomon's stream. With light magic one is able to create illusions.", Salome conjectured and got an approving nod from Yamraiha.

"I guess it has also something to do with the amount of rukh that are residing here.", Yamraiha interjected thoughtfully. "Dalmasca has always been surrounded by many rukh. Is that abnormal?", asked Salome.

Sinbad and Yamraiha nodded in agreement before the mage spoke again. "Yeah a lot. Sindria also has a lots of rukh, but I guess that's because of Sinbad. I wonder if it's up to you that so many rukh are gathering here."

Salome shrugged as she continued down the stairs. "No idea. But there were also a lot of blessed people living here. The temple trained them to become priests.", Salome replied.

Once at the bottom, the brown-haired girl paused and took a deep breath. Her gaze slid over the skelletons that lay on the floor as her shoulders slumped. Sinbad immediately stood next to her and put a hand on her shoulder blades.

"Are you alright?", he whispered, stroking her back. Swallowing, Salome nodded, closing her eyes for a moment. "I, yes ... But they shouldn't be lying around here so neglected. It's not fair.", she muttered sadly. Sinbad looked at his generals, who looked back expectantly.

"We don't have much time left.", Masrur said. Sinbad turned to Salome apologetically, but she shook her head and spoke in a defensively manner:"I understand. Just give me a short moment, yes? I want to say goodbye."

Reluctantly, her companions nodded and moved away from her. The generals were already moving in the corridor that would lead them up into the hall. Sinbad, however, stopped at the entrance and turned to Salome, who had put her hand on her chest and bowed respectfully to the deceased priests.

With her profile turned to him, he could see that she was saying something, but he was too far away to hear what. Fascinated, Sinbad watched her head tilt to the side, as she seem to listen to something only she could hear. The light of the torch, which was in her hand, illuminated her face, as a gentle smile spread on her lips. Her face turned in his direction as she nodded confidently. When their eyes met, there was a crackle in the air that sent a shiver down both of their spines. As if by itself, Sinbad's legs moved back to her as she looked up at him expectantly. Her attention was completely back to the man who was attracting her like a magnet and she was surprised to find that her heart suddenly began to beat much faster. When he stopped in front of her, he raised his hand to run his fingers gently over her ear. Her breath caught as his golden eyes stared intently into her turquoise ones.

"What did you hear, my dear?", he asked in a velvety voice, while the gold in his eyes got a liquid sheen from the firelight. "I'm not supposed to be sad because the priests are now part of the holy stream again. They say I should follow you and keep going on.", she whispered, caught by his gaze. His fingers left her ear to slowly brush across her jaw.

"You told me in your message that you were waiting for me because you were meant to be with me.", he recited, leaning forward slowly as his fingers slid under her chin, while he received a silent nod from Salome. A wolfish grin spread across his lips as his eyes slid to her plump ones. Giving in to his need, he ran his thumb over her lower lip, completely overwhelmed by how much the connection between them made the air sizzle around them.

"I don't know why your King Solomon gave me such a nice gift, but I'm very happy to accept it!", he purred as his free hand went over her shaking one, holding the torch to stabilize it.

Salome looked at him speechless. The atmosphere between them had changed suddenly and it was difficult for her to keep calm. She had completely underestimated their connection. Of course, she had felt how it was getting stronger after actually facing each other for the first time, but that ... that was intense. Is that what Solomon wanted?

"Sinbad.", she breathed, while she slowly put her hand on his chest, not sure if she wanted to dig into the fabric or push him away.

Suddenly there was a loud bang from the upper floor which made them detach from each other in alarm. Sinbad hurriedly snatched the torch from her hand and reached for Salome's wrist with his other one.

"Come!", he ordered before pulling her behind him to run up the stairs to the front hall.

#sinbad magi #sinbadxoc #adventuresofsinbad #sinbad #ocxsinbad #sinbad no bouken #magi #magilabyrinthofmagic #magithekingdomofmagic #magi the labyrinth of magic #magi the kingdom of magic

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mint-yooxgi · 5 years ago

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[15] - The Forbidden Pool

Wolf AU - Part of the EXO Wolf Series

Genre: Mature, Fluff, Angst

Pairing: EXO OT12 X Reader; Jongdae X Reader

Words: 3,530

A/n: On the final day of Ficmas, Jackie gave to me~ Haha, does this even still count anymore? Oh well, to me it does! Happy New Year everybody, I hope it’s filled with peace, love, and joy for all of you! I can’t wait for you all to read what I have planned for not only this story, which I hope to finish in 2020, but also my other works as well! Sorry it’s been awhile for an update on this series, and sorry it’s a bit short, but I do hope you like it! As always, feedback is greatly appreciated, I hope you enjoy~

Previous ~ Next

Dinner passes by fairly quickly, the excited energy radiating from your mates as clear as day. Each minute that passes only serves to make them more antsy to start training with you. They’re all secretly hoping to impress you, even those who have already practiced with their powers already that day.

Once the dishes are all cleaned, and everything is put away, you all head back outside to open backyard. Most of your friends, consisting of the hybrids, the witches, as well as most of the vampires find a spot on the deck to watch the training ensue. Those of them too tired to train at the moment, needing to rest from their journeys, or from the day they’ve had. The rest of them opt to either lean against the deck, or stand.

“So, how is this going to work?” Minseok asks, standing off to the side with the others as you turn to face them.

“This can go either one of two ways,” you begin, looking over each of them as they stare at you. “One, you all come at me and see how you fair as a team. Or two, one-on-one combat sessions for me to assess your skills.”

“Well, since they haven’t all mastered their powers yet, one-on-one combat sessions would probably be easier,” Key says, moving to stand beside you.

“I second that,” Jongdae says, taking your other side.

You see the majority of them nod their heads in agreement, to which you nod once in understanding, “alright, then it’s settled. Who wants to go first?”

You can see the slight hesitation in all of their eyes, as well as hear it in their thoughts, causing some of your friends to chuckle.

“They’re going to get their asses whooped,” Taemin laughs, eyes crinkling at the sides, causing some of your friends to laugh along with him.

“You mean just like you do every time you fight her?” Minho quirks a brow, causing Taemin to immediately become quiet, making his brothers start to chuckle in response.

“Here, why don’t we show them how it’s done first?” Jaehwan grins, stepping forwards towards you.

“Sure, why not,” you hum. “I haven’t done aerial combat in a while.”

Your mates seemingly let out a small sigh of relief at this. As much as they want to start combat training with you, they’re worried about making a fool of themselves in front of you, or worse. Especially since now they have a large crowd watching their every move.

You’ll have to get over those fears sooner, rather than later, your voice resounds within their heads. In order for me to train you, you’ll have to fight me.

Everyone except for you and Jaehwan move back off to the side near the porch of the house, either finding a seat, or standing. They all look on with bated breath, all watching on in anticipation as you face Jaehwan who stands directly across from you.

“Remember, if your goal isn’t to kill me, you won’t win,” you say, hearing a few growls sound from your mates as you see Jaehwan nod once in understanding.

He rolls his shoulders a few times, stretching out his wings once as you crack your neck. Closing your eyes briefly, you take a deep breath.

“Begin!” You call, eyes flinging open as you watch him lunge at you.

Easily sidestepping him, you duck your head just in time to avoid one of his wings, which moves to strike you. While he has his back turned, you take this opportunity to use the opening presented to you to strike his back, just below his wings, a place in which you know he’s the most sensitive.

“Haven’t forgotten that, have you?” He turns to you, speaking through gritted teeth as you jump away from him.

“Any weakness is an advantage for your enemy,” you smile at him, tilting you head to the side slightly. “So, no, I haven’t forgotten.”

You can hear the whispers of the others on the stairs, muttering about how skilled you are in combat, and how the match is going so far. You haven’t even brought your powers into this yet, and you’ve already gained the upper hand. You smirk.

Stretching his wings out, he takes off from the ground, hovering in the air and waiting for you to join him. Your smirk deepens as you launch yourself into the air, aiming right for him as you begin to draw energy from the air around you. Collecting the moisture in the air, you shape it into a blade, hardening it into solid ice.

Your blade clashes with one made out of metal, seemingly pulled out of thin air. However, you know this blade is Jaehwan’s angel blade, of which he keeps on him at all times. He just hides it when he’s not using it. You hear a few gasps coming from below you.

“I didn’t know she could do that,” Baekhyun says, voice filled with awe.

“Well, she did say she could draw water from any source,” Junmyeon hums, eyes twinkling in amusement.

The two of you continue to clash in the air, moving swiftly to dodge each other’s attacks and gain the upper hand. You can tell your hit from earlier is still affecting him, for his wings are beginning to become strained. You plan a course of attack, grin tugging at your lips as you dive in for one final strike.

Twirling around in mid air, you kick the space between his wings, causing them to lock and for him to go hurtling towards the ground. He lands on his back with a loud thud, weapon falling out of his hand on impact. Before he can reach for it, your blade is at his throat, eyes locking for a moment before smiles pull on both your faces.

In the next moment, cheers erupt from the sidelines as your friends praise your fight, your mates staring at you in awe. Reaching a hand down after withdrawing your blade, you offer it to Jaehwan, of which he takes. Pulling him back onto his feet, he chuckles.

“You always were the better aerial fighter,” he says, to which you thank him.

“You’re not so bad yourself,” you reply, patting him on his shoulder.

“Dude, you just got your ass handed to you, again,” Hyuk laughs as Jaehwan moves to sit beside him on the back deck.

“Yeah, yeah,” he rolls his eyes, “like you could do any better.”

“How’s your back?” Hakyeon asks, eyeing over Jaehwan carefully.

“Stiff,” he grunts, “and a bit sore.”

“I think I can help with that,” Yixing’s soft voice is heard, him leaning down to assess the damage.

You nod to yourself, happy that he’s taking initiative and working on his healing abilities. This is a prime opportunity for him to harness his powers, by helping those injured in training.

“Alright, who’s next?” You say with a smile, turning towards everybody as your sword evaporates before their very eyes.

“Wait, but aren’t all of our powers useless against you?” Jongin questions, brow furrowed as he recalls what you told them when you first met.

“Yes and no,” you reply, and you can see the confusion cross their features. “Under normal circumstances, yes. However, during combative training, I can make it so they actually have an effect on me. Well, the elemental powers, that is. With the help of a few friends.”

Turning your head to the side, you lock gazes with Irene and Seulgi, seeing them nod and smile at you. They immediately stand up, making their way over to where you stand in front of everybody, and taking their place on either side of you.

“All we need to do is mumble a simple incantation that the three of us came up with, and boom, the fight’s a little more fair,” Irene says, placing a hand on her hip. “Though, this only works for training purposes.”

“You never fail to surprise me,” Dylan mumbles under his breath, yet everyone still manages to hear, causing a few to chuckle.

“What’s life without a few surprises,” you giggle, quirking a brow at him. “Now, who wants to go next?”

“I’ll do it,” Minseok says, standing up from the stairs he’s sitting on and making his way towards you with determination in his eyes. “Besides, I wanna know how you created that ice sword, that was cool as hell.”

“All in due time,” you shoot him a wink, noticing Jongdae shift slightly out of the corner of your eyes. “Show me what you’ve got first.”

As Minseok makes his way over to you, both Seulgi and Irene mutter a quick incantation, touching their hands to your shoulders briefly. You feel a jolt of energy pass through your body until you let out a long breath. Nodding to them, they smile at you before returning to their spots on the back deck.

“Here, to make it more fair for your first time, I’ll even stick to just using the power that you’ve gained from me,” you say, taking your spot across from Minseok.

“Sounds good to me,” he replies, getting into a fighting stance.

“It’s up to you whether you want to fight me in your wolf form or not,” you tell him, seeing him nod. “Remember, if you’re not prepared to kill me, you won’t land a hit.”

“Got it,” he nods once more, eyes flashing turquoise as he stares at you.

“Ready when you are,” you mirror his stance, and you can feel the silence settle itself over the crowd of onlookers, waiting with bated breath to see who’ll attack who first.

Turns out, he’s the one to lunge at you first, shifting midair to try and catch you off-guard. However, you’re expecting this, easily ducking underneath his wolf whom leaps over your head.

As soon as his feet are back on the ground, he turns towards you, staring into your eyes with his own, assessing the situation. Your chest fills with pride as you watch him stalk around you, instead of diving straight in for an attack again like he usually does. You can tell he’s grown a lot since you’ve met him, especially in combat.

This time, you take the opportunity to lunge at him, managing to wrap your arm around his neck to use as leverage as you fling yourself onto his back. Moving quickly, you wrap your arms solidly around his neck, tightening the hold your legs have on his sides as you squeeze him. Despite his best attempts to shake you off, he can’t, and he begins to whimper in distress as ice begins to coat his fur.

Your eyes widen slightly, thinking you might have gone too far. The last thing you want to do is severely hurt your mate, your instincts kicking in to relent slightly in your hold.

Grinning since his plan worked, he uses your hesitance to his advantage, able to fling you off of him and pin you to the ground. His eyes stare deeply into your own as frost begins to cover his feet where he pins your arms down. You can feel the frost biting into your skin, a foreign feeling of which you’re not used to, but you can’t help the pride that swirls in your chest at his strategy.

Before he gets the chance to lower his jaw to your neck, signifying the end to the battle, you let out a hiss in pain, face contorting as you let out a small whine in the next second. Almost immediately, he recoils, worry flashing in his eyes as you hear a few of your mates stand up in concern at the side, calling for Minseok to get off of you. A few of your friends chuckle.

In his moment of hesitance, you manage to fling Minseok off of you, rolling over as you pin him beneath you now. Your one arm stretches across his neck as you pin him to the ground, his hind legs kicking in the air behind you uselessly.

He lets out a sigh of defeat, not being able to move with the more pressure your put on his neck, being careful not to choke him. You smirk, using his own trick against hims worked better than you could have ever imagined. Though, you’re surprised it did, considering the amount of times you’ve told them that you don’t injure easily.

Getting off of Minseok, he flips himself back onto his own feet, shaking out his fur in the next second. He looks over at you, eyes shining as you smile at him.

“That was good, you’re finally not letting your emotions control your initial reactions,” you praise. “Though be careful with strategy, your opponent might use it against you.”

He lets out a yip in content, trotting over to the stairs where Jongin, Dylan, and Kyungsoo all stand, somewhat worriedly. You quirk a brow at them.

“What? Did you really think I was hurt?” You giggle at their concern, thanking them silently for their worries, but reassuring them once more that it takes a lot to hurt you. “I just used his own tactic that he used against me against him.”

“That was amazing!” Lisa calls, clapping a few times as Minseok rejoins you all, now dressed in a new pair of clothes.

“I swear you get stronger every time we see you,” Jinyoung comments, arms crossed in front of his chest as a smug grin pulls at his lips.

“You flatter me,” you respond, slightly becoming bashful as they’re all quick add their agreement.

“Alright, who’s next? This is really entertaining to watch,” Jungkook says, looking around at your group and pausing once his eyes scan over your mates.

“Oh, how about me?” Sehun practically jumps up before anyone else has the chance to.

“Alright,” you chuckle, crossing your arms in front of your chest as he practically bounds over to the open field to take the spot opposite you.

“Don’t hold back!” He calls, crouching slightly.

“I wasn’t planning to,” you tell him, letting your arms fall back to your sides to mirror his stance. “Whenever you’re ready.”

You only receive a nod from him in response, him springing into action in the next second. What surprises you the most is that he doesn’t immediately shift into his wolf form like you’re expecting. Instead, he lunges right for you, already anticipating your counter of jumping to the side like you usually do. He manages to whip up a gust of wind which hits your side, causing you to stumble back into him, allow for him to get a hit on your side.

Your eyes widen, amusement twinkling behind your irises as you send a gust of wind his way, successfully pushing him away from you. He even has to raise his arms to brace himself agains the unrelenting wind. He grits his teeth.

Allowing the wind you’ve set against him to aid him, he jumps back, shifting midair to land on his feet. Digging his claws into the ground, he uses the added leverage to propel himself forwards, using his own wind to push him through yours.

He manages to tackle you over, overshooting slightly, so he’s unable to pin you immediately. You manage to get back onto your feet in time to avoid him jumping on top of you, cutting the stream of air you had originally aimed at him.

He yips slightly as you hit him from the side with a gust of wind, enough to have him stumbling on his feet. Using this as leverage, you hit him from the opposite side, causing his to stumble once more. You continue to do this, not giving him a chance to escape the gusts of wind you aim at him until eventually, you jump onto his back, pulling his feet from beneath him, and pin him to the ground.

His ears flatten against his head as he lets out a whine of defeat, silver eyes shining as he stares up at you. You chuckle and pat him on his head as you stand back onto your own two feet.

“That was good!” You grin, hearing him rumble in content before trotting off to the house to go change.

The sparing matches continue back and forth for the majority of the evening. Each of your mates takes a turn fighting you one on one, and for the most part, they do quite well. To say you’re impressed would be an understatement. Now, at least you have some idea as to how they fight independently, and you can work on strengthening their own skills throughout the upcoming weeks. Thanks to your friends observing each battle, even they know what they can help with.

You’re surprised at how well they do against you for the first time, a few more of them, like Junmyeon, Kyungsoo, Dylan, and Chanyeol all being able to pin you down for more than thirty seconds. A few of them still have a long ways to go before they’ve mastered their powers, but from what you’ve seen so far, you couldn’t have asked for better, stronger, mates. Even Yixing’s healing ability is coming along quite nicely.

You can hear their thoughts running through their minds, and you can tell how happy and proud of themselves they are. A fact which you share with them. You can also tell how excited they are to continue training with you.

Throughout the evening, you’ve also noticed how Jongdae has been sulking silently near the corner of the deck. With all the attention you’ve been getting lately, especially today, he’s been feeling sort of neglected. He’s not used to sharing you with this many others, and now, with all of your friends here, it’s gotten even worse for him. He’s not sure how much longer he can take before his wolf snaps.

He knows his jealousy is uncalled for, but he can’t help it. You’re his first, and that’s all that matters. He just wants to spend some alone time with you, and after seeing the others all over you today, he wants nothing more than to take you, and cover you in his own scent, reminding the others who’s mate you are first.

In the back of his mind, he has a feeling that that’s just what he might do. Besides, after tonight, he’s got a lot of pent up energy within himself.

Looking over at Jongdae, you can see the want swirling in his eyes, thoughts reading as clear as day in your mind as they become more and more intense the longer he stares at you. You smirk to yourself, knowing exactly what he’s doing to you. You’re just lucky he knows how to block Luhan out of his mind, something you taught him to do recently.

Eventually, your friends all decide to call it a night, seeing as the sun is beginning to set behind the mountains for the evening. If you’re being honest with yourself, you’re grateful, because all you want to do is get inside and talk with Jongdae before he does something he may regret.

You’re just in the middle of a conversation with Namjoon and Mark when Jongdae comes over to stand beside you. Sensing the hormones coming off of him, the two males share a look between each other, smirking before bidding you a goodnight, knowing looks on both their faces.

You wave to them briefly as you see them disappear into the bunker, turning to Jongdae in the next moment with an eyebrow raise. You can practically feel his emotions radiating off of him as he grabs your arm and leads you inside.

He says nothing as you walk past Jongin, Baekhyun, and Minseok who are all lounging in the living room, even remaining quiet as you pass Dylan, Luhan, Junmyeon, and Kyungsoo in the kitchen. You call brief ‘goodnight’s out to them as they watch you get pulled down the hallway by Jongdae, noses twitching as they smell the hormones radiating off of him. Small growls build in their throats, knowing what he’s about to do, but also knowing that there’s nothing they can do about it.

Reaching your shared room, Jongdae opens the door, quickly pulling you inside. He releases your wrist in the next moment only to close the door behind him, locking it soon after.

Put up a sound barrier, his voice sounds in your head as he stands in front of you, breathing starting to become heavy.

You simply quirk a brow at him, silently doing as you’re told. Once it’s done, you nod to him, crossing your arms slightly in front of your chest.

“Done,” you tell him, seeing gold bleed into the brown of his eyes as he stares you down. “What’s this all about?”

“Simple,” he growls out, pouncing on you and successfully pushing you onto the bed so that he now hovers over you. “I don’t want any of them hearing what I’m about to do to you. Tonight, you’re mine.”

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sheusedtobesassier · 5 years ago

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Day 10,402

Approximately two months ago I sent you a calm and collected message in which I asked seven questions about our break up. I made sure to say, “Write back whenever you feel the urge and if you never experience that urge then wow please don’t reply that’s fine. I know I need to ask, but it’s okay if you do not need to answer.” I really meant that.

You wrote me back six days later, but without answers. A polite message letting me know you were going to respond eventually. That was 2 months, 2 days, 22 hours, and some odd minutes ago. In my heart of hearts, I don’t believe you will ever send me your answers. The process would take some degree of emotional effort and truthfully I think it doesn’t matter enough to you. And that’s really really really really okay. It has to be.

I am going to answer the questions tonight. Not for you to read, but for me to write. I’ve got a glass of decent Pinot Grigio. I just heard some thunder rumbling. I think I read somewhere that there’s a full moon up there tonight. So. That all lines up for expression.

(I’m not going to include the actual questions in this post because goddamn I love to come off as elusive. I have them and you have them. Anybody else’s guess is good enough.)

1. Limit of four because limits help. You were my buddy so instead of being usually on my own I got to be usually with you. You knew how to be a steady force when I needed space to not be one. You usually felt/saw/reacted/thought differently than everybody else in the room, including me. You deliberately accessed me in ways I’d begun to believe nobody could or would ever want to.

2. Limit of four because limits help. It was extremely hard to be next to you when you were making it obvious you wanted so badly to be elsewhere. I didn’t ever laugh as hard as you like to laugh and it didn’t matter to you what I thought about music. It felt like it was always going to suck that I was a white girl. I think the shine wore off, like I think you’d lost a lot of respect for me by the end.

3. I mean. I think a few months into being officially together we were having a difficult conversation about how you were 90% sure you were going to leave camp soon. It came up that we didn’t really believe in the concept of long distance relationships. That neither of us were that kind of person. How ultimately that would be just a slower more painful break up. And like. Idk. Tbh this question is hard for me to answer and I really wish you would. That’d help me out a ton. When people ask me why we broke up I make vague jokes around it and I’m pretty sure I sound stupid as fuck.

4. Okay. Work hit a rough season financially and it put you it a bad spot. We went on a cold air walk one afternoon and you told me you were going to talk seriously to an Illinois buddy about possibly moving in with him. After that we went to the Moyers for dinner and you pulled Bill aside to speak privately. As I was falling asleep that night I asked what you’d talked about and you said, “I told him I am leaving.” I was caught totally off guard because you had not said those words to me yet. The conversation didn’t go further. I attempted to hide that I was crying and you said goodnight and left. Then for about three days you cut yourself off from the world completely. Hid out. Others started asking me what the heck was going on and I didn’t have an answer. I was subtle crying almost constantly lol, so I finally txted you and asked if we needed to talk. We acknowledged that the conversation we were about to have would require bravery. I asked my boss for some time off work and got it. Um. This is when it all gets pretty confusing for me. Looking back now I think at this point you already knew we were going to break up and were even possibly trying to do it haha, but uh. I didn’t realize your mind was made up. Which. To be fair to me, you did not communicate with me how far gone you were. So. I assumed we were still in the midst of a difficult decision making process. Perhaps I should have asked more questions than I did. But. Um. We spent like the next four days together and they were borderline perfect? Which. Lol whatever I don’t want to write about them. I want you to tell me what the fuck was going on there because I think the way you were looking at our last week together was 1000% different from whatever the hell I was perceiving. I was in a honey colored daze. I’m sorry if that time was low key tortuous for you. I truly did not understand what was happening. Um. We took each others clothes off on a Friday evening and afterwards I was laughing and realized you weren’t laughing. You were blank. Staring hard at nothing. I softly asked what was wrong and you said you had to call your friend and give him a final answer. And um. And I had to say the words, “And? You’re upset? Because? You’re going to tell him yes?” Um. All this is a blur. I don’t remember saying much else. I got dressed and began putting on make up, getting ready to go watch a children's musical with friends. You stood at the door watching me a while then left. Um I cried uncontrollably on the drive into town, through the whole damn elementary school production of Annie, and the ride back. When I got home I sent you a txt saying, “If you need things before you go or have things you need to express then please let me know and we can do that.” along with some other sad content. I didn’t hear back so then at midnight I txted you a comforting I love you message and you sent a comforting I love you message back. I fell asleep worrying about you. Mm. And then. Whatever I’m not going to write in detail about it, but you very abruptly left first thing the next morning and from that point on (THOUGH WE’VE NEVER HAD THE FUCKING CONVERSATION) we have been not together. Next question.

5. Okay. I got way too specific on that last one and would like to not make a pattern of that. Sorry. So. For this one. For me. Afterwards I went dark. I went through very ugly withdrawal. I guess I can’t really write about then. Um. I waited for weeks to hear from you and heard nothing. I read everything about our star signs and I listened to the break up playlist I’d been fucked up prepping throughout basically our entire relationship. I watched ALL the Marvel movies and I drank a lot a lot so much I just wanted to drink. I couldn’t fucking sleep ever and when I did I had cruel dreams about you. When we finally did start writing to each other I got really really really really emotionally messy. Paragraphs and then more paragraphs. DRAMATIC TAKE AFTER DRAMATIC TAKE. I didn’t call you and you didn’t call me. But I bothered you and I bothered you and I bothered you. You hardly ever seemed interested in talking to me. You’d give a little and I’d gross myself out at how desperate I was for more. You were polite and you didn’t want to talk to me. Yeah okay that’s the simplest way to describe what afterwards was like for me. I was in love with someone who didn’t want to talk to me.

6. Um. Okay. Honestly. Right now when I think of you there are a few common reactions. I think of the dialogue from Liz Gilbert’s Eat, Pray, Love often. “But I love him.” “So love him.” “But I miss him.” “So miss him. Send him some love and light every time you think about him then drop it.” Usually when you come to mind it’s because of one of hundreds of things that connect to stories I like about us. I’m consistently telling me, “Shut up. Nobody knows how to react when you talk reverently about your ex.” Idk. I use a lot of my 11:11 wishes on your behalf. Like unselfishly. I don’t make them about us getting back together or anything like that. No, just for your happiness/wholeness. I wish for good for you. But maybe now that I’ve typed that here none of them will come true. Sorry.

7. I am not.

#personal

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sgnwooseok · 6 years ago

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hello everyone!!! i am so excited that this place is back uwu hello i am jess and i play this bb wooseok here~ i’m super hype to play him and i can’t wait to start plotting with everyone! wooseok’s about page is HERE and i’ll list some more facts/history and some potential open plots under the cut :D

i have twitter here, but i think i’m mostly going to try to keep plotting to tumblr ims so i don’t get confused haha. please LIKE THIS TO PLOT and i’ll hop into ur ims! or reply to this if u see a plot u want maybeeee? if not we can always brainstorm too!

brief history/run down of wooseok

he is a 96 line and a third year at snu

he’s late bc he did his military service fresh out of high school so he’s a bit older than others in his grade oops (aka if ur 95-97 line and did military service already maybe they met there)

his parents divorced when he was in like 8th grade so it was Peak Devastation and Angsty Times for tween wooseok and he decided he hates his dad

but he ADORES his mom and visits her most weekends

he’s a scholarship student and got in on a full ride on the basis that he keeps his grades up

so he’ll be mostly found studying in various areas

if he’s at a party and he gets bored he’ll probably be on his phone reading his notes lmAO

i called him “haruhi without the host club and cross dressing” so if that helps with the image i have for him HAHAA

uhhh he loves baking but doesn’t cook very often

since he’s in nutrition he always bakes his own snacks and can almost always be found snacking on something homemade that he baked on his own

he’s also always willing to share because he’s Generous™ like that

potential plots? maybe?

anyone who went to the same high school and knew he was a nerd and before his nice Glow-up

maybe an ex .... a Girlfriend in high school .... before he decided his preferences

tbh i would love to have someone who like ... either tries bullies or tease him for being poor but he honestly doesn’t give a crap (quote haruhi’s “ugh, rich people”)

HE NEEDS FRIENDS someone pls just befriend this boy

exes(?) he has one (1) ex who he’s still lowkey half pining over but he’s definitely dated other people~ even if it was in high school or smth

COUSINS??? he’s an only child but pls be cousins w him (especially cousin’s on his dad’s side bc that would be fun if he liked u but he’s torn bc ur from that side of the family and he’s like :/)

cousins from his moms side would be cool too tho

frenemies? friendly competition? u know he’s a nerd but u wanna try to beat him at his own game?

someone he tutors? wooseok is the type of person who doesn’t rly wanna make longterm friends bc he’s like “never gonna see these people again anyway” so

someone who always tries to benefit from his snacks? (this can be multiple people bc wooseok stress bakes LOL)

someone who is vaguely worried about his caffeine addiction and he claims he has it under control “bc this is what he’s studying” but youve never seen someone drink something with three-four espresso shots in it and not shake after like ... is he ok, is he human

HAHA or he’s broke AF rn nd you see him sUffering because he’s suffering from caffeine withdrawals and you take pity on him and buy him a coffee

u are confused as to why he keeps staring at a certain someone and thinks that he’s shy or smth and offer to be his wingman but no, he doesn’t just think he’s hot, that’s his ex-bf

and bc i’m uncreative these are one-liners i stole from the internet that could work w wooseok as a plot

“there’s a harry potter marathon on.” “why would you tell me that when i’m studying for a midterm?!” (wooseok)

“you need to shower/eat/sleep/take care of yourself.” “after studying.” (wooseok) “no. now.”

you’re waiting in my dorm room for my roommate to come back from class and i end up helping you on your lab work/homework

this is the third time you’ve been locked outside of my dorm bc you left your student card/key inside. this is also the third time i’ve had to let you in

i’ve never gotten drunk before and you decide you’ll make me get drunk with you

you were really drunk and i walked you back to your dorm to make sure u were safe

i hate sports so why am i at the _____ game? you want to find out

we have the same early 9am class and you fall asleep on me so i wrote notes for you (so you want to either pay him back or get him to always write notes for u or smth)

all of our friends are drunk, why am i even at this party?

i caved and ordered pizza and so did you and we’re both waiting outside of the avenue for our respective delivery guys

we’re studying in the library and there are two people very obviously fucking behind the shelf next to us, what the fuck are we supposed to do?

you (a sports player) hit me in the head with your (sports) ball and now we’re headed to the infirmary because i think there’s two of you

wow this got super long so thank u if ur still reading this djkfbksdjbf but yeah anyways hmu to plot pls and ty and if none of these fit ur muse we can always brainstorm ofc!!

edit: i added some random prompts :D

#( ooc. )

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gimmesumsuga · 7 years ago

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Concealed Weapon (M)

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Word count: 10K (approx)

Warnings: Smut. Smutty smut smut. Unsafe handling of weapons. Dirty talk. Unprotected sex. Bondage. Rough sex. Multiple orgasms. Oral sex (male receiving).

Summary: Jungkook turns out not to be quite who you thought he was, and your reaction takes you both by surprise.

Happy belated Birthday @yminie ! I hope you survive! <3 <3

This is kinda PWP, which is why I chose to keep the super cheesy porno title I first came up with haha (plus, I couldn’t actually think of anything better - so sue me). Also, this is the first moodboard I’ve ever made, so please don’t repost or use without credit.

“Home by seven my ass…” you mutter darkly under your breath as your hands dwell somewhere beneath a layer of lemon-scented suds, a scouring pad clenched in fist.

You'd intended leave the dishes until after having eaten tonight, but seeing as your dinner companion is still yet to show after more than half an hour of you being sat at the table like an idiot, waiting, you figured you'd make a start. Anger is great for removing stubborn baked on bread crumbs from an oven tray, apparently; by the time you're done pretending its surface is your husband's face and stashed it on the drying rack you've never seen it look cleaner.

You wish you could pretend this was the first time he's come home later than intended. It's an occupational hazard you guess; as one of the heads of IT tech support for all of the healthcare providers in the local province it's up to him to make sure every system is running seamlessly no matter the time of day. If a piece of software goes down it's not just the clinicians who suffer - it's the patient's blood results or x-ray reports they can't gain access to who suffer as well.

So maybe you shouldn't be so mad - maybe you should be glad to have a husband so hard-working and committed to his job that he's willing to stay late more often than not. As you pick at little pieces of the beef you'd so painstakingly roasted, long since gone cold, this is what you so avidly try to convince yourself of, but it doesn't really make you feel any better. It doesn't change the reality of you being stood all alone at your kitchen counter with tears threatening in your eyes, all dressed up with nowhere to go.

The sound of keys turning in the front door lock has your ears pricking to attention and your back straightening as you abandon your leftovers in favour of watching the entranceway to the hall. The smouldering embers of annoyance that'd been threatening to dwindle away into sadness come roaring back into life with his impending arrival, and as soon as you hear your husband cross the threshold you're hollering his name, nostrils flared.

“Jeon Jungkook!” His heavy exhale reaches your ears even from several metres away; tired and weary. You know he’ll be worn out after work, and he’s more than likely been dreading having this fight with you all the way home, but your famously short temper won’t let you show him an inch of mercy. Not yet, anyway. “What the hell kinda time do you call this?!”

It’s odd - usually Jungkook would be rushing in by now, a pink tinge to his cheeks and an apology on his lips - but tonight he appears to be taking his time. There’s the sound of his keys clinking against one another as they’re placed on the side and then the heavy tread of his boots coming down the hall that follows, so slow and steady that it only serves to infuriate you all the more. Let him drag this out if he wants; all he’s doing is prolonging the length of the cold shoulder he’ll be receiving later on.

“You could’ve at least called,” you carry on, rounding the kitchen island with one hand on your hip, waiting for him to emerge, “I wouldn’t have bothered busting my ass if I’d have known you - oh my god!”

Hands flying upward to cover your gasping mouth, your wide eyes run rapidly up and down the sorry state of a man who enters your kitchen with his busted lip slanted into a wry smile. It’s not very often you’re at a loss for words and yet here you are, speechless, all anger eradicated by the sight of your husband’s naturally handsome face so marred with cuts and bruises.

“Sorry baby,” he apologises as he comes to a standstill in front of you, voice soft. There’s blood on the usually pristine white collar of his shirt - Jungkook always prides himself in keeping his clothes crisp and sharp - and as your body begins to tremble he touches the pad of his thumb against where his smile has re-opened the split at the corner of his full bottom lip, dabbing it with his tongue.

“What happened?!” You throw yourself into the arms that Jungkook manages to open just in time to receive you, and when he ‘oofs’ in discomfort as you hit his chest you cringe, peeling yourself back just enough to look up at him past your eyelashes. They’re wet, glistening with tears, and your husband smiles affectionately down at you as he wipes them away with his fingertips. You hadn’t even realised you were crying though it doesn’t exactly surprise to find that you are; who wouldn’t when confronted with the sight of a loved one so battered and bruised?

“Some assholes got the jump on me on the way home,” he shrugs, behaving far more casually than you would ever expect of someone who’s apparently just been mugged, “Took my wallet… my phone. It could’ve been worse.”

“It could’ve been worse?!” you repeat incredulously, stepping back but allowing him to keep the gentle grip he has on both of your hands, large palms wrapped around your tiny, angry fists.

“I’m home in one piece, aren’t I?”

“Barely!” You really should stop shrieking sometime soon; it’s not as though it’ll do any good. It won’t fix the torn sleeve of his expensive suit jacket, nor halt the deepening in colour of the bruise that lays across his cheekbone, and Jungkook keeps on cringing as though you’re assaulting his eardrums every time your voice climbs another octave.

“Sorry,” you apologise embarrassedly, withdrawing a hand from one of his and using it to stem any further tears from falling and leaving smudges of mascara behind, “Sorry. Are you-” You sigh, brushing your palm over the lapel of his jacket to wipe away the white specs of dust sprinkled across it. “-Are you ok?”

“I’ll live,” he assures you, once more taking a hold of your hand to raise it to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss onto your palm. You know he will, yet that knowledge doesn’t stop you frowning at every single mark your eyes pass over; the gash across his eyebrow from which blood has ran and dried, now crusted and flaking away, or the purple bruising of broken blood vessels that decorates the sharp angle of his jaw.

And these are only the injuries you can actually see. Judging by the way Jungkook tenses when you wrap your arms around him you can only presume there must be more under the rumpled cotton of his shirt.

“Fucking assholes,” you mutter as you press your cheek to his chest, planting a kiss along the way. Jungkook is so soft, so kind, so absolutely good - right down to his bones - how could anyone ever want to hurt him? Ok, so maybe before you saw the state he was in you might’ve wanted to give him a swift kick in the shins, but now? Now the only blood you’re out for belongs to whomever it was who thought they could get away with hurting the love of your life.

Jungkook’s palm slips downward from the back of your neck into the curve at the bottom of your spine, his soft lips pressing to the top of your head.

“You called the police, right?” Jungkook cocks one dark eyebrow at you when you look up, amused.

“And how exactly would I have gone about doing that?” he teases, a playful twinkle in his eye. Your mouth opens as though to argue but then promptly closes again when you realise how valid a point he’s made.

“Well, you should now,” you persist, slipping out of his embrace to cross over into your living room and grab a hold of the phone that sits atop of your coffee table, brandishing it at Jungkook when he walks through the doorway after you, shrugging off his jacket. He throws it onto the back of the sofa and lets you press the handset into his hand before discarding that a moment later, too, sighing.

“There’s really no point,” he tells you with a shake of his head, his dishevelled bangs sticking up at odd angles when he runs his hand through them. His knuckles are grazed too, you notice, and you feel a grim sense of satisfaction come over you on realising that he must’ve at least gotten one good punch in during whatever fumble occured. You hope it hurt. “I barely saw anything; one guy grabbed me from behind and the other had.some kind of ski mask on or something.”

“But what if there was CCTV?” you persist, stepping towards him but stopping when you see a look of annoyance fleet over Jungkook’s face. He looks away from you, his eyebrows furrowing as he places his fists on his hips, shifting his weight.

“Look-” He meets your eyes, and when he sees the way you’re worrying your bottom lip it’s as though he makes a conscious effort to soften his expression. “-All I want right now - more than anything - is a long, hot shower.” Jungkook closes the gap between the two of you, so close that your chests are almost touching, yet his hands remain at his sides as he looks down at you. “I want to shower, I want to eat. I want to snuggle up with the woman I love-” Jungkook returns the little smile that appears on your face, his head tilting slightly to the side, “-And forget all about it.”

How is it that after two long years of matrimony Jungkook can still have such an effect on your heart rate by his proximity alone? Just by standing in front of you - close enough to catch the lingering scent of his aftershave that you know so well - he has you feeling a little weak at the knees; a little breathless as you look up into the darkest chocolate of his eyes.

“Is that ok?” he checks when you neglect to reply, lifting a hand to brush gently against your cheek, voice soft.

“I suppose so,” you force out, recovering enough to let a little bit of snark enter your tone. Jungkook’s already smiling lips part as it grows, flashing his adorably imperfect row of front teeth, eyes crinkling at the sides. “Go on, you stink.” Grinning playfully, you twist your head enough to noisily kiss his palm where it’d been resting on your cheek before stepping away and walking past him. “Don’t blame me if your dinner tastes like microwave.”

You don’t expect the hand that suddenly grabs a hold of yours, nor for Jungkook to suddenly pull you back into his arms and seize a hold of your lips with his own, squeaking your surprise into the kiss and making your husband chuckle at how quickly and effortlessly you melt into his embrace. He kisses you as though it’d been the only thought to occupy his mind all day, one hand in the small of your back and the other still clutching yours, the thick band of metal encircling his ring finger brushing your skin as they lock together, holding tight.

A rolling press of his tongue to your lips is enough for you to grant him access to your mouth, wet muscle meeting in the middle before he chases after it when you pull back, inviting him in. Jungkook groans throatily when you gently tug on his bottom lip with your teeth, forgetting all about the split to the pillow soft flesh until the next time his mouth presses to yours and you feel it there, the drying blood making it feel slightly tacky against your own.

Running his tongue against the inside of his teeth, Jungkook relinquishes you from his grasp, smirking at the way you wobble a little on losing the support of his firm body pressed to yours.

“Tastes pretty good to me.” He grins wolfishly, making sure to cock one eyebrow at you before turning on his heels and heading for your bedroom, leaving you to recover with a flushed red face and one hand pressed to the new-found ache in your lower abdomen.

“God damn it Jungkook,” you murmur to yourself as you will your body to stop acting like some pre-teen girl when confronted with the attentions of the captain of the football team. It’s just embarrassing, especially when less than five minutes ago you were supposedly hopping mad. So much for that.

You’re just putting Jungkook’s dinner into the microwave and punching in the time for it to cook when all over a sudden another sound catches your attention over the shrill beep of the buttons which you press. It’s an unfamiliar tune but still recognisable enough for you to realise that it must be coming from a cell phone, and it’s with a frown of confusion that you abandon Jungkook’s meal to venture back into the living room, looking around.

It’s definitely not yours - you have a very bad habit of leaving it on silent 24/7 and repeatedly missing your husband’s calls - but then whose else’s could it be? The muggers had taken his, he’d said, and yet as you approach the ruined suit jacket that he’d so carelessly flung over the back of the sofa the ringing is most definitely getting louder.

It cuts off before you can figure out its exact location but you carry on patting down his jacket anyway, certain that whatever was ringing must be tucked away somewhere inside, and when you reach into the soft inner breast pocket your fingers close around the solid rectangular form of a cell phone that you don’t seem to recognise once its laid flat in your palm, staring up at you.

What is going on? You’ve never seen Jungkook carrying this sort of phone before; for one thing it’s far too low-tech for anything he’d usually be caught dead with. It doesn’t even seem to have a proper camera on it, for heaven’s sake.

Why would he lie? Why would he have some secret, ancient phone stashed away? You can’t help but jump to the worst conclusion as it goes off again, the screen illuminating to show one missed call and the text message that has just come through, and as you attempt to figure out how to unlock it your heart begins to race with anxiety, eyes darting nervously towards the corridor down which your bedroom lies.

Is he having some sort of affair? This is the question that remains at the forefront of your mind as you try various different combinations of numbers to try and guess his six digit passcode, not even pausing to think of how much an invasion of his privacy your husband might see this as. You’d never dream of going through his phone usually, but this isn’t his - not really. Perhaps it should reassure you that the code that finally works is the same digits as your birthday, yet the nauseating rolling of your stomach only continues as you open up his messages to find one singular text waiting under the initials of ‘NJ’ and nothing more.

Fingers shaking, you open the message and read.

“You better get your shit together, JK. Another fuck up like tonight and they’ll be pulling you out of the river next time. Don’t let me down.”

Pulling him out of the what? What the hell does that mean?

Fumbling, you lock the phone and scramble to slip it back into the pocket you retrieved it from with hands that are trembling even more severely than before, convinced that you’ve already seen too much.

What the hell has Jungkook gotten himself mixed up in?

Whatever it is it sounds really, really bad - the illegal kind of bad - and suddenly you’re no longer so sure that the injuries Jungkook sustained earlier tonight were really the product of two simple muggers. No, this sounds far more sinister, but as damning as this evidence is you’ve no idea how to even begin to comprehend that the man that you love - as silly and sweet and goofy as he is - might ever be involved with someone who could send a message so threatening as that. You’ve met Jungkook’s friends; they’re all as daft as he is!

Cool metal awaits the brush of your fingers when you slot his phone back into its rightful place, and despite how you may tell yourself not to pry any further you’re unable to shake the curiosity that has you fishing out what appears to be a very small bunch of keys from within the silky black pocket.

It only takes a split second of peering down at them spread out along your palm for your to make the connection to the lock with which you know they must belong. Hurried footsteps and shallow breaths lead you directly to Jungkook’s ‘gaming room’ and the desk on which his custom built PC tower sits neatly alongside a 27-inch screen.

The screen remains black and the CPU’s many cooling fans silent, though you know they won’t remain so for very long. It’s a mutual agreement of yours and your husbands to allow each other an hour or so a night to indulge in whichever solo hobbies you deem necessary for maintaining your sanity before settling down to spend the rest of the evening together, whether that be curled in front of the tv or tangled up in bed.

It’s the thought of such times that causes you to hesitate with the key already halfway into the lock, down on bended knee. What happens if you find something in there that you’d rather not see? What if whatever it is puts an end to this lovely little life you’ve built?

You bite your lip, frowning hard at the trembling pincer grip in which you hold the key. Part of you wants to turn back and try to erase all memory of this from your mind but you know that that’d be an impossibility. If you don’t look now you’ll always be wondering, worrying - wracked with suspicion every time your husband leaves your side. No, best to confront it now and deal with the cards that you’re dealt as soon as they reach your hand.

Whatever it is, whatever you’ve faced, you and Jungkook have always gotten through it before.

You take a deep breath as though to brace yourself as you slide in the key the rest of the way and turn it smartly to the right. Opening up the drawer the first thing you see is a neat stack of plastic folders in a variety of colours, and when you take a peek inside the uppermost one it’s full of papers detailing acronyms and figures of which you have no understanding. They’re confusing but look innocent enough, and as you start to remove one folder after the other you dare to feel a little more hopeful than you did before.

You’ve probably gotten yourself all worked up over nothing; there’s got to be a reasonable explanation for that phone and the text that followed, a reason for Jungkook to have all these papers locked away from sight. You shake your head at yourself as you appear to be coming to the bottom of the pile; you should’ve known better than to doubt him. What exactly were you expecting? Pictures of some secret family? Drugs? Maybe even some -

Brass knuckles?

Your stomach drops so violently it feels almost as though it’s fallen out when you see the golden device sat at the bottom of the drawer, the curved metal specially shaped to encase the wearers knuckles and allow them to deliver more lethal a blow to the victim of their choosing.

These can’t belong to Jungkook, surely? Not your gentle husband? He won’t even kill a spider, nevermind don something like… like those. With a sense of morbid curiosity you reach out and lift them from the drawer, turning them over and shivering at how weighty such a weapon feels rested in your palm, and it’s only then that you realise that there’s a matching set laid there too - one for each hand.

“Jesus christ,” you mutter under your breath, and as you lift that one out too you become aware of a fault in otherwise smooth wooden bottom of the drawer. Placing the brass knuckles aside, your relentlessly curious nature has you poking, prodding and jiggling at what appears to be some kind of false bottom. You finally manage to open it up by pressing it downward and then sliding the thin wooden barrier backward and underneath the other half of the panel, gasping involuntarily when you see what lies beneath.

A gun.

A real gun; matte metal grey and chillingly cold to the touch when you run your fingertips gingerly along its barrel, purposefully avoiding the trigger. It strikes you as odd how threatening an inanimate object can look even when lacking someone to wield it, and it’s with a swallow of trepidation that you very gently lift the pistol from its secret compartment to hold it in two hands.

Has Jungkook really ever used something like this?

Unwanted images begin to plague your racing mind as you inspect the makings of it, turning it about in your grip. You see Jungkook stood with gun in hand, his arm outstretched to press the barrel to the temple of some faceless man with whom he regards without a trace of mercy, his expression unfeeling and cold, and the image of it sends a chill right down your spine. This can’t be your husband; not this cruel figure that your imagination has so conjured up.

There must be something else. Some other reason for him to have this - some other reason for him to have kept it all hidden. If you ask him… if you confront him, surely he’ll have -

One strong hand closes firmly around both your wrists, so rough and so sudden you'd very nearly have let the gun fall to the floor if it weren't already being wrenched away from you, out of the reach of your inexperienced hands. You look up sharply at the unexpected touch, your mouth falling open with the sharp inhale you take, and it's Jungkook's face you see staring back down at you, expression as hard and stern as you'd pictured it to be with a gun in hand.

“Jungko-" you start but he cuts you off, tightening his grip around your wrists. It's testament to how large his hands are that his fingers quite comfortably encircle both, pinning them together.

“What the fuck do you think you're doing?” he questions angrily, brows furrowing even further, shower wet hair dangling in front of his eyes. Your husband must've just this moment stepped out of the bathroom; not even yet dressed, a towel knotted low around his hips and droplets of water clinging to the sculpted planes of his chest.

Purple bruising along his ribs aside, it'd be all too easy let yourself become completely distracted by Jungkook's mouth-watering appearance if it weren't for the gun that hangs by his side. It’s pointed firmly at the floor, steady in his hand, and you’re relieved to see that his index finger is resting well away from the trigger.

You grope for some sort of response, your pulse thudding deafeningly in your ears at having been caught in the act, and when you fail to even try to defend yourself Jungkook huffs an exhale, infuriated.

“I should've known you'd come snooping around in here one day.” Keeping your wrists firmly locked, Jungkook pulls open the top drawer to his desk and rummages for something, gun still in hand. “Too damn curious for your own good,” he adds, grumbling under his breath, and you're just about to start protesting at how unjust it is right now for him to be mad at you when the sight of him pulling a long black strip of plastic from the drawer totally derails your train of thought.

“What are you doing?” you ask, a fringe of panic lacing your voice as he places the gun down on the table with a satisfying ‘thunk’ of wood against metal and then loops what you now recognise as a cable tie around the underside of your wrists, just above where his other hand is squeezing them together.

“Trying to make sure you don't go running off before you hear me out,” he informs you matter-of-factly, and it's with alarming swiftness that Jungkook manages to secure your wrists together, the strip of plastic pulled not quite so tight as to cut into your flesh but enough to remind you that it's there, unyielding against your skin. “Besides, you clearly need some help keeping your hands to yourself.”

He releases your hands and they fall, fixed, to knock against your thighs as you look up at him in trepidation. Jungkook stares right back, unblinking, and you wish you weren't knelt so vulnerably like this on your knees, though his expression - although visibly annoyed - looks neither threatening or unkind.

Before now it's always been a bit of a running joke amongst your mutual friends that you're the one who wears the trousers in your marriage. You're marginally older than Jungkook and have always been a bit more ballsy; a bit more outspoken in circumstances in which your husband would be more inclined to let things go and keep the peace. Even-tempered, patient and perhaps a little bit of a perfectionist, Jungkook has always happily followed your lead - until now.

“I never wanted you involved in any of this,” he tells you wearily, momentarily releasing you from his gaze to turn and take the gun from the table with a shake of his head.

“Involved in any of what?!” You suddenly seem to find your tongue again, vulnerable or not, and as you speak the volume of your voice seems to climb, near hysterical. “The hell are you doing with a gun, Jungkook?! Who's NJ?!” Jungkook pauses at your outburst, apparently changing his mind about putting the gun away and choosing to slam the drawer shut instead, rounding on you with a scowl.

“It's nothing that concerns you.” Incensed, you glower right back up at him, pretending not to notice the way a vein in his neck bulges when he clenches his jaw.

“It is if it means you're coming home all battered and bruised,” you insist vehemently, bunching your fingers into angry little fists whilst you're still able to feel them, “You were supposed to be working late! Where were you?”

Jungkook doesn’t answer right away but he does laugh, smirking as he reaches out and grabs you by the arm to pull your feet. Defiant, you tilt your chin up. You won't be intimidated; whether he's been keeping secrets or not Jungkook is still your husband, and you know he'd never hurt you.

“So fiesty,” Jungkook admires, smiling growing as he tilts his head, looking down at you from his greater height, “Even when you're so obviously at a disadvantage.”

You wish you were oblivious to the heat you can feel radiating off of Jungkook's naked chest as you stand toe to toe but your body if refusing to play ignorant, heart pounding rapidly against the inside of your ribcage and your mouth bone dry.

“I was at work.”

“Yeah, ok,” you scoff disbelievingly, rolling your eyes toward to the ceiling until Jungkook grabs a hold firm of your chin and pulls your attention back to him with a sharp snap of your name.

“Did you really think a little desk job could've bought us this house?” Jungkook asks, his thumb and forefinger still holding you in place, dark eyes flicking between your own, “That rock on your finger?” You jump as the cold metal of Jungkook’s gun taps against your ring finger, flinching and drawing your clasped hands up to your chest with a deep flush filling your cheeks.

Why are there butterflies swirling frantically within your stomach at the cocky little flick of your husband's eyebrow as he releases your chin? You're supposed to feel angry - betrayed - not like... this. Not like your insides are slowly filling with molten heat; desire pooling heavy in your pelvis.

“Th-then what is it?” Your voice is halting, catching in your throat, and when Jungkook releases you to press two fingers to your sternum and walk you backwards with a wicked gleam in his eyes you're swallowing nervously, yelping in surprise when you're suddenly pushed into the soft leather gaming chair in which your husband spends so many of his evenings. Unable to brace your landing with your hands your fall is somewhat ungainly; the floaty fabric of your skirt settling somewhere halfway up your thighs to expose more skin to Jungkook’s slowly roving eyes.

He leans forward over you, bracing his weight on the arms of the chair that enclose you on either side, and when he speaks he’s so close that you can smell the peppermint of his breath as it blows upon your face.

“Are you sure you want to know?” he asks quietly, and you nod. He’s right, you really are too curious for your own good.

With a heavy sigh of resignation, Jungkook straightens up and runs a hand through his damp hair, bicep flexing.

“I work for an organisation called BTS.” BTS… that’s one of the acronyms you remember seeing amongst the paperwork you’d just been scouring through, printed neatly alongside a multitude of dollar signs and zeroes. “Namjoon - NJ - is it’s leader.”

Slowly, you nod. Organised crime, then, you’re guessing; that’s the business to which your husband belongs. How could he have managed to keep this from you for so long? You’ve known each other since your late teens and yet this is the first time he’s ever come home looking like this - the first sign you’ve ever had. Maybe he’s not in so deep as you think. Maybe it’s not as bad as all that. Maybe he’s just their... their accountant or something…

“What do you actually… do?” you persist, though you’re not entirely sure you want to know. Jungkook’s lip curls into a smirk once more as he glances down to the gun that hangs at his side, and before your widening eyes he lifts it till it’s pointed straight at you, mechanism clicking as he disengages the safety, index finger hovering over the trigger.

You heart rate skyrockets the moment it’s turned on you, eyes fixed fixed on the open, gaping mouth of the barrel staring back. It feels as though the organ is in your throat and choking you, thumping hard, blood rushing and roaring in your ears until your husband next speaks, deadly soft.

“What do you think?”

There can be no doubt any longer. Up until this point you’ve been trying to convince yourself that perhaps you’re wrong, perhaps this is all some mistake or you’re just overreacting - over-reaching to draw the most dramatic of conclusions - but no. Every presumption you’ve jumped to appears to be coming true, and now you can't seem to stop wondering about just how many lives Jungkook must have ended with the gun that’s now so steadily aimed at you.

You should be livid at having been lied to for so long, and you should probably be afraid, too, given the circumstances in which you’ve found yourself - and yet you’re not. Maybe in the deep recesses of your mind you have those thoughts, maybe, but not right now; right now the singular, most overwhelming feeling you’re aware of is desire. Desire, lust, want, and need.

You've never seen him look like this before; so powerful, so in control. The dominant aura Jungkook’s exuding has you feeling all hot and bothered under the thin fabric of your clothes, and when he tilts his chin downward to inspect the flush across your chest you can't help but clench your thighs together to quell the aching where they meet, spurred on by his watchful, almond eyes.

“Why lie to me?” Your voice comes out slightly breathless, husky, though if Jungkook notices it he doesn't say so. He holds the gun in place for a second or two longer before letting it drop again to his side with a shake of his head. There's another click as the safety goes back on and a loud, shuddering exhale that passes your lips as he finally puts the thing down.

“It was the only way I could try to keep you safe,” he answers a moment later, the angry expression he's been wearing softening slightly as he turns back to you, one hand still poised upon the desk, “What do you think they'd do if they got their hands on you, if it meant they were able to get to me?" Jungkook gestures to his own face as an example, furrowing his eyebrows. “This is nothing.”

Swallowing, your eyes travel from mark to mark, injury to injury; the gash to the bridge of his nose down to the black cherry bruising of the hip bone peeking out above his towel. Every inch of him, battered or not, is still just as pleasing to your eye - still just as tempting to touch if only you were able - and so busy are you inspecting his finely honed physique that you're barely even aware of the silence that's settled between the two of you until Jungkook lets out a heavy exhale, mistaking your preoccupation for something else.

“It's ok… if you want me to leave.” You look up, blindsided by the pained expression your husband is wearing now - the worry lines evident in his brow. “I'll understand.” He reaches into the drawer again to pull out a switchblade this time, flicking free a small, silver knife as he approaches you and draws your hands away from your chest, cradling them in one of his own. “I never wanted to hurt you.”

“- Don't!” you exclaim quickly when he slips the blade between the cable tie and the flesh of your wrist, meaning to cut you free, and at your shout Jungkook comes to a sudden halt, his gaze lifting to look up into your eyes where he's bent over you, leaning close. “I don't want you to leave.” Your throat feels tight with nerves as you bring your conjoined hands, knife and all, towards the base of Jungkook's throat to brush your fingertips along the smooth skin there, digits trembling.

He's still a little damp after his shower - his gorgeous, caramel skin soft and smooth to touch - and you lick your lips with the want to lap up the little dew drops that remain clinging onto his broad chest.

Your husband utters your name under his breath, confused by the hunger in your restless eyes as they trail over the length of him.

“Don't go,” you tell him thickly, and unbeknown to you your pupils expand at the moment you look up and meet his gaze. “Don't let me free.” You bite your bottom lip as Jungkook withdraws the knife, and slowly he begins to understand what it is that has you watching so eagerly as he flips the blade away. “Not yet.”

He observes the way you press your thighs together as he stands to full height, a smile pulling at his lips when he comes to realise the full extent of how aroused you are; the heaviness of your eyelids as you gaze lustfully up at him, the shuddering rise and fall of your chest. This is not the reaction that he'd expected, yet he wonders how he hadn't noticed it before.

“It almost seems like you're enjoying this,” Jungkook muses, beginning to pace around the chair in which you're sat. Your hands are clammy clasped together against your chest, but the sudden, subtle shift to the look in Jungkook's eyes has you tingling all over with excitement in anticipation of what you're hoping is yet to come.

You turn your head so as to not lose his gorgeous visage from your sight as he circles you, swivelling the chair until Jungkook grabs a hold of the back of it to jerk it to a halt, barking,

“Eyes straight ahead.”

Back straight and your eyes wide open, you stare at the wall opposite as instructed whilst your heart gallops at the feel of him stood behind you. Goosebumps rise across your shoulders as Jungkook leans in, not touching you save the brush of soft lips to the curve of your ear.

“Do you like it when I'm bad, baby?” he questions teasingly, blunt teeth nipping at your earlobe, “You like a little bit of danger?”

“M-maybe,” you allow yourself to admit, though there's no maybe about it. Beneath your skirt your underwear is starting to feel warm and damp, and the brief passing of Jungkook's hand around your throat as he nuzzles into your hair, inhaling, does nothing to dampen the growing flames of arousal which are unfurling deep in your insides.

“You've been a naughty girl, poking your nose in where it doesn't belong,” Jungkook scolds as he releases you, tongue tutting against his teeth at the little whimper you fail to withhold. You open up your eyes that'd flopped closed and pick up your head from where it'd fallen back just in time to see your husband come to a stop right before you, and though the heat within his gaze is familiar enough from all the many, many times such as these that've come to pass before, you've never seen him look quite like this.

So dark. So seductive.

“I think you ought to make it up to me.” Jungkook's eyes flick southward and yours follow, down to where the front of his towel is draping awkwardly over the semi-erection concealed beneath. When he begins to untuck the knot that's tied around his hips - his eyes locked on yours - your mouth is quick to water for whatever it may be that he has in store, and as his towel drops to the floor, crumpled messily at his feet, your core starts to drip equally as warm and wet.

You swear you're not a shallow woman, but only an idiot would think to deny how easy your husband is on the eyes. Tall and broad, Jungkook's lithe torso tapers from muscular shoulders into the inexplicably narrow waist you so love to wrap your arms around, and all of him is golden, flawlessly smooth save the dark thatch of neatly trimmed hair nestled around the base of that which currently holds your rapt attention. His cock, half-hard and currently held by one Jungkook's well-practised hands is already leaking the clear, serous fluid that belies his arousal as it's stroked, the muscles of his thighs flexing as he approaches where you're sat.

“Open up that pretty mouth, baby,” Jungkook purrs, pointing it towards your lips, “Show me what a good girl you can be.”

You'd never anticipated before tonight that you would ever be so receptive to the idea of your husband being the one to call the shots between the sheets. Sure, it's something you’ve daydreamed about every now and then, maybe, but with how quiet and obliging Jungkook has always been in the bedroom before now - so solely focused on your pleasure rather than his own - you'd convinced yourself it would likely never happen.

Now that it is, and now that Jungkook's cocking one of his thick, dark eyebrows down at you in expectation, it feels like a dream come true. Eagerly, you shuffle forward on his chair, tied wrists rested on your lap, and obligingly open your mouth nice and wide, sticking out your tongue for good measure.

“That's it,” he mumbles quietly, no longer watching you but focusing instead on guiding his cock into your open, waiting mouth and licking his lips as the pink, weeping tip brushes your tongue. The weight of it is so satisfying, the musky taste one you know and love, and it's with a groan of delight that you finally seal your lips around him and begin to suckle sweetly at its sensitive head, pleased when you hear Jungkook's answering moan.

“Suck baby.” His encouragements are soft but as just as insistent as the firm hand that makes its way into your hair whilst you busy yourself tracing his frenulum with the tip of your tongue, your eyes flopping closed. He neither pulls nor tugs, simply caresses your scalp as you diligently set to work easing him deeper into your mouth - perhaps digging his blunt nails into the roots on the odd occasion that he looks down and is overcome by the sight of your lips stretched so tightly around his girth.

“Come on, pretty girl, I know you can take some more,” Jungkook hums, a little breathless, and you feel your cheeks fill with warmth at the way he addresses you so fondly, “You're so good at sucking my cock. My perfect little slut.” You feel a hand on your aching jaw, supporting it as you slide your mouth back and forth along his length, sucking and slurping as you go.

You're determined to take him all, determined to show your husband what a good, dutiful wife you can be - snooping aside - and after a few more strokes and a conscious effort to relax your throat, you're face first amongst his pubic hair and resisting the urge to gag when his cock twitches on your tongue.

You hear Jungkook groan with satisfaction above you, and when you peel open your eyes to gaze up you're delighted to see nothing but the sharp angle of his jaw from below, his head lolling back as he savours the feeling of being stuffed so far down your throat.

“You’re doing so well,” he says breathlessly as his chin tips forward again, meeting your watering eyes he looks down, “Knew you could be a good girl for me.” Still holding onto your jaw, Jungkook rocks his hips back to withdraw his length almost all the way to the tip before sliding it all the way inside, slow and steady, resting there sheathed fully inside before doing it again and again, gradually gaining speed. “Gonna let me fuck your mouth, aren't you, baby?”

Mouth full and saliva leaking from the corners of your mouth, you nod, and Jungkook flashes you a cocky, satisfied smile.

As your husband uses and abuses the hollow vacuum of your eager mouth in the minutes that follow, your desire for him only continues to grow. Save the brief seconds in which you're forced to close your eyes when you gag, you spend every other moment you can greedily watching the man come apart; every twitch of his toned stomach and every tick of his jaw making your dipping core begin to pulse with need.

So fierce is the ache between your legs that your helpless hands soon grow restless in your lap. They search out the hem of your skirt and slide underneath it, clumsily attempting to provide yourself some much needed relief as best you can with your wrists pinned together as they are. It’s difficult, but by spreading your legs as wide as you can you just about rub the heel of your hands between them, wantonly moaning around Jungkook’s cock at every slightest bit of friction you manage to press against your lace-covered clit.

The rocking of your husband’s hips slows on registering the needful pitch of your moans, turning soft and shallow, willing to let catch your breath, at least, if not yet quite ready to fully withdraw himself from the warm, wet utopia that lies behind your lips.

“You know,” he muses as he lets the slick, swollen head of his cock sit stationary at the entrance of your mouth, watching with a heavy heaving chest as your tongue laves it all around, tracing every ridge and mapping out every vein before swiping up along his frenulum to dip shallowly inside his slit. “If you ask nicely enough, I might just give you a hand.” Opening up your eyes, you see Jungkook’s dark ones glance down past where you’re joined to the desperate shifting of your bound hands against your mound.

“I might even let you have this big, fat cock, if you say please.”

Your core contracts, hard, as if to express its enthusiasm at the prospect, and it’s with a wet slurp and wide, hopeful eyes that you you slip your mouth off of his length to beseech with neither shame nor eloquence,

“Please, god, touch me, fuck me. Whatever you want - anything.” You’re breathless, panting with want, and you know Jungkook’s relishing in just how desperate you appear - you can tell by the slanted smile that spreads across his handsome face - but you’re so far gone at this point that you really don’t care about any dignity that you may have lost. He can be an asshole if he wants, as long as he’s balls deep inside of you.

“I think you can do a little better than that, baby,” he presses, holding your eye contact as he sinks into a deep squat before you, golden thighs so thick that they look almost fit to burst, “I’ve heard an awful lot of begging in my time; it’ll take a lot to convince me.”

God, that really shouldn’t turn you on.

Jungkook hooks his thumbs under the sides of your underwear and you rock onto your tiptoes where your feet are planted on the floor in order to lift your hips and enable him to drag them off, pulling you towards him in the process, and it’s there, slouched deep in the leather of his chair, that you begin to beg and plead for mercy.

He smiles all the way through your whimpers and whines, relishing in the way you shudder with every light brush of his fingertips as he slowly peels you from your clothes - careful not to touch you too much. Your skirt goes first and then your little white ankle socks, his teeth nipping a bite into the meat of your calf as he rolls them off, and then because the cable tie encircling your wrists make it impossible to remove Jungkook improvises, hitching your vest top up above your breasts and then grabbing a hold of your hands, placing them on top of your head.

You’re still whimpering his name when Jungkook stands back to admire the view, taking his time to slowly stroke one large, vascular hand back and forth along his cock that’s weeping excitement at the sight of you. Your hips twist restlessly against the leather, your buttocks wet with the copious arousal that’s leaked from your core, and it’s an act of impulsion that has you boldly picking up your feet from the floor and placing a heel on the end of each arm rest to put yourself on full display, praying it might tempt him into giving in.

“Desperation looks so damn good on you,” Jungkook grits out, his fist tightening around his cock as he pumps it roughly, his attention focused directly on your glistening folds, “Fucking beautiful.”

“Please Jungkook,” you mewl, your needy little hole visibly clenching for him to see, wetness running down between your buttocks and making every inch of your filth slickened skin seem to shine, “I need you, please.”

You’re not sure exactly what it is that finally makes your husband snap. All you know is that one second he’s stood above you, hand wrapped his cock, and then the next he’s all over you, fingers dug deep into the meat of your thighs and his tongue behind your teeth. It’s the first time you’ve kissed since your discovery, and this is like none you’ve shared before, even in your most passionate of moments.

Jungkook dominates in every sense of the word, his teeth sinking into your already well-chewed bottom lip and tongue diving deep, reckless with the weight of his body as he presses himself on top of you, the girth of his cock slipping against your core.

“Oh god,” you gasp into his open mouth as you feel him angle his hips just so, so eager to take you that there’s no preparation, no stretch of his fingers to ready you before he starts to push inside, groaning low as you let out a strangled cry in half-hearted protest, “Jungko-ah!”

Inch by inch, he eases himself inside, his forehead pressed to yours as your walls convulse around the intrusion, like your body is trying in vain to drag him further in faster than Jungkook will allow. He’s dragging this out to enjoy every wail that you release into his mouth, every jump of your hips each time he sinks further in.

“Know you love that burn, baby,” Jungkook grunts out, teeth clenched and jaw tight, “Love my fat cock stretching you out just right.” With your hands bound as they are and your body trapped under Jungkook’s own, you have little choice but to wrap your thighs around his narrow waist and gratefully receive all he has to give you, whimpering with pleasure when he finally bottoms out, the head of his cock nestled snug against your cervix.

“Fuck, you’re so tight.” Slowly, he pulls all the way out. “Fuck.” The second thrust is much easier than the first and the third just right, and each and every time Jungkook sinks into you it's to an accompaniment of wet, squelching sounds that border on obscene.

“J-jungkook,” you stammer, driven mad by the excruciatingly slow pace he’s adopted and the leisurely way he rolls his hips against you. Before every thrust he pulls all the way out before plunging back inside, and every time he slips out it leaves you with an ache so fierce deep down in your core that it almost makes you cry, throat burning with the effort it takes to hold back the tears.

“You want it harder, baby?” Jungkook smirks into the crook of your neck where he’d been busy trailing kiss after kiss to your extra-sensitive skin when he feels your heels dig into his meaty buttocks, fighting to keep him inside. Your throat has always been your weakness, and clearly your husband means to exploit by the way he lavishes it with such attention, tongue and lips and teeth working in tandem to make your wriggle around on the end of his cock all the more.

He pulls away just enough to fix you in a dark, heated stare, stilling inside of you before uttering huskily,

“Want me to show you how rough I can get?”

Air stolen out from your lungs, all you can do is nod your acquiescence and the fingers resting atop of your head twist together as you palm begin to sweat, suddenly nervous, wondering what it is you’re letting yourself in for, but Jungkook doesn’t give you time to second guess.

As soon as your head is bobbing he’s abruptly lifting you up and out of his chair, still buried deep within, grabbing handfuls on your ass to hold you in place as you sling your arms around his neck and clench your thighs around him tight, afraid that you might fall.

Jungkook has no intention of letting that happen. Grunting with the effort, he begins to bouncing you rapidly on his cock in mid-air, and the exertion of it breaking him out into a sweat only seconds after he begins, dripping between the frown that creases his brow. Underneath you his powerful thighs are straining to breaking point and yet he still doesn’t stop, not until you’re practically sobbing at how heavenly it feels to have him slam against your g-spot again and again, your face buried at the juncture of his shoulder and neck.

You feel him side-step and then all of a sudden you’re falling backward and your back is crashing down onto the desk, Jungkook grabbing at both of your thighs to push them back and bury himself even deeper into you, utterly unconcerned with the sound of his gun falling to the floor at his feet. He has far sweeter noises to listen to; the endless moans of pleasure that are pouring forth from your wide open mouth, back arching, head tilted back.

“You make the prettiest sounds when you’re taking my cock, baby,” Jungkook informs you through his laboured breaths, “You take it so well.”

With great effort you manage to open your eyes to the sound of his voice, body jolting with every one of his thrusts, and the visage that awaits you has your orgasm you could already feel approaching lurching ever nearer. Jungkook towering over you, his musculature covered in a sheen of sweat and a hungry look in the eyes that follow the path his hand trials downward from your stomach to reach between your legs for the rough pads of his fingertips to locate your clit and pinch it, hard.

“O-oh shit,” you curse at the feel of your high fast approaching; a delicious tightening of every one of your muscles that Jungkook is able to feel from the inside, your passages squeezing even harder than before, impossibly tight. Your whole pelvis feels as though it’s liquefying into a molten heat that spreads further out into your veins with every thrust of his hips and circle of his fingers, alighting every one of your nerves along the way until a wave of white hot pleasure engulfs you from your head to your toes.

“Cum nice and hard for me, baby,” Jungkook encourages even as you convulse underneath him, crying out his name, your stomach muscles tensing in perfect time with your core, “There’s a good girl.”

Your orgasm is so fierce, so long-lasting, that it takes all Jungkook has to hold back and not finish there and then - to pour himself into you as he so longs to. Instead, he forces himself to pull out before the temptation proves too much, and even as in the haze that accompanies your coming down you’re still aware of his sudden absence within you. You look up - chin tilted forward - confusion flashing across your fucked out expression.

Jungkook’s sinks back into his computer chair, spreading his legs open wide, and it’s with a curl of his finger that he beckons you to come take your place on his lap. On wobbling legs you manage to stand, your gaze fixed on the thick cock that awaits you, stood tall against his stomach and shining with the fluid that’d gushed forth with your orgasm.

Jungkook hums lowly as he watches you climb onto his lap, admiring the way your body moves to settle your thighs either side of his own, a hand on your hip to keep you steady. His chestnut brown hair is a mess from having dried in disarray yet it only serves to make him look all more irresistible, and you find It amazing that even having cum so hard just a matter of minutes ago you’re still craving him more and more; your appetite for him insatiable.

Leaning yourself forward, breasts against his chest, you begin to rub your core up and down his length, rolling your hips and softly whining every time it almost slips inside. Without your hands you can’t quite angle everything right, and after a minute or so of senseless grinding against him your husband helpfully grasps his cock between thumb and forefinger to nestle the head amongst your folds, just as eager as you are to put an end to your mutual frustration.

“Fuck, that’s right,” he groans as you sink down onto him, his pretty eyes closing as his chin tilts up, head rolling back, “Bounce on me, baby. Fuck yourself on my cock.” Bracing your forearms against his chest, hands clasped together at the base of his throat, you begin to move. You’ve no intention of taking things slow or drawing this out - you’re both long past that - and the tempo with which you slam yourself down onto his lap, over and over again, is relentless from the offset.

Your thighs burn with the effort it takes to keep going, but it’s worth it; worth it for the pleasure that throbs inside with every smack of his cock against your cervix, every drag of your clit against his pubic bone and every broken moan that falls from Jungkook’s lips. When you start to circle your hips on each stroke up and down his head tips forward again, eyes opening and making you quiver with the intensity with which they look you up and down, greedily taking you in.

“You like riding me, huh?” he asks you, voice strained and his fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips when you nod, boneless, dragging you down onto him even harder. “Ngh - feels so good. Love watching these titties bounce.” Jungkook grabs a handful of your breast to feel it undulate in his palm with your every movement before plucking at your nipple sharply enough to make you gasp, rolling the bud between his fingers and licking his lips like he’d rather it were inside his mouth.

“J-Jungkook,” you mewl, unlinking your fingers to paw helplessly at his skin as you rock back and forth, pace refusing to falter even with your growing exhaustion. It feels to good to stop to stop now - not until you’ve cum again and made him cum with you. “W-wanna cum, please, oh god.”

“Come on then, pretty girl,” Jungkook smiles, leaning his head back against the chair and letting it tilt slightly to the side so as to better admire the view of his cock plunging into your depths over and over again, “No-one’s stopping you.”

“Oh fu-uuck!” You’re close - so close - so very almost there, your head thrown back and sweat beading down your chest with the effort it’s taking to get yourself there without any help from the man beneath you who’s content just to watch you using his body in order to get off, save the extra push and pull of his hands on your hips.

“Come on baby,” he persists, and you can tell from the timbre of Jungkook’s voice and the further hardening of his cock within you that he’s getting close too, “Don’t stop now. You look so good, so perfect for me, fuck, babe, you’re gonna make me cum so hard.” Somehow, you find it within you to start moving even faster, letting out a strangled moan in amongst the sounds of skin slapping and the squelching that accompanies every your every motion thanks to the juices that have seeped onto onto his lap and thighs.

“That’s what you want, right?” His words may be starting to slur - to pour out from his mouth so fast that you’re not even sure that they really make sense - but they’re driving you wild. Jungkook has never been this vocal in bed before you’re starting to think that you might have to insist on it from now on; he’s too good not to. “Want your s-sweet little pussy stuffed full of my cum.”

“Mmff, yes, yes, please, yes,” you chant, unaware that you’re even speaking aloud. Your please are directed more to your own body than to your husband, anyway, egging on the pleasure you can feel growing within until you break for the second time, teeth clamping down on your bottom lip so hard you draw blood. Your movements slow dramatically - a slow undulation of your pelvis rather than the frantic grind that had led you here - but Jungkook is quick to pick up where you left off.

Whilst the walls of your pussy are still clenching around him he grabs onto your ass and begins to thrust up into you from underneath, ruthless, and oversensitivity has you crying out his name and letting your head flop forward to rest on his shoulder as he takes control. Like a ragdoll he lifts you up and down, hips and ass and thighs working hard to reach his end, expending so much energy that he can no longer speak to save the quiet, breathy,

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” that fall endlessly from his lips.

It’s with a faltering cry of your name that Jungkook finally cums, his face pressed into your hair to muffle the moans that follow. You feel every muscle he owns tensing underneath you, as rock solid as his cock has become inside, and then he’s twitching and pulsing and spilling himself inside of you in ecstasy; white hot ribbons of cum squirting out so thick and fast and so much that you can feel it start to seep out even while he’s stuffed so deep.

His breath is hot against your scalp as he tries to catch it, your heaving chests sticky with sweat where they’re pressed together.

“I love you,” Jungkook sighs into your hair after a minute has passed, a hand running through it, and when he sits up you feel him brushing it gently back from your face to look down at where you remain in the crook of his neck, completely exhausted. “I’m sorry I never told you.”

“It’s ok,” you murmur, eyelids fluttering open to be greeted by your husband smiling softly down at you, eyes creasing at the corners, “I’m still mad… and there’s a lot we need to talk about.” It takes a great effort to sit yourself upright again but with Jungkook’s help you accomplish it, smiling sleepily back at him. “But I still love you, even if you’re not quite who I thought you were.”

“Good to know.” Cradling your cheek, Jungkook leans forward and presses a sweet, lingering kiss to your mouth and another peck thereafter, touching noses.

It’s reassuring to have him act so sweetly with you now; gently lifting you off of his length to settle you crossways over his lap, uncaring about the mess that swiftly leaks out of you onto his thighs. He’s extra careful, too, as he cuts you lose from your binds, and after he sets his knife aside Jungkook spends a good few minutes dutifully massaging and kissing at the red marks that are left behind, the soft brown of his eyes full of love as he lavishes you with affection.

No matter who he is - or what he might be - Jungkook is still the man you fell in love with so many years ago. He’s still the same man who falls asleep every night at your side and who kisses you awake every morning; who brings you breakfast in bed and makes you laugh until you cry. It’ll take a lot of time, and a lot of talking, but somehow you’ll get through this. No matter what, you couldn’t bare to part.

You’re not sure what that says about you - but one problem at a time.

“So,” you begin as Jungkook is carrying you across the living room in his arms, your fingers playing in the back of his hair where it’s starting to grow just a little too long, “There’s definitely nothing else you need to tell me?”

“Nothing,” he confirms with a decisive nod, “Promise.”

“Hm.” Dangling your legs over the crook of his elbow, you cluck your tongue thoughtfully. “That’s a shame… I kinda liked the cable ties.” Your husband pauses on the bathroom tile, looking down at you with raised eyebrows and an amused twinkle in his eyes.

“... I’m sure I can think of something.”

#bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook/reader #jungkook x reader #Jeon Jungkook #jeongguk x reader #jeongguk/reader #Kookie #Jungkook imagines #Jungkook scenarios #bts mafia au #bts reader insert

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alfredosauce50 · 6 years ago

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Who's the bad guy? ( 2p + 1p America x reader) 3

Wordcount: 2,700 The reader is referred to as she/her

Allen's place was a small yet rather decent house that only had one floor. Crisp, beige white paint used to flake off of the wood from the outside onto the grass below, but you advised him that it would be better without any added color on the lovely burgundy wood anyway. Sometimes you two would get together and have little "Not Spring day Spring days" to keep his place at an inhabitable and decent condition to stay. It was now a more neater, humble little house paired with a polished black impala next to it that seemed to be cared for better than the actual living space. "Allen!" You shouted, pounding your fists on his door. "Open sesame please!" If you hit the door any harder, your hand would have gone straight through it. The only thing stopping you was the fly screen. Withdrawing your hands once again to let them rest against your sides, you stood around on the front porch with your lips pursed. The sides of your hands were starting to sense a little sting from the constant thumping pressure inflicted on it. You let out a huff and glanced down at your phone, clicking it open to reveal the time. Half past nine it was, and that lazy redhead was still unable to pick himself up to answer his own door.

Yes, Allen was still half naked curled up under the covers completely deaf to all his surroundings. His counterpart, however, was typing away busily on a tablet on one of the kitchen high chairs with wireless earphones and spoke rather quickly into it. You raised your hand against the hard surface of the wood and was about to knock once more but someone's voice stopped you. Narrowing your eyes to look past the dark filter of the fly screen, you peered around to attain the perfect angle to spy on the activity in the house. "Look, I just want it done by tomorrow night. Is that too much to ask for?" He sighed, his face unseen and focused on the bright screen sitting in front for him. His back moved occasionally and his arms moved elegantly but efficiently as he worked his way around his temporary desk set up on the counter. You stared at him in wonder. "Yeah, of course. I have my part done. It's all on you now. Alright. Bye." Once the house fell into silence again, you called his name. "Alfred!" You spotted his blonde tresses move as he jolted to turn around and look at you. Stifling back a couple of laughs, you waved at him. His baby blue irises brightened at the sight of you under a pair of rimless glasses. "(F/N)! Good morning!" He smiled, hopping off the chair and walking over to open the door. There was nothing but the sound of his footsteps and the faint snoring from one of the bedrooms, and there was nothing that could please him more. "Good morning!" You replied, finally able to see him clearly with the door out of the way. "It's nice to see you up and working already." He welcomed you into the humble abode before disappearing into the kitchen again. "Yeah, I'm on vacation and yet people can't seem to get work done without me there." He huffed. A few clinks of glass was heard from where you were sitting. "Would you like me to get you anything? Orange juice? Coke?" Peering over to the source of the voice, you hummed. "Oh, water is just fine, thank you." He nodded subconsciously and filled a glass from the tap just as you requested. Placing it in front of you on the coffee table, he took a seat next to you. Muttering another word of thankfulness, you reached for it and took a few sips allowing the cool liquid to soothe your dry mouth from all the shouting. He returned his gaze to you. "So, how's your day been?" You cleared your throat and grinned at him. "I don't know, how has yours been, big shot?" He shot you a quizzical look. "Seems like you've been pretty busy in the morning. What kind of career gets you so busy that you can't even answer your door?" Alfred's lips separated agape and he waved his hands at you apologetically, absolute terror flashing in his eyes. "I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting, really!" He spluttered. "I was just on the phone with one of my employees and uh, he kept on putting shit on hold. Yeah, I'm usually not that busy that I can't answer the door," Your lips stretched into a wide smile and you cracked up in his face. "Haha, I know, I know. I was just messing with you." You breathed heavily. Absolute confusion made its way to his face and he rubbed his nape sheepishly. "Hehe, oh right." He murmured. He flickered his eyes over to you and found you still gleaming at him with that adorable smile of yours. Immediately darting away his eyes, he felt the horrible burn on his neck spread to his ears and cheeks. Taking another sip of your water, you shifted on the cushions to get comfortable all while he had his visage focused in his lap. "But really, what kind of job do you have? You sound pretty important to me," You continued. He turned his head over to you and blinked. "Oh, er, I work at this company." He replied, unsure on whether to get any deeper than that. "Pretty busy company." You hummed with a hint of disappointment. "So busy that you can't even get a day off in your vacation? I was even thinking of showing you around town too!" You exasperated, catching him by surprise. Of course he had a few free days to spare, but just not today. That didn't seem to matter to him and he suddenly jolted up to sit up straight. "Wait, what? You should have said! Of course I'll come!" The atmosphere exploded then, two hearts pounding in exhilaration from a soon-to-come little play date in town. That set off an in-built mental alarm inside a particular man who was just peacefully snoozing away a few doors away. He inhaled deeply and groaned, rolling around on his thin double mattress that squeaked loudly under his weight. Blinking away the cloud of rust that had formed over his eyes, he stuck up his arm in the air and stared. "I know this great cafe, just a couple minutes away. We should drop by and grab a bite to eat there. Then we can go to the mall just across the street. It's not the best mall in the world, but I love their sales and stores..." The fast-paced wording was bound to throw anybody off track, but he had long grown accustomed to it because he had no choice. Speaking of malls, the thought of you suddenly crossed his mind at the mention of it. If you weren't talking about malls with him or your gay blond Italian friend on the phone, who else could it be? All his ideas tied together and formed a rather ugly shape. The obnoxious laughter of his most loathed relative ricocheted in the walls of his mind like bullets. Even if it was just his imagination, God did it hurt like the real deal. His face was consumed with a frown and he threw the blankets off of his legs, ready to burst out the door in nothing but a pair of boxers. It was his house, so why should anyone care? "Did someone say mall?" He asked, appearing in the living room and cutting your lively conversation short. The two of your heads darted to him and your lips stopped moving. "Woah hey Allen, why don't you put on a shirt or pants at least? We have a guest over," Alfred coughed. He was dismissed almost immediately and Allen took a seat in the middle of you two. The couch dipped significantly lower causing your form to slide down and press against his shoulders. "Doesn't matter. We've seen each other in less." He snapped, bringing a rush of blood red to your face. You slapped him on the shoulder and clenched your teeth tightly. "Allen!" You seethed. "You have no shame!" That was one time, one fucking time and he still won't stop bringing it up. It occurred when you unfortunately opened the bathroom door without knocking to reveal him butt-naked in front of the mirror and shaving his... Places. You never returned to that bathroom ever again without knocking, even if he wasn't in there. Now, what was the time when he peeked at you? Changing in his bedroom turned out to be a horrible idea. He flashed you a toothy grin. "What's there to be shy about?" "Everything, Allen." You grumbled. He knew no bounds, this man. With you, he just loved crossing yours. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders and pulled you close so that you could feel his hot skin flush against yours. What was he doing? You peered up at him slowly to find him already staring at you. For some reason, your heart was fluttering when he touched you. "Come on babydoll, we're best buds, aren't we? No need to hide anything," He replied, making your face heat up again. Keeping his gaze locked with yours, he held you closer so that it was almost like a hug. This was done in a fraction of a second, but he was able to catch the fact that Alfred was making and boy, was he tense. You breathed in frustratedly. "Yeah, but you're a dude and I'm a girl. It doesn't work like that," Seeing that he still looked unconvinced, you turned over to Alfred. "Right, Alfred?" He nodded quickly. "Yeah, dude. (F/N) isn't comfortable seeing your junk as a dudette," Allen rolled his red-hued eyes. "Alright, whatever you say." He murmured. Everything then drifted off into an awkward silence. Duty calls for you to break through the ice. "So..." You started. "Alfred and I were planning to go to town. You wanna tag along?" He widened his eyes and he felt his stomach churn. So that was what the two of you were up to! Of course he was going to tag along! "Fuck yeah I'll come!" Anything to keep an eye on that stupid cousin of his. He was going to watch him like a hawk with every second he had on his hands. After Allen slipped on something to wear which consisted of a white tank top, bomber jacket and of course, pants, the three of you set out on a little adventure to the local shopping district. Nothing to compare to what the real shopping districts were like in New York, but it was all you had growing up. As the residential area slowly disappeared out of sight, taller buildings and the street full of stores and cafes filled your line of vision. Since it wasn't close to the appropriate time to eat lunch yet, the three of you wandered through different stores on the main street. Besides the time spent browsing through goods and window shopping, Allen's hand never left yours. Interlocking his fingers with yours, he walked closely by your side when shop-hopping. You thought it was cute of him, but he was acting a little out of the ordinary nevertheless. The homely buzz of chatter filled your ears just as a waft of warm, baking bread engulfed your nose. The air inside was very warm and inviting, bringing people closer as they shared their thoughts and opinions in casual conversations. You've just arrived at one of your friend's bakery cafe, one of the most popular places to eat with the community. Taking a seat at one of the tables with the two boys following suit, you all ordered something different. The waiter disappeared into the kitchen. "How do you like it here so far, Alfred?" You asked, "Not too shabby for you?" Allen found himself snickering silently. "Oh, it's totally awesome! The stuff here is like, really cheap." He replied energetically, earning a satisfied hum from you. "That's good to hear," You said. Shortly after the three of you finished your meals with Alfred finishing first despite eating three times as much, the owner walked up to you three with a tray in his hands. There sat three gleaming glass bowls of ice cream sundaes loaded with a mountain of chocolate syrup, sprinkles and a rainbow of other toppings. Before he could place them on your table, you held up your hand to stop him. "Hold on, we didn't order these," You cut in. He flashed you a smile and chuckled. "I know, it's all on the house." "What! No way! We can't have this, it's too much." You continued. "Oh, of course you can. You've got your new blonde friend here to help you. He ordered three mains, I think he can handle some dessert." He laughed heartily and gave Alfred a few pats on the back. You exchanged looks with the said boy and found him just as surprised. "I gotta say thanks for bringing me another hungry mouth to feed. For this one, I'll say ravenous." You smiled. "Well, thank you!" He waltzed back to the kitchen with an empty metal tray. "... Holy fuck." You heard Alfred whisper in awe. "I've never eaten something like this for free." "You haven't?" You picked off another chunk of the chocolate ice cream and stuffed it in your mouth. "I have. I used to get free food from this place all the time when I was little," "Same." The blonde gawked at the two of you with more disbelief with a hint of jealousy. If he ordered a sundae back at where he was from, he'd pay the full price no doubt. How come it was different here? He tried figuring that out by giving the cafe another quick scan, the first time being when he stepped foot on the vicinity. The atmosphere was jovial and full of laughter, smiles radiating the room like no light source could ever do. But everyone here was dressed in tatters! He couldn't understand how anybody could be satisfied living here. Unless... His gaze softened at you. You were laughing at Allen who'd just dropped a spoonful of strawberry ice cream on the table. The melody of your laughter was better than any music he had ever been blessed to hear, albeit an orchestra or a concert. People were satisfied with simplicity? Maybe that was why there was still a sense of happiness around such a poor neighborhood. For once, he was genuinely laughing along with you. He thought he wasn't able to enjoy himself with his time here at Allen's, but... He realized something this time. Even if he wasn't going to complain as much as before, the redhead was going loathe his visit much more than he ever had. Knowing that the 'asshole' thing won't work anymore, he needed to come up with some plan B tactics to keep you out of his hands. The lively blonde continued to converse with you, telling one-liners and even... What was that? Did Allen just hear him flirt with you? He watched your face heat up a couple notches and he felt himself do the same, except out of fury. It wasn't just plain anger that was surging through him, but hurt. His chest grew tighter as he stared at the two of you out of the corner of his eye. He didn't want to make it look obvious that he was watching. But what gives? The way how that wonderful smile graced your face every now and then made his heart melt. The world didn't deserve it, and Alfred certainly didn't either. He used to be the only one who made you smile like that. The longer Allen sat there in silence with nothing but ice cream, the closer Alfred leaned into you. If this wasn't in public, Allen would have had his hands around his throat by now.

#hetalia #2ptalia #hetalia x reader #fanfiction #aph #aphamerica #2p america x reader #2p america #2pamerica #alfred f jones #story #romance #axis powers hetalia #axis powers ヘタリア #allen jones

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eyeofthewizard · 3 years ago

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Ugh...

When I tell people about my ‘condition’ it comes off very flippant and like I maybe don’t mean it, “Haha, yeah I throw up most mornings and can’t usually eat until sometime in the evening, no matter how hungry I am, without getting violently sick to my stomach lol so annoying, but that’s life, right?” But, like, I just don’t care anymore. I spent so many years caring so much and trying so hard when this shit first started happening, but when the doctors you ask for help do not care or call you a liar it gets really hard to keep up the motivation. I’ve seen a couple dozen medical folks over the past decade or so, from your basic RNs all the way up to certified G.I. Specialists with a 4-6 month waiting list for appointments, and a grand total of TWO (2) of them have actually seemed to care or have any interest in helping. AS AN EXAMPLE when this was all first starting and I’d had a stretch of about a week of almost continuously retching and throwing up everything that went down my throat almost immediately. Eventually I started throwing up bloody chunks of something so my in-laws (that I was staying with at the time) took me in to the ER.

When we got there the docs hooked me up to some saline to hydrate and asked what was going on, I told them about the vomiting and that the last doc said it was some kind of GERD (super-acid-reflux), and the ER docs told me that that made no sense and that my symptoms were more in line with a meth addict going through withdrawals.

I was all like, “Being an addict would mean I do it regularly, I’ve never even smoked meth casually.”

To which the doc replies, “It’s actually very common for addicts to lie about their usage when family is in the room.”

And then looks very directly over at my in-laws.

Fine, f@#$ing test me, I’ve been asking you to run some tests to see what’s wrong with me, throw in a friggin piss-test to see what-all I’ve been smoking too! They do the piss-test (and no others) which shows absolutely no trace of meth (wow, shocking), and so they say I’m fine to go home. Now, at this point I’m still vomiting blood (no more chunks though) so I’m pretty sure I’m not actually fine, but if they can see me hurling blood into a clear vomit bag while in the exam room and say, “well, he’s not a tweaker so it must be fine” then it’s pretty damn obvious they’re not actually going to help me in the slightest.

So I did leave.

A day or two after that I figured out that smoking pot that’s already been run through a vaporizer (as in, pot that’s already had all of its potty, high-getting goodness burned off) actually settled my stomach enough to eat.

There are so many, many more examples I have of shitty doctors ignoring me or accusing me of lying that most aren’t even worth mentioning.

But through it all I’ve experimented myself, with diet, with sleep patterns, with cutting out bad habits, with all of the obvious things to try. And anytime I see a new doctor they recommend those things, I explain the trials I’ve done before and the results I’ve seen and what I think it might mean and they invariably come up with something like, “I know you just said you stopped all cannabis consumption for 6 months without it helping in the past, but if you go 4-6 weeks without it while under my care it should actually make a difference!”

And at first I would go along with it. Be all, “ok, the thing that didn’t work when I tried it before didn’t work this time either, can you now take my word on how my body responds to crap and offer something new? No? You want me to eliminate caffeine from my diet now? And if I give you a week-by-week breakdown of how it went when I eliminated caffeine from my diet for 2 months last year can we just skip this? No, I have to try it when it’s your suggestion instead of my own idea? Ok thanks.”

So what’s the point? The few ‘helpful’ doctors treat my like an idiot who doesn’t know how my own body functions, and I have to wade through masses of outright assholes who accuse my of lying or just being confused about what’s happening.

(which, excuse me, but if I’m vomiting bile continuously for an hour, then I drink a redbull and stop vomiting it’s clear the redbull stopped it. Why and how an energy drink could settle a stomach is a great fucking question and one I’d dearly love an answer to, but most doctors just say ‘well, that’s not how energy drinks affect the body so you must be confused’ DAMNRIGHT I’m confused, confused as to HOW it’s happening, but sure as shit not to WHAT is happening)

Also, quick shout out to the ER doc who thinks that a job that would fire me for missing a single day without a doctors note would also pay me enough to have a speedboat. I don’t even know how to wakeboard man, I’m not swinging by the freakin ER on my way to the dock, I’m trying to not get fired for being chronically unwell with something that makes no sense.

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blueboxesandtrafficcones · 8 years ago

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A Blonde Walks into A Bar

Haha! Made it with (checks time) five minutes to spare! Day 22 of 31 Days of Ficmas @doctorroseprompts (Shiver)

@timepetalsprompts - bingo - Piper, Badass. All Doctors in love with Rose (duh). Probably others.

Also for the nonny who requested: A prompt: 12 x Rose; Clean; Shiver (Dimension Hopping Rose). Thank you! This has been sitting in my WIPs for almost two months, mostly finished. When you sent your prompt, it seemed meant to be! Thanks, friend! (Can you believe I met ALL the parts? Me neither!)

Ficmas Masterlist 2017, Day 22

AO3

Sitting at the end of the table, the Doctor allowed the voices of Bill’s friends/temporary roommates to wash over him.

She had vanished to the bar to procure the next round, and he sat in silence listening to the kids talk about their adventure. He was just grateful that they’d all survived to tell the tale; thinking about how easily it could have been different made him shiver.

He’d just raised his beer for a sip when Bill returned, another woman trailing behind her. “Hope you don’t mind, but she was alone at the bar and I thought she could use some company, so I invited her to join us. This is everyone. Everyone, this is Rose.”

Despite knowing logically that it wasn’t his Rose, his hearts still gave a painful thump at the name and he looked up to reassure them.

He promptly choked on his beer, spitting half of it out as he coughed and spluttered.

“All right there, mate?” Bill’s new friend asked and his eyes watered in response, though not because of his fit.

“Yeah,” he muttered in a daze, too busy staring at her.

At Rose.

At his Rose.

She gave him a small smile, but it wasn’t right. Her tongue was firmly locked away behind closed lips and teeth and more importantly, it didn’t reach her eyes.

She looked exhausted. World weary.

As he began to recover from his shock and process that this moment was real, he saw more. She was wearing that same outfit she’d been in when they’d been reunited. She also looked pale and thin.

And she was staring back at him, eyebrow raised.

“Oi!” Bill snapped her fingers in his face. “You’re being a pervy old man. I didn’t invite her over here to be eye candy for you. Quit staring, it’s rude.”

And out it came, as if Pavlov himself had rung the cloister bell.

“Rude and not ginger, that’s me.”

The comment made Bill frown but in contrast as her expression darkened, Rose’s lightened until she was giving him that smile he’d missed so much.

“Still the sort of man you are, then?” she teased, and his hearts stopped for a beat before taking off again at double time.

“Rose,” was all he could manage around the lump in his throat, her name circling on a loop as it hadn’t for a millennia.

Ignoring the rest of the table and focused solely on him, Rose gingerly settled onto the seat next to him.

“Hi,” she offered hesitantly, and he gave her a brilliant smile in return. It felt strange, unnatural on this face, but her answering grin made it worth it.

“Hi,” he managed to breathe back, and she scooted her chair a little closer.

They watched each other for several long moments before she asked, “I don’t suppose I need to explain where I am or what I’m doing, do I?”

The Doctor shook his head slowly. “No. You’re doing the impossible. You’re being Rose Tyler.” Unable to help himself, her name came out almost as a prayer, as it always had.

Unable to help herself any longer Rose carefully laid her hand flat on the table before inching it closer to him. Almost immediately he reached out his own, placing it atop hers. It wasn’t until she’d flipped her palm up and laced their fingers that he realized it was her left in his right – just as it always had been, from Run.

The moment their skin touched, every feeling for her he’d so carefully and painfully locked away came rushing back with all the force of a tsunami. Long-buried memories flickered through his mind, filling his very soul until all he could see was her.

“Uh, excuse me, what the hell?” Bill burst their bubble, and Rose immediately tried to withdraw her hand. The Doctor, however, recognizing this precious gift of the universe for the fleeting moment it was, only gripped tighter, refusing to let go.

“This is Rose. Lo- Rose, this is Bill, she travels with me sometimes.”

The two women sized each other up, Rose ultimately making the first move by holding out her other hand.

“Nice to meet you.”

“Yeah, you too.” Bill shook her hand, still obviously confused.

“I used to travel with him,” Rose explained, and the Doctor squeezed her hand at the understatement.

“Ah.” Bill looked distinctly uncomfortable; she was used to the Doctor being cold and aloof, but watching him watch Rose, stars in his eyes, she thought that this might be the first time she was really seeing the person inside the alien.

“Why did you stop?” She thought to ask, curious.

The two scowled in tandem, but Rose answered.

“It’s a long story, but I’m stuck in a parallel universe.” Seeing Bill’s raised eyebrow at the present tense, she added, “I’ve built a device that’s supposed to bring me home. I usually hit either the right universe, the right time, or the right planet. Sometimes I get two of the three, but never all of them.”

“You will,” the Doctor reassured her, and she let out a sigh of relief.

“Good. You have no idea how badly I want to get home.”

Feeling guilty, knowing how that was going to end, he tore his gaze away from her to focus on Bill, who didn’t look satisfied. “It’s been over fifteen hundred years since I last saw her,” he explained shortly, the Oncoming Storm on his face successfully discouraging both women from asking any further questions.

His eyes softened, though, when he turned back to his Rose. “And you have no idea how badly that me wants you to come home,” he murmured.

Rose bit her lip before checking her watch. “I’ve still got fifteen minutes before the cannon’s charged enough to go back. Want to take a walk?”

The Doctor immediately stood up, making her smile at his eagerness.

“Let me talk to Bill for a second, and I’ll meet you outside.”

He frowned and Rose, knowing him as she did, understood. “I’ll send Control a message that I’ll jump back manually – I’ll have a few hours then.”

Still not looking convinced the Doctor nonetheless capitulated, stalking away from the table and out the door.

As soon as he was out of earshot Rose turned to Bill, speaking quickly.

“Promise me you’ll take care of him,” she begged.

“Well, yeah, but-” Bill started, but Rose kept going.

“No, really. He’s going to be too busy trying to save everyone else to think of himself. It’s your job to keep him safe. Sometimes that means doing what he’s explicitly told you not to. At the end of the say, he needs someone to remind him he can’t save everyone, and that’s okay,” she explained, shooting anxious glances towards the door.

“I will,” Bill agreed, bewildered.

“Great, thank you.” Giving her new friend a quick hug, Rose dashed out the door.

Rose burst out into the cool night air, taking a deep breath as the Doctor appeared silently at her shoulder. Without discussion their hands came together as they set off down the road.

“Am I going to remember this?” Rose wondered eventually, breaking the comfortable silence.

The Doctor shrugged, so close she could feel the movement against her jacket.

“I will,” he told her softly.

She nodded before asking, “Fifteen hundred years?”

“Roughly.” He exhaled sharply, squeezing her hand, and she momentarily rested her head on his shoulder in response.

“You look good,” she managed to tease, making him chuckle.

“I miss you.” The raw honesty in his voice made her tear up, just as the cannon strapped to her wrist beeped.

“Oh!” She quickly dropped his hand to page Control.

“Control, this is Rose. I’ve found something interesting. I’ll jump back manually. Over.”

“Roger that. Say ‘hi’ for me. Over,” Mickey replied, and she rolled her eyes as she retook the Doctor’s hand.

“Mickey says ‘hi’,” Rose reported dutifully.

“Well, if you remember, say ‘hi’ back,” he deadpanned.

They walked again in silence for several minutes before she started giggling.

“What? What’s so funny?”

“I don’t know what to say!” She cried, wiping away tears. “I’m working so hard to get home, and now we’re here, and I can’t think of anything to say!”

“Rose,” he said gently, pulling her to a stop. You know, don’t you?”

She nodded. Despite not having ever heard the words, she’d long since understood his actions which spoke louder than anything. The way he said her name, Rose Tyler, was their As you wish.

“And so do I.” He stooped a little to meet her eyeline. “Everything else is just noise.”

She gave him that sad, understanding smile she did so well, and his resolve broke.

Bringing his palm up to gently cradle her cheek, he slowly lowered his head to hers. Pausing scant centimeters away, giving her time to pull back, he waited. As he’d hoped, she fisted his lapels and pulled him to her.

The noise stopped.

“These are gorgeous!” Rose enthused, happily munching on a chip. “I mean, we’ve got decent chips in Pete’s World, but not like this!”

Content to just watch her the Doctor teased, “Oh, now the truth comes out. It’s the chips you’re really working to get back to, not me.”

She looked up from her spoils to consider him, before shrugging. “Well, it’s certainly a bonus.”

“I honestly can’t tell if I’m the bonus or the chips are.” He smirked before stealing a chip.

“You know home is you,” she told him, glaring over the theft.

“Any advice?” she asked when he didn’t reply.

He leaned back in his seat, considering her for several long moments. “Do you know about Donna?” The non-sequitur made her blink, but she rolled with it.

“No. Who’s Donna?”

“A friend. She was traveling with me when you found me. Brash, opinionated. Ginger.” He couldn’t hide his jealous scowl.

Rose started to shake her head before a memory niggled. “D’you have a picture?”

“Actually-” It took a minute for him to dig through his pockets, but eventually he pulled out an envelope with a triumphant cry, quickly sorting through it before finding what he was looking for. “Here.”

Rose took it, unsurprised to see the redhead she’d encountered the week before. After everything she’d seen on her jumps, it took quite a bit to get a reaction.

“I hope Sylvia got her keys,” she muttered, staring at the picture. The Doctor’s head jerked.

“What?”

“Yeah, I met her last week. Well, last week for me. I jumped, landed on the right planet and universe, only to see all these little fat babies or something floating towards a ship in the sky. I was waiting out the timer standing at a police barrier when she came running up. Told me to tell ‘Sylvia’ which rubbish bin she’d thrown her keys into,” Rose explained, amused at his incredulous expression.

He shook his head in disbelief. “What are the odds…” he asked softly. “Yeah, that’s Donna. Brilliant, she was.”

“I’ll tell her you said that,” Rose joked.

“I know.” His voice held a bit of a smirk, making her suspect there was now a circular paradox in play.

“So, what do I need to know then?”

The Doctor snapped out of his memories, focusing instead on the precious girl in front of him and the little time he had with her. “I assume you’re trying to track me?” Rose nodded. “Don’t. Focus on finding Donna – she’s the key.”

“Really?” She asked skeptically.

“Donna Noble’s the most important person in the whole of creation. At least then. And, you know, big picture.”

“Okay.” Not trusting her memory, Rose typed a note to herself in her phone. “Anything else?”

His mouth opened and closed several times without making a sound, and she knew his hearts were at war with his Time Lord instincts. Eventually they won, and he shook his head. “Finished?”

She popped the last fry into her mouth, amused at how he stared with unabashed jealousy. Taking care to slowly lick her lips, she rose. “Yep.”

They made their way out of the chippy, back to wandering the streets. A cold gust of wind blew through, making her shiver violently.

“Come here,” he offered, holding out one arm. She happily burrowed under it, nuzzling her face into his shoulder as he wrapped his coat around her.

“It’s summer for us,” Rose felt the need to explain.

“Ah,” he replied, biting his lip to keep his first reaction to himself.

But Rose knew. “Got any suggestions how to warm me up?” She asked cheekily, smiling that smile again.

“Exactly how long do you have?” He replied, leering down at her.

“Long enough,” she grinned.

He appeared to seriously consider it, before slumping slightly. “Best not, I think.”

She pressed a kiss to his shoulder, squeezing his hand in sympathy. “Probably.”

“Anything you do want to do? Other than that?”

“Can I see your office?” The device strapped to her wrist beeped, and she looked down at it with a frown. “What the-”

“Something wrong?” There was a deep dread in his gut, and he knew his time with her was quickly running out. Funny how often that could happen to a Time Lord.

“It says I’ve got five minutes before it dies,” she reported, biting her lip as she looked up at him.

“So we’ve only got five minutes.” He was desperate to accept her implied offer, but he knew he couldn’t; his entire history could unravel without her saving Donna from that parallel world and then being there on the Crucible. Not that that was necessarily a bad thing, but the whole of reality would collapse and he’d been through that enough times.

“Yeah.” They just stared at each other, both painfully aware of the seconds ticking away.

“I miss you so much,” he whispered when they were down to three and a half minutes.

“I’m right here,” she said simply, laying her hand between his hearts. “I miss you too, desperately, but I close my eyes and think of what you’d do if you were there. Or I think about somewhere we’ve been, or done. I think about Christmas, you so new and adorable in your paper crown. I think on the good, not dwell on the bad. And that’s hard, and sometimes the only way I get through the day is remembering how badly you’d piss me off sometimes. But you, thinking of you, keeps me fighting.”

“I’m proud of you,” he blurted. “Everything you’re doing – you’ve ever done. You’re incredible, Rose Tyler, and you’re doing so much good.”

She gave a shaky laugh. “Doesn’t always feel it. But so do you. You’re so strong, and brave. You keep going, no matter how bad it gets.”

The Doctor shook his head, panic clawing at his throat as he thought of how soon she would disappear. “You’re gonna be happy, okay? I promise, he’s going to fight like hell to make you happy every day of your lives. He wants you desperately, no matter how cool he tries to play it.”

One sob escaped, and she gripped his lapels. “Can’t wait.”

As they neared thirty seconds, it occurred to him that he had an advantage over the last two times they said goodbye was in his arms, and there was no second him to steal his moment.

Leaning down he kissed her hard, both arms wrapping around her waist and anchoring her to him as they mouths met. She wrapped one arm around his shoulders, the other coming up to run her fingers through his hair.

“Great hair,” she muttered between kisses. He would have laughed if he wasn’t so busy chasing her tongue.

“Don’t forget me,” he pleaded softly, feeling the seconds tick down.

“Never.”

At three seconds, he wrenched himself away so as to not accidentally go with her, much as he’d like to.

“Bye,” Rose sobbed, and he gave in.

“Love you.”

Her face lit up, smile growing as she blinked out of view, cannon shooting her back to Pete’s Universe.

He stood staring at the spot where she’d been for long moments before slowly falling to his knees.

Kazran’s words from so long ago echoed through his mind.

One last day with your beloved. What day would you choose?

He’d finally gotten his last day.

It had been perfect.

Finally feeling the cold, he shivered.

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