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wiypt-writes · 4 years ago

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Murder, He Wrote

Part 2 Co-Written with @southerngracela

Summary: After your ordeal at the hands of Ransom, you’re not sure that things can get any worse. Famous last words….

Warnings: Bad language words. MATURE (NSFW 18+) NON-CON situation, kidnap, violence. DO NOT READ IF ANY OF THOSE TRIGGER… READER DISCRETION IS ADVISED. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!!!!

Pairing: DARK! Ransom Drysdale x Reader

A/N: So this is Part 2 to our submission for @Jtargaryen18 ‘s Haunted House 2020 Challenge. Once again READ THE WARNINGS!!!! This is a DARK Series… don’t @ us if you can’t follow simple instructions and end up with butt-hurt. And if you’re under 18…get off my blog.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and by writing it does NOT mean I agree with or condone the acts contained within. This fiction is classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar reader and any other OCs that may or may not be mentioned. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Murder, He Wrote Masterlist // Main Masterlist.

Part 1

With his pride wounded, Ransom drank himself to sleep that night, his mind plotting and scheming of more ways to make his point clear. She was his now and nothing was going to change that. He'd decided it might be time to let her in on his secrets and breakfast seemed as good a time as any and, as such, presented her with a plate of bacon and toast along with a cup of coffee to wash it down. He didn't cook, not well anyway, his preference being diner out or order in. He supposed if this was his new normal, he'd have to learn a new skill. He cringed just slightly at the thought of such domesticity.

When you heard the locks turn, your belly dropped out. You were shocked to see him, afraid of what was coming your way. If the events from the previous night were any indication, you had to steel yourself to once again fight back. Your tired eyes took him in. A plate and mug in his hands, jeans over his long legs, boots on his feet. Broad shoulders covered by a white ribbed long sleeve thermal shirt, eyes cold and distant, arrogant smirk over his lips. A smirk of your own barely parted your lips as you took note of the now pink lines adorning his right cheek, courtesy of your nails biting at his skin in the attack. You turned away from him, your body instinctively curling in on itself, chain stopping you from balling up completely when he approached. Your mouth watered at the smell of the bacon and coffee. You were hungry but your body fought to ignore the pangs, offering him that satisfaction.

"I'm not hungry," you managed, desperately irritated at how weak you sounded.

"Starve then," he set the plate and mug on the nightstand at your bedside. He stood rooted there, arms crossed over his chest.

"People are gonna be looking for me, you know," you point out, sitting up a little more, confidence growing by the second.

“You don’t think I’ve already thought of that?” His hands moved from across his chest to his hips.

As you looked at him, that maddening smug look present on his face it suddenly dawned on you that he might have been more calculating than you’d imagined. And then you understood. You figured out what the connection between him and the actor you’d been supposedly meeting was. None. None whatsoever, except that Lucas Lee had been easy, collateral damage. "You set him up," your brow rose and shock filled your voice. "Lucas Lee... You set him up. What the hell did you do?"

"Sweetheart, the guy's a complete tool, he walked right into it and he'll walk right out. Just a couple of hours of questioning and he'll be let go," Ransom shrugged as if this were nothing.

"You're disgusting," you seethe. This arrogant asshole used someone just to get to you and he was PROUD of it. You didn't know what you expected, but the notion of the reality was appalling.

"You don't know the half of it," he winked.

"You're never going to get away with this," you managed to threaten. The look in his eyes caught your breath as he leaned in close, hands on the mattress on either side of your hips.

"I killed Fran, got away with that. I nearly killed Marta, same story," he said, popping a shoulder up. "The point is, Sweetheart, I'm that good, they'll never find you."

"My family, my friends…they'll go to the police. Mick, my boss, he'll want to know where I am after not showing up today. You can't possibly have thought of everything," you shook your head as you wondered just how long he'd been plotting this. You’d only met the asshole a few months ago, interviewed him for a couple of hours max and then released the article days later. How on earth had that transpired into this utter shirt-show? The thoughts were spiraling so fast in your mind, it was dizzying.

"Your boss got an email this morning saying you no longer wanted to work for him, and as for your family and friends, well let’s just say I know where they are. I know your little sister's routine. I know the time your mom walks your dog, and that she does it alone.” Ransom continued and you felt the cold course through your body “You do as I say, and they're safe. If not, well, I can pick them off, one, by one, without even getting my hands dirty," he pulled back, standing over you. "So many criminal junkies in Boston, Sweetheart. Plenty who will take the fall for a little hit,” and with that he turned on his heel and walked to the door.

The true reality of your situation set in and you felt sick to your stomach, despite your hunger. You felt clammy and overwhelmingly dizzy. He had you. If he'd gone this far, followed your family, set up a well-known actor, plotted this entire plan down to how to convince Mick you quit, in a scary short amount of time, just to get to you, you were fully trapped.

"What happens if you lock me down here...and something happens to you?” Worry laced your words.

He turned over his shoulder, "I don't give a fuck." And he slammed the door, the sound of the locks echoing in your room.

In a gut reaction you grabbed the plate of food at threw it at the door where it shattered into pieces, the bacon and toast falling to the floor with it. You screamed as you threw it, for if you hadn't you'd have vomited where you led.

**** Ransom heard the scream and the smash of the plate and paused half way up the stairs. He took a deep breath, contemplating going back down and teaching Y/N some damned manners before he decided to leave it. He’d given her enough to think about for the time being, and besides, he didn’t want to lower himself to delivering another slap to her face like he had done last night. In all honesty, he hadn’t been expecting the site of the bruise on her right cheek to unsettle him as much as it had done. Her pretty face shouldn’t be marked in anyway, and looking at it had simply reminded him how he’d lost control. Of all the things he’d done, he’d never hit a woman before, despite murder and attempted murder. It left a bad taste in his mouth all things considered and a nasty twist in his gut that felt almost like guilt. But it wasn’t guilt, that wasn’t something he did either…no, it was the fact that in all of his actions, even the diabolical ones, he’d remained calm and in control. Until last night. He’d been feral, wild even, and it wasn’t a feeling he relished. But she’d pushed him to it, provoked him. It was her fault, not his.

He shrugged on his coat and grabbed his keys, before he headed out, locking the door and climbing into his black Mercedes SUV. God he missed his beamer, but this was a lot less conspicuous, just as he needed at the moment. He slipped his sunglasses on to shield his eyes against the bright fall sun and set off towards the City.

His mother was already seated and waiting for him when he arrived at the Harbor. He walked over to her table, pulling off his sunglasses and sliding them into the pocket of his camel coat, removing his trademark silk scarf as he went. He handed them off to the help showing him to his seat, asking him to bring him a beer, and sat across from Linda, who was watching him carefully as she lounged back in her seat, properly dressed as ever in a crisp pair of black trousers and a white long sleeved silk blouse. With her legs crossed, she cut quite the imposing figure, but not to him.

Ransom greeted her with a stiff nod and she frowned and gestured to his face.

“What on earth have you done to your cheek?” she questioned, clearly noticing the scratch marks. Ransom hesitated for a second, “Things got a little rough last night, ” he shrugged but his smirk didn't quite reach his eyes. Linda let out a slight groan as she grimaced “Jesus Ransom, I don’t want to know about your sordid little bedroom antics,” she scalded. “Then don’t ask, Mother,” He drawled, not missing a beat.

“Oh believe me, I wish I hadn't.” Linda rolled her eyes.

Ransom looked down at the menu that was on the table in front of him, giving it a cursory glance already knowing what he was ordering, the same as he always did when he was here, before he took a deep breath and raised his eyes to his mother. She wasn’t one for small talk, and neither was he, so he decided to get straight to the point.

“Why are we here?” he demanded “I mean, aside from the obvious guilt driven task of having lunch with your son.” “If you're going to be a spoiled brat why did you even agree to meet me?” Linda shot back and Ransom smirked.

“What was it you always told me mom? No matter how rich you are, never turn down a free meal.”

“Snarky smart ass” Linda retorted and it was his turn to snort as her brow furrowed.

“Now, now Mother. Those frown lines are getting worse” he arched an eyebrow and she glared at him before she sighed.

“I wanted to see how you were, is that so hard to believe.” “In a word, yes.” He shrugged.

“Well, it’s true.” She reached for her glass of wine and took a sip. “I've not seen you since you moved house.”

Ransom rolled his eyes, Jesus he didn’t have time for this shit. He took a deep breath and looked at her as she eyed him expectantly, waiting for his answer “Just fine. I'm enjoying my new place.”

“So, you like it then?” Linda set her glass down and leaned back once more. “I must admit when it came on our books I thought it would suit you.”

“It's different than Kenoak, less modern, but it does the job” he said vaguely and saw her body language stiffen.

“If you don’t like it why did you buy it Ransom?” her tone was exasperated and he had to fight back the grin that was threatening to spread across his face at the fact he was riling her. It was always so damned easy.

“Well, my last place had kinda turned into a bit of a media circus.”

“Yeah, I expect that’s what happens when you're involved in a homicide” she snapped back.

“Say it a bit louder.” Ransom deadpanned “I don’t think they heard you over by the bar.”

“Believe me, that wasn’t intentional.” she held his gaze “Your Granddad’s death isn't something I find funny, Ransom. Not that it ever occurred to you."

Ransom sighed. He was starting to get annoyed under her scrutiny and really wasn’t in the mood for a deep dive into the events of the past year.

“Not of sound mind, Mother.” He said, his voice a little softer as he reminded her of the argument his brief had made which had ensured his acquittal from his crimes, hoping it would shut her up. “Remember?”

“I know son, I know.” Linda leaned over and gently lay her hand on his where it rested on the table. Ransom took a deep breath and shifted in his seat. Physical affection from her always made him uncomfortable as he wasn’t used to it, but for some reason it was heightened in that moment. He sat and pondered for a second on what he had just said. His brief had spun the line about him being under emotional duress due to his granddad cutting him out of his will and whilst there was an element of truth in it, he’d been of perfect mental capacity when he’d enacted his plan. But, if it helped his mother believe that her only son isn’t a monster then…whatever. He pulled his hand back from her and she sighed, clearly mistaking his discomfort for guilt.

“You know, you used to be such an affectionate little boy, Ransom.” Linda looked at her hand as if his rebuttal had burned her before she shook her head and reached once more for her drink. “I often wonder where your dad and I went wrong.”

Ok, so this he could deal with. The reminder that he was a constant disappointment.

“Hard to say.” He snarked “Somewhere between boarding school and Harvard maybe?”

She rolled her eyes “We did what we thought was best.” She set her now empty glass down. “Clearly in hindsight...”

Ransom was saved from her self-indulgent moment of soul searching by the waiter who set his beer down in front of him and asked if they were ready to order. Ransom gestured to his mother who asked for the house salad with a side of tempura prawns whilst he went for his usual, fillet steak with all the trimmings. It was obnoxiously expensive but what the hell, like he cared. Especially not when his Mother was paying...

He took a long pull from his beer as the waiter topped his mother’s glass up from the bottle that stood in the ice bucket next to their table before she thanked him and he disappeared.

“You’ve not asked me how your father is.” Linda looked at Ransom who narrowed his eyes. Why does she care about that? But, deciding it was as good a conversation change as any he shrugged.

“How's Richard?”

Linda rolled her eyes but for the first time since he arrived he noticed a little smirk flicker on her lips before she looked at him. “He’s still your dad Ransom" she reminded.

“Ok, how is my dearest dad? Still fucking the 30 year old au-pair?”

“Yes, apparently, he's taking her to the villa.”

Now that did make him frown. The Villa that they owned in Lake Gada was his mother’s pride and joy.

“Seriously? You're just gonna let him do that?” Ransom’s tone was surprised.

“I have no choice.” Linda took a deep breath “Our divorce isn't final and he's contesting me keeping the property. It's not as cut and dry as one would assume despite his infidelity, numerous infidelities even.”

“He signed a pre-nup, Mom.” Ransom reminded her and Linda nodded.

“I know, but the Villa wasn't part of it. It's the one thing he can hold over me and he's doing just that.” She took a sip of her drink and snorted “Dumb bastard has nothing so he figures why not try his luck here. Fact is, he gets nothing else.”

“Good.” Ransom retorted, a little viciously and Linda eyed himself shrewdly.

“Careful Ransom, you almost sound like you care.” She smirked and he rolled his eyes, not gracing her with an answer. “Anyway, what are you doing with yourself these days?” she moved the conversation on “And I don't mean with women as we've already established when you sat down. Any hobbies or God forbid a job prospect I should know about?” “Aside from my love life, I’m actually writing mother, believe it or not.” He responded, amused at the visible look of shock that crossed her face.

“You're....writing?” her mouth dropped open before she hastily shut it.

“Don't sound too surprised, Linda,” Ransom let out a low chuckle as his mother rolled her eyes at his use of her name. “Granddad always said I had a flare for it. Just-” he paused for a moment before he shrugged “-well, I guess I never really used it much.”

Linda cocked her head to the side as she considered him for a moment before her face softened and once more Ransom felt uncomfortable at her change in demeanour. “He'd be proud of you. I suppose it's what he's always wanted for you, to find something for yourself.”

And there it was. The reminder that he was nothing but a trust fund prick, with no future and nothing of his own to live off. He took a deep breath, gritting his teeth slightly before he responded with a false air of nonchalance.

“I see that now.”

“Good. I'm pleased you do Son.” Linda nodded. “I'm not glad about how it all went down but...well, as dad used to say, things have a strange way of working out in the end.” It was a funny choice of words, Ransom thought, but before he had chance to dwell on it anymore their food arrived. The conversation slowed a little as they both ate, growing a little stilted in places as he told her vaguely what his writing project was about- a private detective- go figure. Linda moaned about more about his father, and then she dropped something casually into the conversation that really did surprise him, that they were planning a memorial for Harlan.

"When?" he frowned, swallowing a mouthful of potato.

“The end of this month, possibly the first week in December. It'll be after Thanksgiving.” Linda waved her hand before she paused, hesitating a little as if she was deliberating whether or not to tell him this next bit. And when she did, he fully realised why. “It was Marta’s idea.” The mere mention of that name was enough to get his hackles up and he took a deep breath, the nerve in his jaw twitching. He looked at his mother as she watched him carefully before he looked away and took a drink of his beer. “Hmmm” was all he could muster.

“Hmmm? What's Hmm, Ransom?” Linda looked at him.

“I figured with Harlan gone she'd be out of our lives.” He shrugged, feeling his neck grow hot. That bitch was responsible for all of this in the first place, the reason he was done out of his inheritance. If she hadn’t got her claws into him none of his would have happened.

“Yes, well, as much as it sticks in my throat that she got everything maybe if we play ball she'll come round to actually giving us all what we're owed.” Linda shrugged “And that aside...it will be nice to remember him.”

The rest of the lunch passed with simple conversation, Ransom steering it well away from the subject of his family. When they’d finished his mother, as predicted, picked up the tab and together they headed outside to wait for the Valet to fetch their vehicles. His mother’s arrived first and she turned to him, the pair of them engaging in the awkward, stilted kissing of the cheeks before she promised him his quarterly check from his shares in her company should land next week. With a nod and a thanks he bid her good bye and a few moments later climbed into his own car and set off back home.

***** With a yell you sat bolt upright, taking a moment to get your bearings as you emerged from the troubled sleep you had fallen back into. Yes, you were still here, in Drysdale’s fucking basement. The tears stung your eyes as you lay back, taking some deep breaths as you attempted to ebb the panic which was setting in. Your situation was disgusting and dire, you were trapped and therefore, you knew you needed to ask for the things you needed, not wanted, just simply needed, or in time, Hugh could add you to his notch post of growing murder victims. The question was, exactly how far could you push him for anything? One wrong move, as you'd learned last night, and you'd be regretting ever uttering a syllable. But you refused to go quietly, you'd be further letting yourself down if you did. You didn't have it in you. However, just how dangerous he was or could be now was no longer lost on you, you had the physical reminder in the biting sting of your cheek, throbbing and tenderness you felt between your legs, and the slight bruising around your wrists where he had pinned them above your head. You hadn’t examined the rest of your body to see what damage he’d done, you didn’t want to.

You ached all over from being led or sat on this damned bed since you’d arrived. The chain attaching you to the bed post wasn’t long enough to allow you to stand up and stretch our your aching limbs so for now you had to settle for attempting to massage some feeling back into your calves, your eyes casting over the various tears and ladders in your thick tights which you’d pulled back up last night with trembling hands after he had violated you.

The door clicked open and your head jerked towards the door as you scrambled higher up the bed, pressing your back into the headboard. You watched as your captor strode in, a packet of Biscoff in his hand pausing as his foot crunched over the shattered remnants of the plate that you’d hurled at the door. He looked up at you, raising an eyebrow, as if he'd forgotten he'd heard you throw it this morning.

“I don’t like cleaning up messes” He said simply as he stepped over it, shutting the door with his foot.

“Pity you killed the house keeper then” you glared at him as he shoved another cookie into his mouth.

“Who, Fran?” he asked with a scoff, his voice muffled by his food.

“How many other house keepers have you killed?” you shot back and he gave a snort.

“None.” Ransom shrugged nonchalantly “But for your information, Fran was a useless dimwit. She only cared about two things. Drugs and getting paid.”

You frowned, was that supposed to justify his actions in some way? He too only cared about getting paid and what money could do for him. “And you care about what exactly other than yourself?” you shot back. He looked at you, a smirk crossing his handsome face as she shoved yet another cookie into his mouth, chewing slowly.

At that point your stomach growled with hunger, just another way your body had betrayed since you since you had arrived and you tore your face from his, turning it to the side.

“Now are you hungry?” he asked as you realised that was probably the bastard’s plan all along. With a deep sigh you looked back at him.

“Can I have one?” you asked meekly.

Ransom studied you for a moment, tongue poking at his cheek, before he strode towards the bed and offered you the packet. You took one and stuffed it straight into your mouth.

“No thank you?”

“Piss off.” You shot back automatically, swallowing your cookie.

His good demeanour ebbed slightly as an irritated look flashed across his face. “Don’t push me, Sweetheart.” his voice was low as he sank onto the side of the bed, looking at you “I think your situation is precarious enough as it is, don’t you?”

You merely glared at him, you had no comeback. There was no comeback. He was right.

“Now if I make you something proper to eat are you gonna take it or throw it at the door again?” he raised his eyebrows “Because, frankly, you starving yourself is of no real concern to me except I kinda think you’re gonna need to keep your strength up.”

It didn’t take a genius to work out exactly what for. But you were so hungry, and the battle inside you raged on before your self-preservation mode won out and you hung your head slightly, looking at the comforter you were led on. “I’ll eat.”

“See, that wasn’t so hard was it?” Ransom smirked again.

“No.” you replied, your voice devoid of emotion. “Can I have some water too?”

“As long as you don’t throw the glass.”

“I’m thirsty.” You replied simply “I won’t.”

He nodded and stood up, offering you the packet of cookies “Have those for now.”

“Thank you.” You took them from him, your tone a little sarcastic, your eyes rolling as you spoke. He looked at you and for a moment you were worried he was about to do something about your response but he simply gave a huff of laughter and turned to leave.

“I’ll be back shortly.” He said, closing the door behind him.

You could no longer bite back the sigh of delight as you took another of the buttery spiced cookies into your mouth. It was rich on your tongue but it was food and you were so hungry. What you wouldn't do for a cup of coffee to go with. You surveyed the room as you chewed the Biscoff thoughtfully. The earlier despair you’d felt upon waking just before he had re-appeared was slowly giving way to determination as you realised that for now practicality had to win you over. Not only did you need sustenance and water, which you knew was on the way, you also needed clothing and access to the bathroom, which you now realized you were desperate for.

So now what, you thought to yourself. The fact that he was willing to feed you despite the fact you’d launched your morning’s meal against the door meant he didn't want you dead. Mind you, if he did you wouldn’t have made it out of that fucking dilapidated house so, just what kind of a game was he playing at here? You weren't sure what his end game was if it didn't mean your certain death. You just didn't understand and felt the struggle of thoughts seep into your mind as you contemplated each step. He doesn't want you dead, but you're locked up, chained up and he's obliterated your body by force. And that was only the first round. So far he's voiced his hell bent plan on keeping you here and making you suffer. And he's done a right job at it after just the first night. He couldn't keep this up for the rest of your life, could he? No, you didn't think, but he's gone as far as to know your every day, your family's every day, detail for detail. It couldn't possibly be for ironically a ransom, no, he had plenty of money still and if you were certain, his mother was still finding ways to slip him allowances and he'd managed to get a small chunk under the table and off the record from your publishers on your behalf. So no, it wasn't for money. Did he expect a better and firm, more sincere apology? Well he sure as shit wasn't going to get one now. Stupid, spoiled fuck. You outwardly scoff at the thought. What does he want that you have? The endgame is unknown but you were in the long game now, that much was apparent. You just had to not walk into verbal traps and wait for him to reveal his hand. But you guessed just by the times you've previously had with Hugh Ransom Drysdale that his hand wouldn't be revealed until he held the right cards.

True to his word Ransom came back what couldn't have been more than 15 minutes later. He handed you a plate containing a simple turkey sandwich, a bag of chips and a plastic bottle of water. “Just in case you get any ideas about smashing it and doing me in…” he said, placing it down.

“Murder is your speciality, not mine” you snarked back biting into your sandwich as the hunger you felt won out over the need to pee that you’d felt before. It was actually pretty good. The bread was fresh, the meat succulent, both more than likely from a deli and not a bog standard store. You ate eagerly, Ransom settled in the arm chair in the corner of the room by the low coffee table, his eyes watching you. You ignored him, concentrating on your food.

“So…” you said as you stuffed the last of your sandwich into your mouth “Are you gonna keep me down here?”

“Yup” he said simply, popping the P.

You swallowed and grabbed the water, cracking the top open and draining half of it in one, your hand trembling slightly. Thankfully you avoided spilling any. You screwed the top on and placed it back on the night stand and watched with horror as he rose from his seat and crossed towards you, sitting on the side of the bed

“So, because I don’t want anything to fuck up what we got here, sweetheart, I have a simple question which you’re gonna answer.” Ransom said, looking at you “Are you on birth-control?”

Your mouth dropped open as you glared at him.

“What the fuck?” you stuttered

“It’s a simple question that requires a yes or no answer.” His expression hadn’t changed, not one bit. Cool, calm and collected, like this was something he would simply ask anyone. As you stared at his smug face, your puzzlement at the seemingly straight outta left field question gave way to anger. He was asking you this, like it was his damned right to know, like he was your fucking boyfriend by choice.

“You tell me, I mean you thought of everything or so you took great pleasure in telling me last night.” You spat. Quick as a flash his hand grabbed your face, his fingers gripping your chin painfully and you let out a little whimper.

“Answer the question.” He said simply

And then you realised, it wasn’t really that out of left field at all was it? It was clear following last night what his intention for you was and like he’d want the added complication of any little surprises turning up in around 9 months. You swallowed, your eyes looked down

“Yes” you whispered, and he released your face.

“Good.” Ransom nodded “Makes things a lot easier.” “I’m not a sex toy, Hugh.” You glared at him and he looked back at you, giving a snort.

“You’ll be whatever I want you to be.” “You’re an asshole.”

“So it’s been said.” He shrugged simply, like he didn’t give a shit. Which, as you realised, he probably didn’t. People like him never did care what they came across like, arrogant trust fund prick.

With a sigh you pinched the bridge of your nose and glanced around the room you were in, as if you really hadn't paid much attention to it's details before. Ironically, if you weren’t here under duress it would actually be quite nice. The bed was large and comfy, there was a reasonably big bathroom attached which from what you could make out contained a fairly nice sized bath tub and a separate walk in shower cubicle. There was what looked like a built in closet next to the bathroom door, a night stand which contained a reading lamp to your right and on the opposite wall to the bed in front of you there was a dresser and a small shelf fixed to the wall a little higher, which was empty. To the left of the room was a large, plush armchair behind which another lamp was fixed to the wall and a fancy oak coffee table which matched the rest of the furniture. Above the chair, was a porthole like window, hexagonal in shape, but high enough to not allow for escape but for the warmth of daylight to seep into the space.

A fucking studio apartment, that half of Boston would probably kill to own…and you were trapped in it. Well, certainly until you could think of a way to un-trap yourself so to speak.

You looked back at him and decided to keep pressing your luck a little. There were things you needed, starting with the bathroom, and you were damned if you were going to let him degrade you even more than he already had by letting you piss yourself.

“There are things I’m going to need.” You spoke, taking care to keep your voice neutral, attempting to avoid outwardly displaying the desperation you were feeling “A pee and a shower for one” you gestured with your head to the small bathroom.

“Well if you’re gonna behave, I’ll undo this.” He reached down and jangled the chain that was attached to the shackle round your ankle.

“Clothes too…”

“The closet is full.” He said simply “But you have to behave, Sweetheart, or you go right back on the chain.

You grit your teeth. Sweetheart, you were no more his sweetheart than he was Harlan’s favorite grandchild. “Like I have a choice.”

“You do.” He said simply “Behave or not.”

You let out a frustrated growl “I told you I was gonna, now just undo the fucking dog collar on my ankle.”

“Ooh, so feisty.” Ransom mocked and you glared at him.

With a chuckle he stood up and pulled the key out of his pocket, undoing the shackle round your ankle and stood back slightly. You moved and shuffled to the edge of the bed where he watched as you rose to your legs. However, after the ordeal you’d been through the night before, plus your no doubt whacky blood sugar level, your head span a little and you staggered forward. Ransom caught you, both his hands hooking under your arms as he helped you steady yourself, his touch surprisingly gentle as his hands slid down to your ribs, thumbs brushing underneath your breasts and you looked at him, blinking. His action had caught you off guard and if the look on his face was anything to go by it had caught him off guard too. There was a moment where you stood still before you remembered exactly what was going on and with an angry scoff you raised both your hands, palms flat on his chest and shoved him as hard as you could.

It didn’t move him much, a half a step back or so, but it was enough to make a point. The unexpected softness on his face turned to anger and a split second later his right hand was round your throat.

“I'm warning you…” he snarled, his large fingers flexing causing his grip to tighten, around your throat. He gave a sharp squeeze, not enough to cut off your airway, instead serving as a threat, telling you he could if he wanted to. He released his grip as the tears stung your eyes and he moved aside to allow you to move to the bathroom. You went as quickly as you could and once you were there you made to shut the door.

Only there wasn’t one. “Why the fuck is there no door?” you turned and faced him.

“Because I won’t clean up a dead body.” He shrugged “So before you get any dumb ideas, anything that could make you think about a means to an end isn’t in this room either.”

You looked at him, frowning before you realised what he meant and you shook your head. “Oh trust me, I’m not about to kill myself over you.”

“Good.” He said simply, “You have 10 minutes” he said, leaning on the frame where the door should have been.

“You’re not watching me pee, Hugh!”

At that his face darkened “Call me Hugh one more time, I dare you, Sweetheart.” His voice was laced with venom as his eyes flashed dangerously, but despite all that you couldn’t help yourself. It was the only weapon you had in your arsenal to deploy.

“Hugh.” you spat, raising an eyebrow.

His jaw clenched and in two large strides he was on you, his hand grabbing your forearm as he yanked you across the bathroom, your feet skidding on the tiles as you struggled for traction on the floor. You yelled out at the pain of his grip but no sooner had it started it stopped as he flung you unceremoniously into the shower cubicle. Your knees and hip collided painfully with the tray and you gave a scream as a torrent of freezing cold water hit you, soaking your sweater dress. You gasped and spluttered, struggling to your feet, the cold making your chest contract and he looked at you, his face back to its stony calm expression.

“10 minutes” he repeated.

He turned to go and in a fit of rage you peeled the icy, sodden jersey dress off and flung it at him. It hit him square in the back before it slid to the floor, splattering on the tiles in a sopping mess. You saw him take a deep breath, his broad shoulders rippling under his thermal ribbed top as he stood up square and turned to face you as you stood, teeth chattering in the still cold spray in nothing but your bra and laddered thermal tights.

“You’re really testing my patience, Sweetheart.” He intoned darkly, before he cocked an eyebrow “9 and a half minutes.” He left the bathroom and headed into the main room, and you turned away instantly cranking up the heat on the shower. As it warmed you through, the water beating down on you, you reached for the shower gel which was on a small shelf in the corner of the cubicle. You scrubbed and scrubbed, not caring how much you used, attempting to rid yourself of the dirty feeling of him as you recalled his hands all over you, his cock violating you in the way it had. You didn’t stop the tears falling, your resolve breaking, as you turned your face into the spray, allowing it to hide your tears, before you washed your hair in the shampoo and conditioner. Eventually, when you’d done everything you could, you turned off the water, took a deep breath and squeezed your hair out before stepping out of the shower. Your eyes instinctively went to the doorway and you were relieved. You couldn’t see Ransom, which meant he didn’t have an eye-line directly into the shower, awarding you some level of privacy at least.

You grabbed a towel which you wrapped around yourself, before you took another and used it to squeeze your hair before you pulled it back into a messy bun out of the way, and stepped out of the bathroom.

“That was 11 minutes.” Ransom said simply as you emerged into the main area of the basement “I’ll let the 90 seconds slide.”

You glared at him as he sat in the armchair, his broad frame filling it, right leg crossed over his left, an I don't give a fuck look about his face, and you knew at that moment you had never hated anyone more in your life than you hated him right then. You turned towards the closet and began to route through, the tears filling your eyes again as you concentrated on finding something to wear. You pulled a few things out, checking the tags. Not only did the prices shock you (it was all high end, designer stuff- what else would the spoilt, trust fund prick buy) but it was all your size. Which unnerved you no end. Pushing that to the back of your mind, as after all in the situation you were in it was the least of your worries, eventually you settled on a simple pale blue cashmere sweater, and a pair of jeans.

“Underwear?” you turned and looked at him. He nodded to the drawers built into the bottom of the closet and you opened it, taking a breath. Of course it would all be lace, sexy. You picked the most modest pair of black, lace French-style briefs you could find and the matching bra, tossing the lot onto the bed. You looked at him, cocking your eyebrow and he mimicked the action, gesturing with his hand.

“Don’t mind me.” The dismay washed over you as you realised what he meant and you took a deep breath “You’re gonna sit there and watch?”

“Yup.” He replied simply, popping the p loudly.

You bowed your head, knowing there was no point turning your back on him, he’d just force you to turn round. As you stared to pat yourself dry though your towel, you blinked back the tears as for some reason this felt far more humiliating and degrading that what he’d done to you last night.

****

Ransom wasn’t sure he’d ever exercised self-control like this, he normally just bought (or took) what he wanted, and before he’d wanted nothing more than to trace the beads of water which moved down her neck and back, collecting in the towel as she rifled through the closet. She reached for the panties first, and attempted to shimmy them on under the towel and he gave a click of his tongue.

“Oh no doll.” He smirked, “lose it.”

She glared at him, and he simply held her gaze, not looking away and eventually he saw her shoulder sag as she reached up with a shaking hand and unhooked the edge of the towel which was tucked in on itself and let it fall to the floor. He gave a loud hum of approval as he took her in, her long-lithe legs up to her hips, the curve of her waist, pert breasts and delicate shoulders and collar bone. She swallowed on air and he watched her throat bob, and he instantly found himself thinking how good she’d look swallowing something else. He shifted slightly in his seat, the crotch of his jeans now feeling a little tight thanks to his semi-hard cock, and she reached for the lace briefs stepping into them. As she shimmied them up, her breasts jiggled a little and he gave an inward groan. For a second he thought about stopping her, taking her there and then but now wasn’t the time. They had things to discuss, certain rules she needed to understand.

Plus, the waiting and the anticipation would simply heighten the pleasure later when he finally did fuck her again.

He remained still as she pulled on the rest of the clothes before she turned to him, her cheeks adorably flushed.

“Hairbrush?” she asked.

Ransom nodded to the dresser opposite the bed and she moved over towards it, opening one of the drawers. She reached in and pulled the item out, dragging it through her hair before she braided it quickly and then turned to him expectantly.

“Sit.” He said, gesturing to the bed. She did as she was told, sinking down onto the edge of it, her hands clasped in her laps, fingers of her right hand pulling at the ones in her left nervously.

“Ok…” he leaned forward, his hands resting on his knees as he looked at her “Here’s how it’s gonna work.”

At his words Y/N looked at him, and then her hands released each other and she folded her arms, crossing her legs on the bed, chewing on her cheek with a sullen look on her face. The look of someone that really didn’t want to listen but had no option.

Such a petulant brat.

“You’re gonna do what I tell you, when I tell you.” Ransom spoke calmly and authoritatively “If I want you, I’m gonna have you.” At that she took a shaky breath but her eyes remained on his as he continued “You behave, you’ll get rewarded. If you don’t, you’ll be punished.”

“Punished?” she sputtered. “What could possibly be a worse punishment than this?” she waved her hand and Ransom allowed himself a chuckle.

Oh, Doll, you have no idea…

“Do you really want to know?” he asked, cocking an eyebrow up.

“No.” she said, hanging her head slightly.

“Smart move.” He nodded.

“Anything else?” she looked back at him, the defiance once more filling her features.

“Yes, don’t call me Hugh.”

At that she smirked and he felt a flash of annoyance “Sorry, am I amusing you?”

“Nope.” She shook her head quickly, the smirk fading as quick as it had appeared.

“Good.” He said, his palms slapping his thighs as he stood up.

“Is that it?”

“For now.” He nodded.

“Do I get to make any rules?”

Ransom hesitated, and looked at her. He had to hand it to her, she was gutsy but that was part of the reason she was hear after all. He shook his head, chuckling slightly “This isn’t a negotiation.”

“Can I ask you for things?”

“I just said, this isn’t a negotiation.” He started to get a little bit irked at her attitude now, “You behave, you get things.”

“So you’re gonna leave me down here with nothing? No TV, no books, no stereo?”

“Behave and I’ll think about it.” He replied simply and when she sighed he knew she understood that arguing and bargaining with him was futile.

Ransom Drysdale bargained with no one.

“You know…” he said, stepping towards the bed and she instantly took a deep breath, shying away a little. The fact he had so much power over her was exhilarating and he smiled, stopping a foot or so away from the edge of the bed, his large frame towering over her. “I should shackle you again, for your back chatting and slapping me in the back with your wet clothes but I’m fair. I’ll let that go. I hadn’t explained my rules.”

She blinked up at him and he nodded towards the bathroom. “Put your dirty stuff in the hamper. I’ll be back later.”

As he strode towards the door he could have sworn he heard her mumble something, something that sounded suspiciously like she’d called him a prick. He stopped, smirking, before he fixed a hard look on his face and turned round.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” She said quickly

“Thought not.” He nodded, and with that he turned and left, locking the numerous bolts on the door behind him.

**** With a lack of anything else to do you cleaned up the water from the bathroom floor and tossed everything into the hamper like you’d been told to do and then, taking advantage of your new found “freedom” so to speak you set about exploring every single nook and cranny of your ‘cell’. You found the bathroom was fully stocked with all sorts of toiletries, sanitary products (fuck, you didn’t even want to think about what he was going to do to get his sordid little kicks when Aunt Flow came to visit in 3 weeks or so), there was a little make up as well in the drawer in the vanity unit that you’d spotted before and you pulled it out to examine it, once again finding it to be not your usual brand but high end all the same. Finding all this was only compounding your confusion as to what the hell his goal was in all this, but as you had realised before until he decided to show you those cards, you would simply be playing a guessing game.

In the drawers under your bed you found a few different sets of linen which was a relief as it meant you weren’t going to be at his mercy as to when you could change your bedding. Given what had happened the night before, you were half tempted to change them again but you hesitated and decided to wait until later, because you had a sinking feeling he was going to take you again, especially given his declaration earlier.

“If I want you, I’m gonna have you.”

If that was how your life was going to go for the foreseeable, you’d be going through a hell of a lot of bedding if you changed it every time he fucked you. Much more than was contained in the drawers anyway.

Pushing that horrible thought from your head, you took a deep breath, focussing on staying calm, staying collected, staying alive. She needed her wits, her strength, her continued ability of self preservation. And, given the fact that he's murdered before, you weren't entirely trusting his word of not wanting to kill you. You closed the drawers and then settled yourself down on the floor at the side of the bed nearest the arm chair and low coffee table indulging in a few yoga stretches and the like in an attempt to ease out your still aching muscles. You were sat on the floor, with your legs extended, reaching for your toes when he came back and with a little smirk on his face handed you a book.

“For the boredom.”

You blinked and then took it from him, shaking your head as you realised it was one of his granddads, most likely his idea of a joke. And what was more it was one you’d already read.

Nevertheless, not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you thanked him and then stood up and dropped into the chair, opening the cover. How long had passed you had no idea, but you were a good few chapters on when the trust fund ass wipe re-emerged, and the smell of food wafted across the room. He set a tray down on the bed and jerked his head towards it, in a silent instruction for you to vacate the seat. With a roll of your eyes you tried to get comfortable on the bed to eat with said tray balanced on your knee and with an exasperated groan you looked at him.

“Is there any chance of getting some form of table and chair so I can eat off it and not where I’m expected to sleep?”

He looked at you for a second, before he shrugged “I’ll think about it, depending on how you behave.”

The chicken was dry, but you ate it anyway, remembering your earlier thoughts about staying strong. As you chewed you watched him where he sat in the chair in the corner of the room, looking at something on his phone. Having had time to think things over even more, you knew you needed to play this clever, get him on your side, let him believe that you could be trusted if you wanted to stand any chance of getting out of here. With a deep breath you supressed the desire you had to simply remain silent, sullen even and spoke.

“Are you not eating?” you asked him and he looked at you, surprise on his face.

“I had a big lunch.” He responded simply.

“Well I hope it was better than this.” You arranged your face into the best playful look you could muster “Because, no offence, it sucks.”

Ransom looked at you, before he snorted “Yeah, cooking isn’t my forte.”

“Maybe I could do it.” You offered “I’m not a bad chef.”

His eyes locked on yours and you concentrated on keeping the look on your face innocent as he studied you. Eventually he spoke again “Maybe. If you behave.”

Again, the focus on your behaviour. He clearly wanted you to be good, compliant maybe. Bolstered by the slight progress you were making into maybe understanding what you needed to do you continued. “So, did you go anywhere nice? For lunch I mean.”

“The Harbor.” He responded “Food was good, company was slightly irritating.”

“Company?” the surprise in your tone was genuine

“I met my mother.”

“Oh.” You replied, looking back down at the plate as you blinked back the tears, the thought of your own mother filling your head. She would be beside herself now. You took a deep breath, you might be able to be compliant but you were damned if you were going to show him any weakness, that’s what he wanted. Instead, you took another bite of your meal and looked up at him. “That must have been nice for you.”

“Is that sarcasm?” Ransom asked in an amused tone and you rolled your eyes.

“No, I was being serious. Mind you, you don’t strike me as being close to your family so…” you shrugged and shovelled a soggy piece of broccoli into your mouth.

“You’re smart, we're not.” He shrugged “But she wanted to know how I was getting on.”

“Bet that conversation was positively riveting.” You smirked “And that was sarcasm by the way.”

Ransom scoffed “It wasn’t bad to be honest, that was until she steered it around to Marta.”

“Marta?” you frowned, pondering what on earth could have brought their conversation around to that. “Why did you talk about her?”

“What is this Jeopardy?” he arched an eyebrow at you and you rolled your eyes. “Why not, I'll take Drysdale family politics for my share of the inheritance, Alec…”

“Watch your mouth, Sweetheart.” His tone was warning and his face stony. You swallowed and looked down at the plate.

“Sorry.” You said, keeping up your act. Silence fell again and you finished the last of your dinner and set the tray on the nightstand.

Ransom took a deep breath “Seeing as you’re so interested, Marta has approached my mother and the family about holding a memorial for Harlan.” You looked at him, and his eyebrows raised. “Ironic huh, the bitch who stole what was mine is planning a memorial for my grandad when she’s responsible for his death.”

At that you scoffed, he really was unbelievable and just like that your resolve to be nice started to ebb away at his utter narcissism “Are you for real? You’re responsible for Harlan’s death, and as for taking what was yours, you never had anything, none of you did! It was Harlan’s, you didn’t earn it.” Ransom glowered at you but you continued, shaking your head with a derisive laugh. “You know, the fact he would rather leave it to his nurse than his own family says more about you all than it does about her."

“What did you just say?” His voice was low, and there was an unmistakable flash of anger on his face.

“You heard me. Not that I expect any of that to bother you, Hugh, you do and take what you want anyway and fuck whoever gets hurt in the crossfire…” at that you gestured around the room, “prime example…”

There was a pause and in an instance you realised your mistake. You’d called him inadequate and worse, had broken one of those fucking rules, called him Hugh. His whole demeanour had changed, he was pissed. His jaw was set, his eyes dark, his entire body rigid.

Shit.

In a flash he was off the chair. You reacted equally as quick, jumping off the bed in an attempt to put some distance in between you. Why, you had no idea, it wasn’t like you were going to stop him, but maybe if you could buy some time you could talk him down as you backed toward the door. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” but your apology was cut off as he rounded the bed, grabbing your hair painfully, yanking your braid down so your head was tilted back, looking at him. You let out a scream of pain and moved your hands to grab at his wrists “Oww, shit…you’re hurting me!”

“Like I care.” He snarled “Now, we can do this the easy way or the hard way.”

That predatory look was back on his face and you knew you were in for it again, and your apologetic front flew completely from your mind. Like hell you were doing this without a fight.

“Fuck you.” You spat back.

“Hard way it is.” He shrugged.

His hand tightening around your hair, he manhandled you into the middle of the bed easily. You yelled, bucked, lashed out but as with the previous night you were simply no match for him. He easily pinned you down with his knees clamped either side of your hips, holding you in place as he yanked your sweater over your head, pulling it down your arms so they were pinned behind you back. It was uncomfortable but did the job perfectly you realised to your horror, because you couldn’t move your arms at all.

Ransom then moved, his large hands grabbing at the button on your waistband and you continued to struggle, trying to buck your hips but once more to no avail. He had your jeans and panties down to your knees easily, before he flipped you over so your face was pushed into the pillow where it muffled your screams slightly.

One hand reached up, sliding round the front of your neck and he squeezed. This time it was harder than he had done earlier that day, and the pressure increased and increased, slowly shutting off your airway. You gasped, tears stinging in your eye as you desperately tried to move but it was pointless. Then, suddenly he eased off, and you drew in a harsh gasp of air, coughing and spluttering, still conscious that his fingers remained around your throat.

“Stop fighting it.” He instructed, his other hand sliding over your entrance, making you pull away from his touch, but to no avail as the hand that was on your throat slid down your spine and twisted the sweater, tightening your make shift restraints, jerking your arms even further behind your back. Your upper arms and shoulders screamed in protest and you let out a little sob of pain as he moved both his hands to your hips, tugging them up slightly. One hand trailed over your ass before he plunged two fingers into you and you jerked forward at the intrusion. Ransom groaned before he leaned over, his lips brushing your ear. “I can feel you. Your body doesn’t lie, Sweetheart.”

You turned your head away, pressing your cheek into the pillow and Ransom uncurled himself from over you and you felt him shift behind you. The tell-tale clanking of a belt buckle, followed by a zip and the rustling of fabric told you exactly what was coming. Despite your resolve to give him nothing, a choked whimper escaped your mouth and you turned you face, pressing it further into the pillow in an attempt to stifle your sobs.

“Oh no…” he said, one hand curling into your braid, yanking hard and jerking your head back. You cried out, your body was contorted in such an unnatural shape, back arched, arms pinned behind your spine, head jerked back. “I wanna hear you.”

He shuffled a little, and you felt the top of his cock teasing your entrance and then without warning he powered forward, stuffing you full, letting out a rumble of a growl as he did so.

“So fucking tight…” he grit out as he withdrew, then plunged straight back in, jerking your body as he did so. He took a few more deep, slow thrusts before he picked up the pace and began to piston into you, relentlessly. You felt each thrust, the slap of his balls slamming towards your clit. It hurt, just as it had done last time. He had zero self-control, grunting and growling as he bottomed out with every motion. The hand that was gripping your hip went beyond bruising, his dull nails biting at your skin as the other wound tighter around your braid, the odd angle of your body gritting at your joints. You were fighting tears and sobs as your body continued to betray you, soaking your walls, allowing his cock to slide in and out effortlessly. The hand against your hip glided along your side as a deep thrust came and you could feel it grip your breast between the mattress. His thumb brushing against your nipple through your bra. The friction of his piston thrusts, his hand forcing your bralete against your nipples and the yank of your hair was driving your body into sensory overload and filled you with burning sensations that verged on painful. The tip of his cock scrapped at your insides, no doubt bruising you. Your tears burned and your throat begged with dry thirst.

“Can feel you, Sweetheart…” he groaned, as he bottomed out, rotating his hips slightly making you cry out involuntarily “You feel close…you sound close…such a needy little slut.”

“I’m not a slut…” you sob, the feeble protest sounding as pathetic as you felt.

"Fucking look like one to me..." he growled, his hips rotating again, the burn in your stomach was now getting to hard to ignore. “Please…” you begged, “Just….stop…”

He answered your plea by driving deeper into you, picking up his pace once more and you felt yourself beginning to tumble.

"Oh God," the words flew from your mouth as your body shook violently and you took on your overload of orgasm and sensory extremes. You sobbed as your body betrayed you again with this man. Your mind screaming for understanding, your insides begging for more.

“Fuck…Sweetheart…” Ransom let out a groan as he picked up the pace, before after a few more deep thrusts, the hand that was holding your hair let go. Your head fell forward as you felt the warm ribbons of his come streak up your back before he released his hold on your hip and you collapsed onto the bed, your heart and self-respect shattered.

Every inch of your body ached thanks to the way you’d been contorted and as you lay still, trying to regain some control of your limbs you felt his hands press either side of your head and gave a sob as he leaned lean over your body, his ears brushing your lips.

“I'll take you like that every fucking day if I have to until you give in. Because you will.”

At that the feel of his chest that had been pressing into your back was gone and you heard a rustle of clothing and then footsteps across the floor before the door opened and his deep baritone filled the room once more.

“I would shackle you but I don’t think we need that anymore. You’re not going anywhere.” His tone was almost playful, like he was toying with you, teasing you. “I suggest you take a bath, you’re gonna be sore. That is, once you manage to work your way out of that sweater.”

And with a click followed by the familiar sliding of bolts you were sealed in your prison and you finally gave in to your tears as the sheer helplessness of your situation crashed over you in waves.

****

Part 3

#murder he wrote #js haunted house 2020 #dark ransom drysdale #dark ransom drysdale x reader #dark ransom x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale x you #ransom drysdale fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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bakugou-jpg · 5 years ago

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“Breathe” [Kuroo x reader] Karasuhoes server collab

Hello, hello, helloo !! This is my part of the karasuhoes server collab, the masterlist to all the other amazing and beautiful stories the other wrote can be found here so make sure to check those out too :)

This was really fun to participate in and i’m very glad to have been able to be part of such a fun little community🥺 Hope you guys’ll enjoy this thing i made !

Also pLEASE forgive the fact that this banner is pretty bad. I forgot that i had to make a new one and made this one at camp, but i’ll replace it soon with a better one😭🤣

Prompt: “Hey, just look at me. Breathe.”

Warnings: TW:some sort of panic attack

Words: 3407

____________________________

Breathe

Dating Kuroo was like running away from the rain late at night after coming back from a big city by train. Getting out of the train and walking onto the platform only to notice its raining pretty hard, the noise of the droplets hitting the ground echoeing in your ears.Counting down from 5 to 1 before bolting off, the sound of shoes hitting the wet pavement being somewhat pleasant while laughing and screaming at the same time before rushing into the car being absolutely soaked. Sitting in silence for a few seconds, catching your breath before bursting into laughter.

Its the smell of gasoline late at night while looking at him through the car windows as he's pumping gas into the car, staring off into space for a moment before snapping back to his thoughts and catching you staring. Smiling in response and shooting a wink at you.

Dating Kuroo, was so much fun and comforting. There was no one who could make you laugh at silly science pun pick-up lines like he could, no one who knew your exact order at every single restaurant like the back of their hand and especially no one who knew how to hold and kiss you just the way you liked it like Kuroo did.

The two of you met in highschool, his third year and your second. Being friends with your neighbor, Yaku, seemed to have its perks especially after tagging along with some of their games and catching the attention of the rooster.

A couple of dates, victories, anniversaries and a ring on your finger later the two of you were sharing an apartment together.

Kuroo had a great job, one that paid quite well and allowed the two of you to go on vacation abroad a couple of times. You were still in college, finishing your last year of school and starting work at a place you had your internship at which happened to offer you a job afterwards at. It felt too good to be true, all of it.

Coming home from a rough day only to find a freshly made meal waiting for you on the table, waking up to find your head locked in between an arm and a leg wrapped around your lower back because he once again used you like a body pillow and had his own head pushed between a pillow, finding little knick knacks on your desk he bought cause they reminded him if you and solving the who's doing the dishes part with rock-paper-scissors but when you lose he'd still be by your side drying everything off.

Hours worth of paragraphs could be written about how fun and loving domestic life with Kuroo was.

"(Y/n)? I'm home!"

With his tie loosely hanging around his neck, the top buttons of his shirt open and one of his shoes slightly untied Kuroo had entered the house. His face was adored with a few droplets of sweat mixed with rain from outside after having ran from the car towards the front door, not wanting to get wet and all.

It was usually you who came home later, but today Kuroo was out of town and had a long drive home so he hadn't been able to be back for dinner on time.

It didn't take long until he had kicked off his shoes and got rid of his blazer, throwing it on some boxes so he could "clean it later".

He scrunched his eyebrows together in confusion, wondering about the reason why you hadn't greeted him yet. Normally you'd be calling out for him immediately or, if it had been a particularly hard and long day for him, you'd be by his side in a second taking him into your arms while running your fingers through his hair.

Perhaps, you went out to go to the shop or your parents? No, your coat was hanging on the coatrack with still fresh droplets of rain on it from outside and your shoes were neatly placed underneath it.

"(Y/n)..?"

Kuroo entered the living room, socks softly dragging over the smooth wood floor of the apartment. While he was busy taking off his tie, leaving him only in a blouse with rolled up sleeves, he could notice how there were two bags of groceries scattered over the kitchen counters. It seemed as if you hadn't bothered to even notice one of the peaches had rolled onto the ground and how it seemed that one of the eggs cracked.

Kuroo scanned the living room, noticing how you probably didn't even plop down on the couch after he left the apartment . Everything was still the same, empty cup that once contained his vitamin juice still there and the cushion he used to playfully hit you on the head with still on top of the head rest.

"Hey, babe? Are you home?"

Once again there was no reply and all he could hear was the soft buzzing of the dishwasher in the kitchen.

Perhaps, you were asleep? Or showering, maybe you were cold after going through the rain and were soaked so went to shower immediately which would explain the hurry.

A small grin made its way onto his face as he hopped off into the bedroom in his search for you.

He tiptoed to the bedroom, sneaking his way into his most treasured room of the apartment, being very careful that if you were to be sleeping he wouldn't be waking you up and could just look at you for a few seconds because god did Kuroo love the way you looked oh so peaceful and soft whenever you slept. It was a sight he could never get enough of, even if there might of have been some drool on the corner of your mouth.

Kuroo softly pushed the door open, a slight creak could be heard through the door but it wasn't too loud. The curtains were closed, perhaps you really were asleep? He was sure you had opened the curtains this morning which was something that had woken him up abruptly.

"You sleeping, baby?" His voice spoke softly before he made its way inside. Once his eyes had gotten used to the light, he could see how your clothes were scattered over the ground. It seemed like they were a bit wet, meaning you had been in the rain on your way back, and they left a trail towards the bathroom door.

It didn't take long before the edges of his mouth stretched out into a smirk and in a split second he had marched towards the door, his ear against the white wooden surface to pick up any sound coming from inside. "(Y/n)? I'm home, can i come in?" Kuroo called out, knocking softly while his other hand reached for the knob.

Kuroo lost the sense of privacy between the two of you a long time ago. I mean you two had seen each other naked before, what more was there to hide? You'd be taking a shower and he'd casually walk in to use the bathroom or the opposite way of course. You even caught him walking into the kitchen butt-naked in the morning. It was..interesting.

He'd always be able to walk into the bathroom while you were there, no matter what you were doing. Nobody else had the key to your apartment and if Kuroo brought someone home he'd always send you a text beforehand to avoid any embarrassing moments.

..so why was it locked now?

At first Kuroo didn't think much of it, maybe you did it on accident?

"(Y/n)? Are you okay..?"

His voice was laced with worry but ,once again, there still was the possibility that you had locked it on accident. He did it too sometimes, it was a reflex from when he lived at home that sometimes randomly resurfaced.

Though, Kuroo couldn't hear any water running..but you had to be inside since the door was locked after all..why weren't you responding?

Did u slip and fall? Were you okay?

Kuroo could feel how his chest tightened and all feeling he had in his upper body sank to his toes. His hands were sweaty, the loose tie around his neck suddenly feeling way too tight for his liking.

He leaned his forehead against the wooden door and started fiddling with the doorknob, hoping you'd atleast respond with a whimper or maybe a knock back. After all, you'd still be okay..right?

"..H-hey, baby can u open the door for me? Can you do that? I'm coming in okay?"

Although the door was locked, there was still a way to come inside from the outside. You see, though it was very tiny, there was a little button at the bottom of the door knob you could twist if you used something thin, like a coin or keys.

Kuroo found out when the two of you were roughhousing. He was obviously winning, after all the man had years of volleybal behind him and still worked out frequently. But, he had a weakness that would give you just a few seconds to get away and that weakness were his sensitive sides. It only took one pinch of your fingers and he flinched and started cackling, something which allowed you to run towards the bathroom while locking yourself up.

You thought you were safe, a feeling of pride washing over you and you settled yourself on the closed toiletseat. Everything seemed to lead to you having won, but the simple click of the doorlock turning made your heart drop and a few seconds later Kuroo stepped inside with a devilish grin on his face and a penny in between his fingers.

Long story short, you were absolutely screwed.

"Shit, shit, shit, fuck, fuck.."

Trashing through the drawers, Kuroo hurriedly looked for something he could use to open that damned lock. Within seconds, he fished out a very tiny key out of the nightstand and was quick to make his way towards the bathroom door.

"I'm coming in now"

...

"(Y/n)..?" Kuroo muttered, a wave of relief washing over him once he saw that you appeared to be okay physically. A second wave of worry washed over him the moment he saw your tear stained face looking up at him.

The sight of you sitting on the cold tile floor, your bathrobe hugging your body and your still slightly damp hair dripping some water on the floor was something he didn't expect to see. You were sobbing at this point, only now did he notice how you were hiding one of your hands from his sight. It killed him, seeing you like this, especially since he didn't know what happened and countless of possibilities ran through his head..why didn't you open the door?

Kuroo quickly rushed to your side and wrapped his arms around you, burrying your face into his shoulder while sitting down. He couldn't care if his suit got wet or if his head bumped into the sink, all he wanted right now was to hold you and help you calm down as he could hear how you slowly started choking on your sobs and hyperventilate.

He backed up a little, giving you some space to breathe and softly rubbed your back. "Hey, hey, its okay..I'm here now, its okay. Ssshh, its okay baby." Kuroo whispered, a voice oh so soft and comforting that always pulled at the strings of your heart. A voice that felt like a warm cup of chocolate milk with marshmallows that started melting.

At this point you were shaking, the clear thoughts you once had turning into a mushy blurry mess and all you could do was cry and panic. You wanted to go away, wait no you didn't. But you did, you could run, you shouldn't. Maybe you should leave without saying anything, wait no no what were you saying. Fuck it was getting hot-

“Hey, just look at me. Breathe.”

Breathe.

Kuroo was holding your face in his hands, basically forcing you to keep your attention to him and him only. His thumbs caressed your cheeks, wiping away the tears that were leaving your eyes like niagra falls. The way his warm hazel eyes peered into your own with such love yet worry made your head start clearing up. His touch was comforting, it was okay. Everything was okay.

Pulling away from him, you dug the arm you were hiding further into your lap. "Tetsurou, i..I, i'm really..Fuck" You cursed under your breath while throwing your head back, bumping it into the wall behind you while taking a deep breath. The way Kuroo's eyes were stuck onto you, felt like a thick smoke cloud. You couldn't get rid of it and it was killing you slowly, you wanted it gone yet it made you feel at ease in a way.

The bathroom suddenly felt a lot smaller and you suddenly realized why you were crying in the first place, old worries resurfacing and tears prickling at the corner of your eyes. Unconciously, you started pulling your hand closer and closer to your body, something which didn't get unnoticed by Kuroo as you felt his hand slowly reach out to it and wrapping around it.

"I-i'm so sorry.." You whimpered, a fresh new wave of tears falling down your cheeks.

It took awhile for him to register what exactly was going on, especially since he was confused about why you were hiding it. He didn't even understand what exactly it was what he was looking at at first, but within seconds his mind put two and two together.

Staring at the three pregnancy tests in his hand, Kuroo's mind immediately went blank. The world around him disappeared, and all he could look at were the three different sticks that had either a || , ++ or read postive on it.

The thick silence was choking you up even more, the bad outcomes you imagined in your mind that you on life didn't hope to become reality suddenly feeling way too close to you. Maybe you really did have a reason to cry.

Kuroo slowly adverted his eyes from the sticks in his hands to you and he felt his heart hammer in his chest. "You..you're pregnant? Like, a baby, your- no OUR baby, growing inside of you. Do you..want to keep it?" He questioned, his hand reaching out for your own. The soft squeeze he gave once you accepted it made you feel at ease, the bad thought drifting away slowly again.

You nodded your head at his question, adverting your eyes to his chest. The world around you had stopped a long time ago, it was just you in the bathroom. The moment you had gotten home you didn't even bother to put the groceries away, the screaming in your head getting louder and louder with the minute becoming truely agonizing. The words 'You're just late' repeating over and over again getting louder with the second as you got closer to the bathroom.

At first you postponed it, taking a shower first and taking your absolute sweet time with it while scrubbing and scrubbing your skin as if you were trying to scrub away the panic that boiled in your chest. After having been in it for around 30 minutes you forced yourself out, not wanting the water bill going up just because you were feeling like a coward.

Peeing, had never been so difficult in your life. It wouldn't, you couldn't. It frustrated you extremely, never in your life had your bladder given up on you the most and when you needed her most she decided to let you down.

The minutes that followed were probably the worst. It felt like hours had passed, your reality slowing down like in an action movie when they'd shoot bullets at someone and they'd barely dodge them. Even after hearing the beep of one of the pregnancy tests, the more expensive one, had echoed through the bathroom you waited for atleast another 40 minutes before looking at it.

The truth is, Kuroo and you talked about a lot that involved your future. Kuroo always talked about how he wanted to buy a house, a big one with a beautiful garden where you could keep pretty colorful flowers and gaze at the stars at night. One with a porch and of course a swinging bench where the two of you would sit when you're all old and wrinkly with an old dog sitting at your feet. He'd talk about how he'd just know how good you'd look at your wedding, already talking about how he'd kiss you at the altar like he had never kissed you before.

All of those plans, plans for the future.

..yet there were never any words about kids.

The two of you weren't exactly too young anymore, after all you were responsible adults now, but you didn't except that if you were to ever have kids it would be right now. You weren't even sure what Kuroo thought of being a dad himself.

"I-i'm gonna be a dad? I'm actually gonna be a dad? We'll have to buy a house!"

With another nod of confirmation coming from you, Kuroo bursted out into laughter. It was a type of laughter you had enver heard before,if you were honest. It wasn't like his usual cackle, in all honesty it sounded more like a serial killer in a movie that was absolutely nuts and laughed wholeheartedly. You weren't even sure why he was laughing, heck Kuroo didn't even know himself.

The relief that had washed over him the moment he finally cleared his head was immeasurable. You were okay, like actually okay, and he was gonna be a dad? This was the first and last time he was happy about you crying. Fuck, he could even feel his eyes burn slightly.

Kuroo looked at you for a moment with a big grin and you could see how ecstatic he had gotten all of the sudden. The joy he held in his eyes was something you last saw when you proposed the idea of living together but even that wasn't on the level as this.

It didn't take long before you started mimicking his smile, all of the bad emotions gone within a second. The tears that once spilled out of your eyes due to panic and the uncertainty you felt not too long ago, had turned into ones of relief and happiness.

Before you could even comprehend about everything that was happening, Kuroo had grabbed the fabric of your bathrobe and pulled you closer to him. His lips immediately met yours, your noses slightly bumping into each other in the process but at that moment it didn't matter. The way his lips moved against yours made your knees weak and made you want to hold onto it forever. With his hand cupping your face, Kuroo only deepened the kiss before he pulled away again and rested his forehead against yours.

The two of you gazed into each other's eyes for a moment, no words exchanged, but with the way Kuroo was looking at you with the softest look he didn't have to. His thumb softly caressed your cheek and you could hear the way he sighed in relief as if breathing out all of his worries.

With another soft kiss to your lips, this time merely a peck but still comforting Kuroo held you close in his arms. His face burried into your freshly washed hair and his nose pressed against your temple. His mouth ghosted over your ear and you could feel his warm breath on your skin.

"..thank you"

Maybe agreeing with your friend that coming along to his volleybal practice hadn't been so bad after all, you'd have to thank Yaku properly once he came back. Meeting Kuroo really might of have been the best thing to happen to you.

Neither of you knew what the future would hold at this point and in all honesty it was quite scary, but you had Kuroo and Kuroo had you. You two didn't know how to actually prepare for such a big step in your life and along the way there were many doubts.

But coming home late at night to find Kuroo slow dancing with your daughter to an old song on the lp player, his face in awe as he looked down at how the girl on his hip that held onto her father's hand slowly started dozing off due to all the swaying might of have made you realize that sometimes,

Some things should just be left unplanned.

#kuroo x reader #kuroo x y/n #kuroo x you #kuroo imagine #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu!!#kuroo tetsuro #haikyuu fanfiction #karasuhoes

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michael-langdon-appreciation · 5 years ago

Text

Apocalypse After (Part 10)

Pairing: Michael Langdon x fem!reader

Summary: There was never any hope of saving Michael Langdon, never a chance to stop the apocalypse. The Antichrist was already too intertwined with his destiny when the reader met him all those years ago. But Mallory can go back and make things right and when the reader travels with her, an opportunity sparks to try and make things right after all.

Words: 3.1K

Warning: SMUT! A good old BJ, some handsy content,

A/N: I’m back and on a writer’s streak I hope will continue and that means updating my baby! I’m putting on my ‘Queen of Plot Twists’ hat for this one as an old enemy surfaces, sexy times happen and Y/N has a choice to make.

To no one’s surprise, Michael passes Telekinesis and Transmutation in record time. The library is so silent, I can hear the murmurs of Hawthorne’s students going about their evening activities. Zoe and Myrtle sit tight together on the couch, giving nothing away. Cordelia stands before the central fireplace, the flames lulling in the grate, by the piano stands Ariel and the Warlocks. I’m near the doorway, my task being to prevent any wayward students from disturbing the examination. That’s the compromise I had to make in order to watch.

Michael is centre-stage, his hands held behind his back. Only I can see how he twists and tugs at his fingers. As the Boy-Wonder carries out Divination, Cordelia’s eyebrows dip in her first, glimpse of worry. A book flies through the air and over to Behold. The Warlock stretches out his arm and his eyes fall to the title. Both John-Henry and Baldwin lean in to peek too. ‘Correct.’ Behold’s voice rings out and the Warlock’s fall into easy smirks.

‘Well done, Michael.’ Ariel brings his hands together.

‘Oh please,’ Myrtle dismisses with a wave of a yellow-gloved hand. ‘Our Zoe passed at least four wonders. This is nothing but child’s play.’

’Then let’s continue.’ Cordelia keeps her tone even, her eyes never leaving Michael. ‘We move onto Pyroken-‘

Before she can even finish, the fire leaps out at the Reigning Supreme. There’s a gasp from Zoe as Cordelia quickly moves out of the way. The Warlocks burst into a round of applause and I take the distraction as a chance to sneak over by the spiral stairs. Michael catches my movement, his chest puffing out as he catches sight of me. ‘Concilium?’ He asks, a lilt of amusement hanging in the air.

Cordelia nods slowly, ‘When you’re ready.’

She keeps on nodding, taking a couple seconds too long to stop. I can’t resist a smile at how Michael’s pushing her, my smile is a full on smirk watching the current Supreme walk forwards like a penguin.

‘My God.’ Myrtle breathes, all of us watching as Cordelia fights to get control of herself again.

I’ve been under Concilium myself. I know how helpless it feels, your mind fighting between what it knows is wrong and the balm of happiness that encourages you to follow the easiest, simple commands.

Sometimes, if the puppeteer is as strong as Michael, you just act.

Zoe stands abruptly and begins a routine of ‘heads, shoulders, knees and toes’ as Cordelia wrenches her hands back into a normal position and hurries back to her place at the fire. ‘Enough.’

I know that tone well enough to know Michael has pushed the Supreme to her last nerve. The Warlock’s smiles match my own, but the Witches look outraged. Myrtle’s spectacles flash in warning, a spell inches away from her lips.

‘There’s nothing wrong with friendly competition.’ Ariel, ever the smooth-talker steps forwards.

‘We’ll move to Vitalum Vitalis.’ Cordelia says, not even glancing at Ariel, but her eyes make one very deliberate sweep over to me. Michael follows her gaze and I find myself shrinking backwards.

This isn’t time for my war with Cordelia.

This is Michael’s time to shine.

I hope.

The Supreme moves to the piano and picks up a small white box. From inside she removes a tiny dead mouse and hands it to Michael. ‘Use your own life force and bring the mouse back to life.’

Michael accepts the mouse in his hand. His eyes become focused as he peers down at the mouse.

We wait.

Michael’s eyes flick to me and in that one look my stomach stills.

He can’t do it.

I purse my lips and breath out slowly. Michael’s quick to copy, lifting the mouse up for dramatic effect. His other hand covers the mouse’s tiny body, lips inches away.

His voice rings clear in my head, as scared as when I’d first met him.

I CAN’T DO IT!

No one is watching me, everyone’s gaze is on Michael. The Warlocks’ tug at their sleeves, their nerves building. Cordelia breathes in satisfaction and that does it for me. I narrow my focus, thinking of the poor little mouse.

Vitalum Vitalis, one of my strongest powers. I don’t even have to think.

Michael’s hands open, the little mouse running all over him, trying to hide up one of his sleeves. He covers his shock in a schooled calm and places the mouse back in the box. Cordelia walks swiftly over to inspect. Her shock more palpable than ever.

‘That’s six wonders,’ Baldwin’s nearly skipping round the room.

‘Yes.’ Cordelia sweeps her blonde hair over her shoulder, turning back to Michael. ‘Descensum. The most challenging of all Seven Wonders. Though I’m sure Mr Langdon would like a break, considering the last wonder was a bit of a challenge.’

‘His powers are still manifesting.’ Behold clips back immediately, ‘Breaks are a common occurrence in these tests and Michael has passed six in very quick succession.’

Michael remains quiet, observing everyone from a distance. He still looks ever so slightly shaken. He’s gripping onto his other wrist with a grip tight enough to cut off his blood circulation.

‘We will reconvene tomorrow at sunrise,’ Cordelia decides for the group. ‘There we shall see if Mr Langdon is indeed our next Supreme.’

She leaves quickly, cape swishing behind her. Zoe follows behind her like an ever so faithful lap dog. Myrtle however, glides over to me. ‘Your student is doing well.’ She commends.

‘He is.’ I mask my surprise, but Myrtle’s laugh follows regardless.

‘I may despise this place, but I’ve always had a nose for talent.’

‘You won’t accept him though.’

Myrtle tilts her head, ‘And what will we do, my dear? Allow him into Robichaux? It is an all girl’s school.’

‘I’m well aware.’

Her eyes fall behind my shoulder, ‘I suppose we shall have to see if Michael can succeed. I’m confident he has come so far because it is you Y/N, who have been tutoring him.’

‘She’s amazing.’ Michael steps forwards, standing beside me. He’s bold enough to slip his hand into mine.

Myrtle catches our exchange at once, ‘Well then, the rumour is true.’

‘I owe Y/N my life.’ Michael’s drawn himself upwards, his chin strong as he stares down at Myrtle. ‘She taught me what she learned from you. Without you, I fear my Y/N would have been at the mercy of Fiona.’

It takes Myrtle five whole seconds to recover, ‘Perhaps…if you are indeed destined to be our next Supreme…it will not be completely intolerable.’ She casts an eye over his uniform. ‘Perhaps have a google of Dolce and Gabanna.’

Michael’s confidence has soared, that or his eagerness. He pulls us to his room and the moment we’re inside he presses me up against it. His lips find mine immediately, my eyes slip shut at the taste, smell, feel of him.

‘You did that for me.’ He breathes, kissing me again. ‘I would have lost everything.’

‘I just…did it.’ I murmur, fingers gripping into his sleeves. ‘I heard you, in my head.’

His lips travel down my neck places hot, wet kisses as Michael’s hand lifts my neck so he has better access to my flesh.

His mouth hovers over my pulse point, ‘Every time I think I can’t owe you enough, you go and do something new,’ He breathes.

‘Guardian Angel.’

Michael’s hand unbuttons the sheer black blouse I’m wearing. It slips off my shoulders, ‘I still believe it.’

I moan as his lips start suckling at my collarbone. My chest arches upwards, Michael’s hands running down my back and tugging me tight against him. I can feel every movement he makes, golden curls blurring my vision as he decorates my skin with his lips, teeth, tongue. My hands run through his hair and he groans, surging up to kiss my lips again. I pull us towards his bed and lie down, letting him crawl on top of me.

My shirt disappears, followed by Michael’s blazer, shirt and cravat. His skin is there right in front of me.

‘All for you.’ He finishes the thought in my head.

His eyes have ensnared mine, light and blue.

Eager.

He’s still a boy, but Michael Langdon is becoming a man. I always knew this would happen. My bra joins our ever growing pile of clothes, Michael’s hands roaming my breasts before lowering his head to take one of my nipples between his teeth.

‘Michael’ I whisper, legs writhing beneath him as my hands work his belt free. He’s hard between my legs.

‘I’m not gonna stop.’ He promises, ‘Not until I have you.’

I kiss him, our tongues tangling as I unzip him and take him out. His eyes widen, newfound pleasure hitting him as I roll us over. I kiss down his chest, taking Michael’s slacks with me as I tug them and his boxers off. His eyes follow every move I make as I take him in my hand and start stroking. He’s thick enough for my fingers to just not touch and long enough for him to be a stretch.

It’s old territory for me as I kiss each of Michael’s ribs, watching how he shudders like always. ‘Oh God.’ He whines, ‘Oh Jesus.’

‘Careful.’

His head falls to the side, intimacy washing through his veins as I take him apart underneath me. ‘It’s sooo good.’ His tip is leaking, coating my hand in his pleasure. My tongue licks a stripe from his base to the tip. ‘Y/N!’

I take him down my throat, slow. Swallowing him down inch by inch. Michael’s sobbing and gasping and lost to everything but his own sensations. I smile as I release him, sucking gently on his tip. He trembles again, eyes big as a trail of spit connects my lips to his cock. ‘Do it again.’

‘This?’ I deep-throat him again and Michael’s groan gets louder. He slaps a hand over his mouth, hips rising up for more. I bob up and down, letting him get used to pleasure, to feeling my warm mouth enclosed around him. Michael lets out one low rumble, ‘Gonna….gonnaaaaaaa.’ I slide him out of my mouth, watching Michael’s cock spurt out thick ropes of white. He shudders, watching his body for as long as he can before his eyes slip shut.

I slide away and run a small towel under some warm water. I bring it back to him, Michael already recovering. He sits up on his forearms, watching as I wipe away his cum. I toss the towel in the bathroom and our clothes in Michael’s hamper. I crawl into bed beside him, Michael scooting over to give me room. He pulls me into his arms, my head falling onto his chest. ‘You didn’t?’

‘Not this time.’ I murmur, looking up at him. ‘But next time, will be different.’

Michael smirks, ‘It will indeed.’

‘I can’t keep borrowing Zoe’s clothes.’ I say, ‘I think she’d close her door on my face if I asked again.’

‘I’ve already told you,’ Michael’s fingers lazily plait my hair. ’You can wear anything of mine.’

‘Maybe when Ariel gives you his credit card again.’ I smile, ‘But I can’t be going round wearing your things. It would set the wrong idea.’

‘I think after tonight everyone has the right idea.’ A silence falls between us, ‘You don’t want to, do you?’

‘I want this.’ I reaffirm, reaching up to kiss him again. ‘I want you.’

He kisses my forehead, ‘I’ve waited a long time to hear it.’

‘Not that long,’ I tease.

‘Long enough.’

I let myself drift off, warm in Michael’s arms. ‘You’ve got me.’ He whispers, ‘In this life, the next and the past.’

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

We are back in the library, but this time the divide is clearly set. The Witches stand in a line, facing off against the Warlocks. Michael and Cordelia stand respectively at the front. More to balance things out than anything, I’ve wound up standing beside the Witches.

‘And so we arrive at the final test, Descensum.’ Cordelia begins. ‘But today I am not asking you to perform this miracle. Today I am asking you to conquer it. I’d like you to retrieve my good friend, Misty Day who lost her own battle with this very task.’

Once again, the past has caught up to this present. I’m stood in nearly the same spot as previously, watching a much more reserved Michael Langdon listen intently to the exact same demand. This time, his eyes fall to me, gauging my reaction to this.

‘What is the point of making a hard taking even more difficult?’ I point out, folding my arms.

Behold leaps in on my line of thinking, ‘Those who don’t return from Descensum are gone forever, property of the Underworld.’ He snaps.

‘No other Supreme’s been made to do this.’ Baldwin looks ready to tear Cordelia’s head off, the Supreme only spared by Michael taking one more divisive step forwards.

His chin juts up in a challenge, ‘Why her? Of all your dead witches, why this one?’

Cordelia’s mouth drops open. It seems Michael Langdon has rendered her momentarily speechless. ‘That is none of your business.’ She bites back, but Cordelia seems horribly uncomfortable at the question.

‘Have some manners.’ Myrtle scolds.

I think Michael’s lost what shred of respect he’d earned from the witch last night.

Michael studies Cordelia and I do too. Her chest rises, her eyes wider than usual.

She’s hiding something. Something to do with Misty.

Whatever I’ve missed, Michael seems to pick up on easily enough. A smile creeps up the corner of his lips, ‘Don’t worry, I’ll get your friend back.’

Cordelia squares up to Michael, ‘The reason I ask you to go above and beyond today is because you are not the only person in the running to become the next Supreme.’

The news sinks into everyone, each of us digesting the information as best as we can. Cordelia and Zoe stand smug, but Myrtle seems just as perplexed as the rest of us.

I realise who they are referring to, ‘Mallory?’

‘Mallory too has been training for the test of the Seven Wonders.’ Cordelia informs me, ‘We were due to carry out her test when we were summoned here.’

‘And why have we only just heard about this candidate?’ Ariel interrogates, ‘This is an underhand, last minute attempt for you to reclaim back your title.’

He breaks off as the library doors open, the click of a set of heels echoing on the polished wood and then a figure. Lithe, with a flowing black dress, cinched with a black and gold belt. A circlet is woven into blonde hair. Mallory strides into the library, looking far more confident than I ever saw her in our past. She seems ready to see me, halting in the doorway.

The whole thing was completely over the top.

Michael gawks at her, his eyes wide and questioning. I feel his gaze burning into me as Mallory and I square off. The Warlocks’ voices are raised, bickering back and forth with the witches as Mallory saunters over to stand beside Cordelia.

‘I summoned Mallory here in order to pass her final wonder.’ Cordelia announces, ‘Given that Mr Langdon and Mallory are both vying for the title of Supreme and both have yet to complete Descensum, the rules must be…altered to accommodate.’

‘This is completely out of order.’ Behold seethes, ‘This is slanderous.’

‘Oh darling, you could work with my dear friend Bubbles in the pictures what with your dramatics.’ Myrtle scoffs.

Mallory finally turns her piercing gaze from me to Michael. I want to step in front of Michael, protect him from the bitch who tried to kill him. But there’s nothing I can do. Their inevitable meeting was here.

‘So you’re my…competition.’ Mallory’s voice is ladened with fake disappointment.

‘How do we all know she hasn’t already taken this test and passed?’ I snap, knowing full well that Mallory had indeed passed all the wonders.

‘Are you accusing me of cheating, Y/N?’ Cordelia thunders, ‘You dare to question your Supreme?’

Myrtle remains relatively silent, watching with a keen eye behind her spectacles. ‘Cordelia,’ She cautions, ‘You are being irrational, darling.’

‘What are you going to do, have them race to find Misty?’

Cordelia’s silence is the confirmation everyone needs.

‘THIS IS AN ABOMINATION.’ Screeches Ariel, ‘You have no right, Cordelia. I do not care who this witch is. We will not stand for this, Michael come away. Now.’

Michael is frozen in his spot. His head turns slowly to Cordelia, ‘The one to bring Misty back first, is the next Supreme?’

‘That’s it.’

Mallory tosses some of her hair behind her shoulder, ‘I hope you aren’t scared to be beaten by a girl.’

Michael chuckles low, ‘We’ll see.’

My discussion with Ariel is bouncing around my brain too. Would Michael be able to take out Mallory while in the Underworld? Would Satan help out his baby boy? If Mallory never made it back…I can’t tell if he’s listening in to my thoughts or not. Michael and Mallory are at a crossroads, enemies once more, facing off for what could again be the final time.

‘If we are going to resort to this petty art of putting one person against another, then perhaps we should at least ensure all players are partaking?’

Again everyone is silenced by Myrtle. A gloved hand, purple this time, is at her lips. ‘Y/N, dear.’ She calls, ‘It’s time you put your name back in the hat.’

I stare at her and everyone stares back at me.

‘Fiona was after our dear Y/N for a reason, was she not?’ Myrtle continues, ‘Cordelia, you know as well as I that Y/N’s talents are not to be ignored. I myself can attest for seeing Y/N performing at least five wonders with ease.’

‘Not to mention, she’s the most skilled of us at Vitalum Vitalis,’ Mallory says.

So she does know.

My hands shake a little as I clasp them in front of me, ‘No.’

‘No?’ Myrtle echoes, ‘My dear, how do you know for sure unless you take the plunge?’

‘I said no.’ My voice is firm.

Michael’s not looking at me. His eyes are on his shoes. It’s hugely apparent that no one is on my side but Myrtle Snow. ‘Is this why you cultivated me all these years?’ I ask, ‘You were waiting for this moment?’

‘I always knew you were destined for greatness.’

‘A break, perhaps?’ John-Henry, quiet for so long, steps in. ‘So we can all discuss?’

‘I don’t need a break.’ Michael cuts in, ‘I’m ready.’

’So am I,’ Mallory counters.

It’s my turn and I know what my answer is. I cannot perform Descensum. The last time I did, I died.

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#Michael Langdon series #Michael Langdon #hawthorne!michael #ahs #ahs Michael #american horror story #ahs apocolaypse #ahs mallory #ahs cordelia #hawthorne #Michael Langdon x reader #Michael Langdon smut #Michael Langdon imagine #apocalypse after #my series #my work

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vegetasleftsock · 4 years ago

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A Devil’s Smile (Vegeta x OC)

Part 1

Chapter 2

Saturday morning arrived. Golden sunbeams poured through open blinds in a window next to Milla’s bed. Waking up, she blinked a couple of times to try to adjust to the light.

“No use,” Milla thought to herself. “My eyelids feel like they weigh ten pounds each.”

She shifted onto her stomach and plopped her head straight into her pillow.

“So soft.”

Milla breathed in the scent of her pillow in a deep breath. It smelled like apples- the scent of her favorite fabric softener.

Suddenly a wave of realization and horror washed over Milla. She used her arms to push herself up from the pillow, eyes wide.

“Oh my god, what time is it?” Milla whispered aloud. She flipped over and began to rummage through the sheets to try to find her phone.

“Where is it?” Milla said, frantic. “Fuck!”

She unravelled her comforter and shook it until her phone made a loud thud on the floor.

“9:52? No! Fucking shit!”

“3 missed calls?? All from Janice?? Great.”

Milla clicked on the missed call and the phone began to ring. As she was waiting for the phone to pick up, she rushed to the closet, pulling her oversized t-shirt over her shoulders as she walked.

“Hello?” the voice in the phone said.

“Hey, yea,” replied Milla while hopping into one leg of her black slacks. “Is Janice there?”

“No, she left to run errands. Joey’s here though, I’ll give you to him,” said the voice.

“Thank you, dear angels above, for watching over me,” Milla breathed a sigh of relief that it was Joey, her bandmate and coworker that she was going to have to talk to and not her boss, Janice.

“Ya, you’re welcome. Although, I don’t know if I’d fall under the category of angel,” Joey laughed.

“Joey, I overslept.” Milla said.

“No shit. I told Janice I sent you to try to get more of that special printer ink from the Office Depot off of 5th,” Joey said.

“You told me that printer ink was discontinued,” Milla said, with a ponytail holder in between her teeth. Her hands stayed busy pulling her hair back and brushing out bumps with her fingers.

“Uh-huh. But I didn’t tell her that,” Joey said. “That way when you get here and you show up empty handed, at least you have a reason, ya know?”

“Oh ok, nice! Damn, Joey- I owe you!” Milla said.

“Just get me a pack of cigs and some pretzels for lunch and we’ll call it even.”

“You got it. Thanks again, friend.” Milla smiled.

“No problem bud. See ya soon.” Joey replied, and then hung up the phone.

Milla took one last look in the mirror. Her hair was pulled back into a high ponytail and silver jewelry hung from her ears. The jewelry was vintage and an emerald sat in the middle of each earring. The earrings were a prized possession- her grandmother gave them to her the year she started college.

A black blouse with floaty long sleeves and a bow tied loosely around her neck hung slightly off her small frame. The all black outfit made her look put together- professional. Greatly contrasting from the persona she wears at home and on stage during her performances.

A black and white cat curled through Milla’s legs as she leaned against her dining room chair to strap her tall chunky heels onto each foot.

“Okay, Chomps. I promise I’ll feed you in just a moment.”

Chomps continued to rub his head against her ankles and calves aggressively. Just as Milla placed her foot to the floor to walk to the cabinet where she kept the cat food, Chomps placed his teeth on her ankle and bit down- hard.

“OW, fuck, Chomps! Seriously?” Milla yelled. “I said I was on my way to feed you!”

Blood trickled down her ankle onto her heel, but she was already late. No time to waste.

Milla opened the cabinet and pulled out a measuring cup to portion Chomps’s food. He obviously had an food obsession issue. She dumped the food into his bowl, grabbed her keys and ran out the door.

She sat down into her small silver Jetta and started the engine. As she started her car, it reminded her of the night before.

That guy- the one with the black, spiky hair and the death glare. Milla allowed herself to reflect and replay her interaction with him.

She never even got his name. Not that she really cared. What was his problem? He approached her after the show at her car for what reason?

If he wanted to hurt her or be a pervert, there was nothing stopping him. Milla was strong for her small stature, but she was nothing compared to him. He was clearly ripped. She could tell by every muscle in his toned arms, folded over his chest that also appeared to be rock solid. His shoulders were big and built and even though he wasn’t the tallest guy she had ever met, he still towered over her.

“Too bad he’s fucking odd. He’s hot.” Milla thought to herself.

Before she could think any further about the situation, Milla had arrived at work. She walked through the front doors of the doctor’s office and found her desk, acting like she wasn’t an hour and a half late.

“Good morning, Milla. Did you find anything at the Office Depot? I really need that ink.” Janice, the office manager and Milla’s boss said.

Milla took a deep breath and spun around in her chair to face Janice.

“Janice, I’ve got some bad news about that. They discontinued the ink.”

“I have a hard time believing that,” Janice said. “Did you ask to speak to the manager?”

“I did,” Milla said. “I even asked the manager to call the distributor and they said it’s production has been indefinitely suspended.

“Great,” Janice sighed. “Next time can you clock out if you’re going to take more than 30 minutes to drive across town? Thanks.” Without another word, she turned on her heel and left Milla at her desk alone.

“NeXt TiMe CaN YOu ClOck Out,” Milla mocked.

Even though Milla was annoyed by Janice’s never-ending passive aggressive remarks, she was relieved to be relatively unscathed throughout the day.

However, Milla didn’t get to take her lunch break, which means she didn’t have time to get Joey his thank you gifts for saving her behind.

Milla tied up any loose ends and threw her purse over her shoulder. She waved goodbye to her coworkers and she walked to the back of the office to find Joey.

“Hi, friend.” Milla said to Joey, who was slinging his Levi jean jacket over his broad shoulders.

Joey was about 6 foot, with blonde hair and blue eyes. He was average build, but his arms and legs were lanky.

Any girl would normally fawn over Joey, but Milla considered him to be like a brother.

“Heading out?” Joey said while grabbing his keys from his desk and sticking them into his jacket pocket.

“Yup. Let me take you out to dinner since I didn’t get to buy you pretzels and cigs.” Milla said, starting towards the back exit of the office.

“I’m down. As long as I get something to smoke and we go somewhere that has the big kind of pretzels.”

Milla laughed. “Sure thing, dude.”

They both climbed into Milla’s Jetta and started driving to one of their favorite breweries, not far from the bar they perform at every Friday night.

On the drive over, Milla lit Joey a joint and told her the story of the guy from the bar. How he met her at her car, got defensive, but never even tried to lay a hand on her.

Joey took a puff and laughed. He told Milla that he assumed the mystery man was probably too nervous to tell her that she was pretty.

Once they got to the brewhouse, they ordered a full flight of beer, pretzels, and a medium pepperoni and basil pizza to share.

They discussed work, talked shit about Janice, and Joey talked about his multiple sketchy encounters with recent hookups.

“Alright, you ready to call it a night?” Joey said.

“Ugh, no I really wanted to finish my beer. It’s only 9:30.” Milla said, pouting at Joey.

“Normally I would stay with you, but I have to meet my mom for breakfast at 8. She’ll have my neck if I’m not there.”

“Understood.” Milla said.

“I’ll just grab an Uber so you don’t have to drive. You should too. Call me if you need anything and please be careful.” Joey said, knowing he couldn’t convince her to leave.

“Ew, you’re not my dad.” Milla laughed. “But yes, I will be extra careful if you insist.”

“Thanks.” Joey patted Milla on the back before heading outside to catch his ride.

About 15 minutes later, Goku, Bulma and Krillin walked into the brewery. They sat at the bar, close enough to Milla to get a hint of who she was.

Goku squinted at Milla. “Hmmm..”

“What is it, Goku?” Krillin asked.

“I feel like I’ve seen that girl somewhere, but I can’t put my finger on where.”

“Ha! I know,” Bulma laughed. “That’s the girl that got Vegeta all flustered!”

“From yesterday? The singer?” Goku asked. “She looks so different!”

“She probably works, Goku. Singing isn’t usually super lucrative.” Bulma explained.

“But she’s so good at it!” Goku said. “Excuse me, miss?”

Goku had moved over so that he and Milla were a seat apart. He tapped on her shoulder to get her attention.

“Uh- Hi.” Milla smiled. “Do I know you?”

The guy appeared relatively harmless and the two friends who joined him gave off good vibes. Milla decided to lessen her guard a little.

“Not really. We saw you sing last night. I just wanted to let you know that we all really enjoyed it!” Goku smiled. “By the way my name is Goku and these are my friends, Krillin and Bulma.”

“Nice to meet you guys. I’m Milla. Thanks for the compliment and for coming out last night. I’d love to see y’all there next Friday as well.” Milla beamed, cheeks a little pink from the alcohol.

“I wouldn’t mind going again,” Bulma said. “Your singing is great but it was pretty great to watch Vegeta get all flustered too.” She laughed.

It suddenly clicked for Milla. The blue haired girl and the guy with the nice smile were the ones who were at the table with the grumpy mystery man.

“Vegeta?” Milla moved her head to the side a little. “That’s the guy who got embarrassed and left after I flirted with him, right?”

“Yup. That’s Vegeta!” Goku laughed. “He’s a little hard around the edges but he’s a good guy.”

“Hard around the edges. That’s one way to explain it.” Milla said eyebrows raised. She took another swig of her stout beer.

“Wait-,” Krilled said. “You sound like you know Vegeta.”

“Hardly.” Milla smiled. “He approached me at my car after the show.”

Bulma laughed. “So that’s where he went! It doesn’t sound like he made the best impression.”

Milla puffed up her chest and held her arms out to the side like she had big muscles. “If you knew who you were talking to, you wouldn’t be laughing. Foul woman!” Milla said, imitating Vegeta.

The four of them shared a laugh before Goku was pulled off his barstool.

“Kakarot! Did you forget about our night training? I’ve been waiting for over 30 minutes and I find you HERE of all places, doing god knows what with-“

Before Vegeta could continue, Milla placed her hand on Vegeta’s shoulder.

“Dude. Shut up, relax. Drink a beer or something before your head explodes.”

Vegeta’s face pulled in a snarl as he looked to see who would have the nerve to say such a thing. His eyes met with Milla’s and his expression turned from anger to shock.

Bulma, Goku, and Krillin sat and watched. They were surprised at Milla’s bluntness with volatile and moody Vegeta.

“You,” Vegeta said, brushing Milla’s hand off of his shoulder. “What are you doing here? Are you all just friends now or something?”

“And what does it matter to you?” Milla laughed.

“Ugh.” Vegeta scoffed. “You’re intoxicated.”

He crossed his arms and inhaled the air again. “And you’re bleeding.”

“What?” Milla furrowed her brow in confusion. She was definitely weirded out again.

He leaned down to follow the smell.

“Dude, what the fuck?” Milla cursed at Vegeta.

“Here.” Vegeta brushed his finger against the bite marks on her ankle. “Looks like some kind of small animal marked you.”

Milla then remembered that this morning she didn’t have time to attend to her wound from Chomps.

“Oh, you’re right. That was Chomps.” Milla and Vegeta’s eyes met once more.

“Wow, Vegeta! That’s crazy how you knew that just by smelling.” Goku said.

Vegeta scoffed and rolled his eyes in response.

“Who’s Chomps?” Krillin asked.

“My cat. He bites when he’s hungry, so I named him Chomps.” Milla said.

“Hmph. Your cat and I have something in common then.” Vegeta said while giving Milla a sly grin.

“Kakarot, I’ll let you play your little games for now. But I will not be as lenient if you fail to show for training tomorrow morning. ON TIME.”

Before Milla could even process Vegeta’s words, he had already left.

“Looks like someone has a little crush on Milla,” Bulma said and gave Milla an encouraging wink.

“What’s his deal?” Milla asked. “Why can’t he just buy me a beer or ask me out like any normal human being.”

“Probably because he’s a Saiyan!” said Goku. “And so am I!”

“A what?” Milla said, looking lost.

“I can explain it all later,” Bulma said. “If you’re free you should come over to my place tomorrow night and I can fill you in. I could make dinner for everyone!”

“Are you sure we can’t do it tonight,” Goku whined. “I’m hungry.”

“Goku, you just cleared the wing place we went to of their entire inventory for the week. You don’t think you can wait until tomorrow?” Krillin asked.

“I guess.” Goku pouted. He quickly perked up. “Can you come, Milla? It’d be so fun to have you there!”

“Sure, I can go.” Milla said. She was apprehensive, but the kind nature of the three in front of her and the craft beer bubbling through her system told her to not worry about it.

“Great! Do you have an iPhone?” Bulma asked.

Milla dug in her pockets and pulled out her iPhone.

“Awesome,” Bulma said. “I’ll just connect to your phone through mine and give you all of our numbers, and it’ll put your number into our phones.”

At this point, Milla was ready to go home and sleep. She nodded her head in agreement.

“You look tired Milla, do you need a ride home?” Krillin asked, aware of how quiet Milla had gotten.

“Please.” Milla replied, her eyes fighting to stay open.

“I can help. Where do you live?” Goku said.

“Apple Cove apartments. Not too far from the Sprint skyscraper.” Milla said.

“Got it! Put your hand on my shoulder.” Goku smiled at Milla, helping her onto her feet from the bar.

“It’s okay, Goku I can walk.” Milla said.

“Just trust me.” Goku looked down at Milla and held his hand out.

Milla reluctantly gave her hand to Goku and he placed it on his shoulder. Milla’s arm was almost completely extended, making the height difference between the two of them glaringly obvious.

Krillin chuckled. “Man, I thought I was short.”

“Bye Milla! See you tomorrow at the party!” Bulma said as she waved.

“Bye, nice meeting you. See you tomorrow.”

Goku placed his fingers to his forehead and before Milla could blink again, she was in front of her apartment complex.

“Holy shit, am I really that drunk?” Milla said, eyes wide.

“It’s instant transmission. Pretty cool, huh?”

“I’m not even going to crack open that can of worms tonight,” Milla said before hiccuping.

“Is it okay if I walk you to your apartment?” Goku asked.

“No really, you’ve done a lot. Thank you for all your kindness.” Milla said.

“Please. I wouldn’t feel too good if anything bad happened to you.” Goku said while scratching the back of his neck.

“Okay-“ Milla said reluctantly. “Promise you’re not creepy?”

“I don’t think I’m creepy?” Goku said innocently while looking at Milla.

“I don’t think you are either,” Milla chuckled between hiccups.

Goku walked Milla to her apartment, made sure she was settled, and even fed Chomps.

She was fast asleep by the time he was ready to go home. Goku pressed his fingers to his forehead and transmitted to the kitchen of Capsule Corp.

“Boy am I starving!” Goku said while rubbing his stomach.

“Kakarot.” Vegeta said, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

“Oh, hi Vegeta,” Goku said with his head in the fridge. “Did you come to get snacks too?”

“What I was doing in this kitchen before you got here is none of your business.” Vegeta said, pushing the bags of fruit snacks further into the pocket of his black sweatpants.

“Oh. Okay.” Goku said. “That Milla girl is really nice, the singer one?”

“So that’s her name. She has an attitude,” Vegeta stated plainly.

“I’m guessing that’s something you like in women.” Goku shrugged, a plate with an entire turkey in his hands.

“Kakarot-“ Vegeta growled, stepping closer to Goku.

“Good news, she’s coming to Bulma’s get together tomorrow night. You’ll get to spend more time with her. If you play your cards right, you might be able to have a normal conversation with her too.” Goku laughed.

“Why do you smell of her?” Vegeta asked.

“I took her home. She was pretty drunk and I didn’t want her to try to make it home alone.” Goku said in between bites. “You could’ve taken her if you would’ve stayed longer.

Vegeta scoffed and walked out of the room. “Training. 8 AM. DON'T be late.”

#vegeta x original character #vegeta x oc #vegeta fanfic #vegeta #prince vegeta #dragon ball #dragon ball z #goku #bulma #krillin

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h-e-l-l-b-r-o-k-e · 5 years ago

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Stand In Place [B.H. x you]

Series: part 4 of Without a Doubt

Summary: Billy offers you a proposal to leave the party with him.

Inspiration: Sea, Swallow Me by Cocteau Twins

Word Count: 1404 Warnings: none.

Written Date: 1/4-11/2020 Posted Date: 1/14/2020

Parts: [1] [2] [3] [4] [MASTERLIST]

“So, what’s this Cocteau Twins? I hear they’re like all the rage in our English class.”

Billy certainly wasn’t the only boy to glance at the heavy black outlines of her eyes or trace the shape of her soft lips with precise pupils and he certainly wasn’t the first to notice the emptiness beneath the blankness of her painted face, but he didn’t turn away like the rest. He stared straight on behind the guise of disinterest in the same fashion she did. Perhaps she never sought out the interests of her peers after her relationship with Steve, but Billy had come to her.

Billy’s interest in her led him to the wrap around porch, where her stray tears dripped onto the painted wood, if they weren’t mopped up by her sleeve. It led to another victory against his rival, but he found he didn’t care for that if it meant this connection with the dazed girl was shallow. It led to something more beneath the shadows of the night away from the pollutants of other gazes. It led to acceptance into her little bubble.

She was no longer trying to push him away with hollow laughter or with the front of her back.

“It’s written on your notebook,” He pressed for a reciprocation of words, in which the answer he’d been searching for would lie.

Heat rose into the supple of her cheeks, a contrast against the moisture clinging to her lashes, when she realized he was awaiting an answer and not just filling the silence with thoughtless matter. “They’re a band not really known around here,” her hands fidgeted in front of her.

His shoulder was now nearly pressing against hers. “How’d you hear about them then?”

Billy’s half-lidded eyes were soft, and she swore since he’d found her the smile on his lips lacked that usual air of arrogance. “Well,” she started, “I have this penpal from the U.K. and we often trade tapes. Been doing it for a couple years now actually.”

All those trips to the record stores resulted in more questions and an increase of mileage on his tank. One time he had to make 20 miles last a week because of the excessive driving and his allowance only came on Sundays, and that’s if his father deemed he was “good” enough to receive it. Hawkins’ may be the smallest town he’d ever step foot in, but even towards the end of that week he was sure he’d get stuck on the side of that long narrow road out in the woods with a brooding Max.

“You should let me hear them some time,” he said, his elbows resting on the railing and his hands clasped together.

“I don’t think you’ll like them,” she answered honestly.

The both of them turned to face the sliding of the house, toward the chanting of the crowd who was no doubt surrounding the keg stand in the backyard. They couldn’t see anything, but soon the crowd erupted in disappointment. No doubt whoever was trying to take down Billy’s score had lost terribly.

“Come on,” he faced her again, “you got me feeling like some curious cat over this foreign band. Surely I’ll like them better than this party.”

“I don’t know,” she shrugged, still not sure whether to reveal such a part of herself to a guy she just met. The guy being Billy of all people.

“My whip’s got good speakers, ya know.” His grin looked sweeter than all those chocolates from those filled-to-the-brim pillow cases from her childhood.

“I have good speakers at home, too.”

“Surely not Rockford Fosgate good.”

“I’m not gonna stand here and pretend to know that brand, but I’m gonna take a guess and say those speakers are expensive.” She eyed him with a quirk of the brow. “You have rich parents or something?”

Billy’s grin faltered, slipping off his face as he thought of something to say, but eventually settled with: “Not really,” his voice trailed off into a pause.

The ring on his finger shone and he twisted it around. His brain was holding up a giant, red STOP sign, telling him to just shut the fuck up for a second. But, just like he runs red traffic lights and cuts off walking pedestrians, Billy doesn’t listen. For some reason, he trusted the girl beside him for she never seemed the stuck-up type nor the kind to spread gossip like wildfires. He only ever saw her speak to one person, and that was Samantha, another girl who didn’t strike him as some annoyance.

He cleared his throat and stared off into the neighborhood. “Actually, I bought them off a friend with some of my mom’s life insurance money.”

If there was ever one thing Y/n envied of Samantha was her relationship with her parents. They were fun, and though they were square they supported and encouraged Samantha’s expressionism in her choice of clothing and style of hair. On the other hand, it was obvious that Y/n’s parents had been brought up in strict Catholic homes by how her mother tried pushing for floral blouses and corduroy skirts in her wardrobe and how her father would glance her way and sigh. But even then, she knew her parents loved her and she couldn’t imagine any sort of life without her mother or her father.

But that was the boulder she learned that weighed on Billy’s spine.

“Oh my god,” she pressed a palm against her mouth, “I’m so sorry.”

He sniffled once. “Don’t be. It happened a long time ago. So uh,” he blinked a few times, “What do you say?”

She doesn’t know what propelled her to ditch the stupid party to go for a ride in Billy’s infamous Camaro. Maybe it was because of the pity she felt for his childhood without the nurture of a mother. Maybe she just really wanted to get away from Steve and the moment that took place by the staircase and he was her only window. Or, maybe it’s because Billy had shown vulnerability, a side to him she had had doubts of existing.

It didn’t matter. None of it did because the night breeze was swirling through her locks in different shades of blue, she imagined in the fashion of that Van Gogh painting in the school library she really liked. The leather seats she was situated in harbored her warmth as though it were an oven mitt and she the casserole that just got taken out to cool. And, Billy was right. His speakers, playing one of her tapes, only cemented the fantasy.

The streets of Hawkins was just a stage, and she was the star among the many worldly props. And, Billy…

His hair was swept away from his own alluring features, like hers, by the the cooperation of Mother Earth’s natural fan and the rolled-down windows of Billy’s waxed Camaro. Gone was the glint of a glare and the stone of the scowl that marred his complexion, leaving behind a pliable expression just a shy away from a smile.

Cocteau Twins was proving itself to be too gloomy for his tastes, its notes striking something deep and morbidly beautiful in his core, but he didn’t mind it so much. This moment was delivering some of the most tranquility and purity since his mother could wiggle her bare toes in sand as she watched him catch a wave.

With every glance he shared with Y/n, his apathetic classmate, Billy had never seen such life ignite and burn in her. He couldn’t ask for anything closer to heaven.

@asheseiler @william-hargroves @emmalbg @gracieadorable @highvoltagefics @slytherinintj13 @xpanda-princessx

#Billy Hargrove #stranger things #billy hargrove x reader #billy hargrove imagine #billy hargrove x you #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things imagines #stranger things imagine #stranger things 2 #billy x reader #billy x you #dacre Montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery #reader insert

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bettycooperoutfitwatch · 6 years ago

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1x01 Chapter One: The River's Edge

Welcome. I can’t believe we’re doing this. But I love Betty Cooper and I love sharing my (really very excellent, five star, people are saying) thoughts on Betty Cooper’s wardrobe, so really I am made for this task. (Also I’m unemployed.)

This will in no way hold a candle to Tom & Lorenzo’s most excellent, truly seminal Mad Style series, because I do not have the breadth nor the depth of their talent, nor Mad Men’s sophisticated and multifaceted storytelling capabilities—and neither does Riverdale.

(Where’s the fucking It’s Riverdale, Jughead gif when you want it?)

Slap some Fresh Sugar Rosé on ur lips, tighten those ponytails, and let’s dive in.

This is a p e a k CW character introduction. Wholesome all-American teen in her skivvies for no reason at all? Played for sex appeal? One hundo percent. They have a playbook and they stick to it.

This is a Natori Feathers bra and it’s a solid undergarment, almost universally flattering to all boob shapes & sizes, a real lift-and-separate situation. The first step to a successful outfit is a solid foundation; off to a good start, Elizabeth.

It is here we begin a recurring feature to this blog, what I shall call the I Own This count.

I Own This count: 3 (Yes, three of these, thank you)

We don’t get a very good look at this outfit (no glimpse of the lower half at all), but it appears to be a semi-gauzy, lightweight, peachy? 🍑, sleeveless button-down. Uneventful, solid summer-wear, no commentary. Also: earrings that don’t really fit with Betty’s style guide going forward. But that’s what pilots are like: none of the sets match what they look like later and everyone’s still figuring shit out.

Oh dis is cute. Look at those white kicks with the vulcanized rubber soles, the straight-leg denim with a hint of ankle. The print of the top (a bitty floral!) reminds me of a (slightly more skin-baring) top we’ll see in season 3 (should we ever get to that point idk guys I’m trying to find a job here.)

A l s o: Ms Reinhart’s hair looks quite shorter here than it does in the rest of the episode. I would not be surprised if this was a pick-up or reshoot.

I sense a real theme of Betty wearing an outfit that she then covers with a cardigan. Put a pin in that thought.

Additionally, while we’ve all done it, a lightweight cardigan over a blouse doesn’t always work for keeping clean lines (peep the cap sleeves bunching up near the shoulder). Also also: it would seem she’s been dressed in a bra with an incorrect band size, or am I seeing things? Betty, where’d the Natori go?? Is it just a lavalier mic? So many questions.

Our first glimpse of the River Vixens booty-shorts-and-baseball-tee practice uniform. Lipstick generously ‘donated’ by V (another titillating CW™ moment).

SCRUNCHIE. That’s the only thing I’d like to highlight here. Also I think we see this backpack again later in the season, which: nice, continuity, good for her. The CW™, as with the WB (rip) before it, is notorious for shows in which characters never wear a single item of clothing twice (the OG Charmed springs to mind), making one wonder about the depths of these fake peoples’ fake wallets. True commitment to realism. (Side note: bring back Veronica’s headbands, those are cute.)

Look at these fucking perfect barrel curls, not a hair out of place. Very deliberate.

A dress featured in a thousand fics, accessorized with a red pleatherish-looking clutch (every couple of years pink + red has a moment). Note the ~risque~ cutouts at the sides. How’d she sneak those past Alice??

By wearing a cardigan over it, of course.

These are defo Alice-approved heels, however.

Later topped off with a baby blue bomber jacket or windbreaker (??) during that odd moment at god-knows-what-time-of-morning when everyone in the town, having stayed up all night without ever changing out of their party gowns, rolls up to Sweetwater to see Jason Blossom get fished out of the river. Small town entertainment, you take what you can get.

Summary: 6 outfits, 9 if you include variations in layering. Lots of pink (of course), cardigans, and ponytails. Sensible, Alice Cooper-approved shit, basically. Wardrobe team is still finding its footing with this character, but there are some themes here that we’ll see throughout season 1 and the rest of the show.

Is Betty a River Vixen??: yes

Best outfit: booty-shorts-and-baseball-tee, totally.

#1x01 #s1 #is this sustainable??#let's find out #it is entirely subjective tho let's be clear #riverdale #betty cooper outfit watch #betty cooper #long post #they're all gonna be long posts guys

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patrocool · 5 years ago

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It was early morning in Financial District. Commuters bustled around the siblings as they exited the subway station onto William Street. The pair stopped abruptly in front of the shop just outside of the station, much to the dismay of a woman behind them, who nearly ran into them with a curse.

Sarah Jacobs had worked hard to get to this point. And damn it, she was proud of herself. Sure, it didnt look like a lot right now- a tiny little hole in the wall right next to the entrance to the A and C train that was probably about the size of her bedroom in her tiny Manhattan apartment- but it was hers and she was proud to own the place.

Davey held up the key with a soft smile. "Planning on going in any time soon?" He asked lightly. She grinned as she took the key from his fingers and unlocked the door, stepping in. It was musty, dusty, dirty, and a bit stuffy, but none of that mattered. What mattered was what it was going to look tomorrow, and then the next day, and the day after that.

She clapped her hands together and set down her bag of cleaning supplies. "We've got a lot of work to do, Davey!"

ii.

Davey carefully placed the finishing touches on the flowers in stock, making them look nice in their holders. He stepped back, hands on his hips, and smiled. He turned to watch his sister as she carefully wrote the last few things on her chalkboard behind the counter.

The store looked perfect. Picturesque, to the point where Davey wouldnt be surprised if photographers came in looking for the perfect picture. Sarah set down her chalk and brushed her fingers off on her apron. She turned, nervously brushing stray hairs behind her ears, and straightening her light blue blouse. "Hows it look, David?"

He gave her two thumbs up. "It looks like a hipster's wet dream," he promised her teasingly.

She laughed and threw a rag at him. "You're such an ass, get out of my store with your gross face! You're gonna be late for class."

He snickered and leaned over the counter to grab his bag. "I'll turn on the open sign and unlock the door on my way out. If I dont, you probably never will."

As he left, he saw a young woman hesitating outside, looking curious. He held the door open. "Going in?" He asked.

She shook her head and hurried away down the street. He shrugged and headed to class. Sarah would have customers soon enough.

iii.

After the fourth day of trying to peek in the flower shop to and from class, Katherine Plumber finally gave in and slipped inside. A soft ring of the bell alerted the quiet shop, and she looked around in awe. Exposed brick on one wall, plants in baskets hung from the ceiling, fairy lights strung across the walls. Beautiful displays of potted plants and cut flowers alike. A chalkboard hung behind the counter listed prices and deals and specials, and then the most beautiful woman Katherine had ever laid eyes on came out of the back room, smiling brightly at the sight of a customer.

Dark hair in loose curls that reached her ribs, brown eyes that seemed to sparkle in the light, circle frame glasses perched on her nose. She wore a yellow turtleneck and high waisted mom jeans with scuffed converse, and a well worn apron. On her apron, someone stitched in the name "Sarah" with blue thread.

"Can I help you with anything?" The shopkeeper asked her cheerfully, and Katherine never felt more out of place.

"Just- just looking," she stammered awkwardly. She tugged at the sleeves of her leather jacket, glancing down at the pins and patches adorning it and hoping there wasnt anything that the sweet shopkeeper would take the wrong way. Usually, she didnt care if other people didnt like her opinions, but damn it, the girl was pretty as all get out, and her big ass "punch nazis in the face" patch on her back didnt really fit with the whole soft flower shop vibe.

She bit her lip, looking at the plants and trying not to stare at the girl. She focused on the many different colors of roses instead.

"'Fuck Cops'- now that's a sentiment I can get behind," the girl said, but she was so much closer this time, and Katherine jumped at the sudden noise.

Katherine blinked slowly. "Oh, uh. Yeah," she said, and laughed a little, internally cringing. God, she sounded like an idiot.

She giggled. "Sorry, I'm just excited to see a customer. I havent had a lot so far, I just opened a couple days ago."

"I know," Katherine said quickly, and quickly winced when the girl cocked a brow. "Sorry, no, I meant, I know you opened a couple days ago, I take the A train to school every day, so."

She snorted and nodded. "I see, a bit less creepy when you put it like that," she said teasingly. She held out a hand to shake. "I'm Sarah. Welcome to Newspaper Row Flowers."

"Katherine," she replied, shaking her hand. She smiled a bit. "You know Newspaper Row was actually over on Park Row, right? Next to City Hall?"

Sarah laughed, cheeks pink. "Oh, I know. It's because my great grandmother used to own a flower shop over next to the old Tribune building on Park Row, and that's what she called it. She lost her shop in the Depression though, and died when I was young, and it was my mom's dream to open a flower shop in her honor. She never managed to, and uh. Well, she died too, a couple years ago, so I did it."

Katherine's heart felt like it was melting in her chest. God, how could she already have so much affection for this girl she only just met? "I'm sorry for your loss. But you've really created something wonderful here, and I'm sure they would both be proud."

Sarah beamed, and Katherine would do anything to make her smile like that again.

iv.

"And so Davey's like 'what the fuck', and Les is like 'who is this guy' and Jack is straddling the windowsill, looking at us like he expects my dad to get a gun, and finally, Dad is like 'hes not Catholic, is he?' And poor Davey is like 'no, pa', and for some godforsaken reason, Mom assumes that means hes Jewish. And knowing he doesnt have a family, immediately invites- and by invites, I mean loosely intimidated- Jack to come celebrate all holidays with us. And so now, instead of breaking it to Mom that Jack isnt religious, Davey just let's them believe it. Cause I mean, they're pretty fine with the whole gay thing, but god forbid we be romantically involved with someone who isnt Jewish." Sarah finished explaining with a laugh and roll of her eyes. "So yeah, that's why Jack is here fucking around with a dreidel even though Hanukkah has passed. Hes convinced that theres a secret trick to it that he has to master by next year."

Jack looked up and pouted sourly in her direction. "We all know Davey cant be that good based on luck alone!" He said for the thousandth time.

Katherine laughed, elbows on the counter. Her red curls were pulled back in a ponytail and she had her signature leather jacket on. "Sounds like your family is a real fun bunch. Ironically, my dad is the exact opposite, he doesn't care if I dont marry into a Jewish family, but he very much cares if I marry a girl."

Sarah made a face. "Gross. He sounds like such an ass whenever you talk about him."

Katherine nodded. "Probably because he is," she said very seriously. And then the two erupted into giggles.

"Ew, go get a room," Jack complained.

"You're in my shop, Kelly!"

"Sarah, I need your help with something." Katherine came in looking nervous, an expression Sarah rarely saw on her friend.

"Of course, anything, what do you need?" Sarah said immediately, abandoning the flowers she was making out of newspapers.

Katherine swallowed, pausing. Her fingers fidgeted with the necklace around her neck. "Um. Well. There's uh... there's this girl I really like. And she... she's just amazing, and I want to tell her that I really like her. And she loves flowers, so..."

Sarah smiled and cooed, even though her chest hurt an awful lot. "That's so-" heartbreaking? Disappointing? Sad? "-cute! Flowers are such a good way to express feelings. Do you want to do it through flower language or do you have specific flowers you want to do it with?"

Katherine bit her lip. "Well, I was hoping a bit of both, but I'm not sure what kind of flowers she likes, so I was hoping you'd help with that."

Sarah nodded. "Of course! Let's get to work, hm?"

In the end, the bouquet consisted of red carnations (admiration), gardenias ("you're lovely"), mistletoe ("kiss me"), and white violets ("let's take a chance on happiness"). Sarah very gently wrapped the stems in newspaper and tied it with some twine while Katherine wrote something on a card.

Katherine paid and took the bouquet from Sarah, carefully fixing the card in it. She stayed after the transaction, simply standing there and staring at the flowers in her arms.

"What are you waiting for? Go get your girl!" Sarah chastized with a laugh. She needed Katherine to leave so she could take an early lunch and cry a little.

"You're right," Katherine said. She took in a big breath and let it out slowly before jutting her arms out, offering the bouquet. "Here."

"What?" Sarah asked, eyebrows furrowed. "Did you change your mind or-"

"They're for you," Katherine said, staring at the wall. "Just- read the card?"

Sarah blinked slowly and took the bouquet carefully, and opened the card.

In it was written simply:

"I like you, Sarah. Have since I first came into your shop. And I'd like you even more if you went to dinner with me?"

Sarah very gently put the bouquet down on the counter. And then she kissed Katherine.

A year and a half later, Sarah come home to find a bundle of myrtle at her place on the table. Instead of a string, there was a ring. Myrtle, the Hebrew emblem of marriage.

Katherine cleared her throat, smiling softly. "Your parents will have at least one kid who marries into a Jewish family. If-if you say yes, that is."

Sarah's eyes filled with tears. "How could I not?"

#newsies #newsbians #sarah jacobs #katherine plumber #katherine pulitzer #5 plus 1 #flower language #flower shop au #aesthetics #newsies fanfic

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noonachronicles · 6 years ago

Text

Everlong Pt. 1

Kwon Jiyong/ G Dragon X Reader

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: Mildly vulgar language.

Genre: Hades/Jiyong. Greek God AU. Fantasy.

A/N: Not really sure I have anything I want to say. I hope everyone enjoys reading this as much as I’ve been enjoying writing it. It’s something I’ve been working on for a really long time and I'm ecstatic it’s ready for sharing!

Moodboard by Bae @memoiresofaneternaldreamer

A gold plated Lamborghini whipped around the city corner doing about eighty miles an hour, at least. It’s driver clearly showing no concern for life or death, or for repercussion in any sense of the word. Every head that lined the street turned towards the vehicle with interest. Either from the eye catching car itself, the reckless way in which it was being driven, or the resounding bass from the music that blared from its sound system and echoed down the streets it traveled. The vehicle and its occupant desired attention and that’s exactly what they received.

The car broke suddenly from the street and pulled to a stop against the curb in front of an expensive hotel. Many heads turned back to their own business, but others remained fixated on the car, waiting to see the person exiting the vehicle. Clearly some kind of god in his own right. They had to know who he was.

The switchblade door lifted upward and the driver finally revealed himself. He was striking. His hair was slicked back, showing off not only his smooth undercut but every glorious angle of his face. His cheeks, his jaw, even his chin were sharp, angular, to be admired. While a man on the sidewalk admired the car as he walked passed the woman beside him stared unapologetically at its driver.

The blazer he put his arms through after exiting the vehicle was a sleek, clean black. The shirt beneath popped against it, a bright cherry red. His sunglasses sat low on his nose, showing off his naturally shaped eyebrows. The kind of eyebrows women spent hours trying to shape their own into. His pink lips were lax, resting in an unimpressed line. He ducked back into the car for just a moment, popping out again with a leather bound notebook in his hand. He shut the door and pressed a button on the FOB in his pocket, setting the alarm.

The doorman from the hotel stepped towards him, already looking nervous, “Sir. Excuse me, sir. You can’t park here.”

The man lifted his sunglasses to the top of his head, narrowing his eyes at the doorman, “Can’t I?”

“Errm…” the doorman hesitated. He couldn’t figure it out. This was just a man in a nice suit with a fancy car, he’d seen plenty in his time working here. However, there was something about this specific man that was making him shake with fear. As if he knew, inherently, that the man was not to be vexed without major consequence. “I-I s-suppose you can.”

“Lovely.” the man grinned before pulling his glasses back down his face.

Though he may have had a general look of anger about him, he wasn’t exactly, he just wasn’t fond of a lot of mortals. They were interesting enough as subjects to observe every once in awhile. Which was why if he was especially bored he would pop over from the underworld for a bit, just to watch them. Just for a change of pace. An escape from the humdrum of his day to day. There was an enjoyment he took in learning about them, the strange things that they often did, and the reasons behind it. Trying his best to understand them. None of them he’d found, in millenniums he’d been doing this however, were ever very likable. At least that would remain true until you showed up.

Actually, from the moment he saw you there was something brewing inside of him. As much as he tried to deny it. He’d call it something even more than lust. It wasn’t completely unfamiliar, just something he hadn't felt flow through him for a very long time, not since the first time he’d seen Persephone in the meadow. That fact alone kept him wary of you, considering how things had turned out with her.

Stepping onto the curb that particular day, the day you two met, it was your scent that caught his interest first. A mixture of florals and spice that assaulted his senses the second he’d gotten out of his car. He didn’t even know it was a person that had caught his interest so intensely. It had been his assumption that there was a mixture of aromas, maybe a rooftop garden over a bazaar. Sweet like cherry blossoms with the heat of cayenne pepper. Honestly, he had thought he was just hungry. Having hit peak curiosity, his nose took the lead and he followed the smell around the corner and down the street. He didn’t even bother to look up at the sign above the door before pulling it open. He was surprised to suddenly find himself in a quiet bakery.

The most activity in the building was a study group, six students surrounding a large wooden table covered in papers, books, and laptops. They were buzzing with conversation. Other than that there was a couple at a small table in the corner. Although the way they focused more on their phones than each other left the nature of their relationship vague. For a moment he’d even been distracted by them, wanting to watch them to know how their time together unfolded. There was also a man reading a book near the window, though he was very dull in appearance.

And then there was you.

White blouse tucked into a pair of black ripped jeans, and a black apron tied around your waist, that was covered in some unidentifiable stains. Hair pulled back into a messy ponytail, which swayed across your back as you wiped down tables. Your sleeves were rolled up to your elbows, showing off the tattoo that covered your forearm completely. Bright blues and reds, purples and greens, different types of flowers that wrapped around your arm like a vine. He wondered how far up it went and then quickly shook the thought from his head.

He focused in on you. Your posture, your actions, and subtle facial movements. He grinned as he realized you were talking to yourself. Upset by an argument with your manager earlier, and being ditched by your boyfriend once again had you feeling irritable and left you mumbling to yourself. Mostly it was just the arguments you’d thought to say to your boss hours after the fact, per usual.

You hadn’t even noticed that he’d walked in yet so you continued on with your cleaning, before walking back around the coffee bar. He followed you, quietly standing in front of the counter. He placed his notebook down on the polished wood and then his hands gently on top of the worn leather. His dark brown eyes stayed focused on the crown of your head as you wiped down the shelving below.

“I don’t even need this job, you’re just ruining everything about it that I loved. I’ll just get another bullshit job somewhere else doing some entry level bullshit for a bullshit wage until I can afford my own place and not have to deal with your incompetence anymore which we both know is the real issue at hand and always has been.” You let out a frustrated growl and continued on your rant. “Fucking humans. Worthless, no good, waste of…”

He cleared his throat in an effort to get your attention, unable to remove the small curl at the end of his mouth. “Are you still open or…?”

You popped up from behind the counter, wide eyed with a slight blush on your cheeks. “Hi! Yes. I’m so sorry, I didn’t notice you come in. We’re absolutely open, give me just a moment.”

You turned to the small sink behind you to wash your hands. He had been taken aback by your eyes, left practically breathless. The soul that lingered behind them, he knew that soul, even if he wasn’t sure how. Somehow he knew you and it made his heart flutter in his chest, his brain raced to figure out who you could be.

“Oh good, I was really craving a coffee.” He said slowly, hoping to hide the way his eyes had lingered on you a bit too long.

He watched your reflection through the framed photograph on the wall in front of you as you rolled those beautiful eyes. He was thankful for his impeccable hearing, although he had to keep himself from laughing, as you muttered under your breath, what else would you be here for?

When you turned back to him the smile had returned to your face. “Welcome to Olympus and what can I get for you today?”

An intake of breath so quick and severe left him choking out in surprise. His sunglasses flew from the top of his head in the jolt and he quickly grabbed them before they clattered against the counter. You raised a curious eyebrow at the outburst. Catching his breath once more he looked back up at you, “W-what did you say?”

“Uh, welcome to Olympus...what can I get for you?” you repeated your usual introduction.

“Olympus?” he asked.

“The name...of the bakery you walked into.” you pointed up to the sign hanging from the wall behind you.

It did say it, right there on the black background, in a metallic gold font. Olympus Bakery. It was printed in the kind of typography that was typical of greek themed businesses. He looked around the building again, this time taking in the little details he’d missed out on the first time. The walls were painted in an ombre, blue at the bottom blending lighter and lighter until it was a white at the top giving it the aesthetic of a cloudy sky without any of the usual, cheesy sponged on clouds. Column style pedestals lined the walls every six feet or so holding knockoff, antique greek vases. In between each of the columns a portrait was hung of one of the major olympians.

You watched him as he silently walked over to the nearest portrait. It was of Zeus, standing tall and proud at the top of Mount Olympus. His wavy hair flowing behind him to indicate some invisible gust of wind. Anger showing on his face as he clutched a lightning bolt in his fist, ready to hurl the electric lance down upon his enemy.

Your new guest rolled his eyes and made his final judgement with a scoff before turning around and muttering, “Prick.”

“I’m sorry, was there something I could get for you?” you tried one more time.

He looked back up at you, almost as if he was surprised you were still there, “Oh, right. What do you have here?”

“I- um,” you pointed to the menu again weakly and then sighed in defeat. The attitude typical of many of the customers you recieved. “Cakes and cookies, Sweet breads, regular bread. Bakery…stuff.”

“Specifically?” he asked, amused at your attempt to keep your cool. The look in your eyes was that of someone completely exasperated and annoyed. “I’m so sorry, have I bothered you? I just assumed, I guess, that as someone who works here you would have a genuine interest in the items you sold.”

You couldn’t stop your sneer, “I do.”

“Then what’s the problem? Is it too much to ask what you offer? If it is, why don’t you just try to tell me about one of them? Which of these treats is your favorite?” he asked peering into the display case curiously.

“Everything here is delicious.” you glared at him for a second, unsure why he was messing with you, and then turned to the case. “The cupcake over here, that’s called the Lightning Bolt, for Zeus. It’s a white cake with lemon curd filling and a vanilla, lemon zest buttercream frosting. The muffin here, is Demeter, it’s like a… breakfast muffin. The healthiest thing we offer if you’re into that. It’s just like flax seeds, chia seeds, lots of seeds, some berries and nuts. It’s not bad...just not a favorite.”

He didn’t once look at the case as you spoke about the items, but you didn’t notice. He was too busy watching the way your eyes lit up while you talked about each treat and the combination of flavors they offered. This was clearly your passion, but everything else was taking you away from the joy it gave you. Each treat was named for a god or was a play off of what they ruled over, he couldn’t lie, it was pretty clever. Kitschy but still cute. He wondered if it was something you had come up with yourself.

“...the bundt cake is based on a rum cake recipe,” you were saying as he focused back on your words, “except instead of rum the glaze is made with a red wine reduction, it’s the...”

“Dionysus,” he chuckled, you grinned down at the cake in silent confirmation, “It would be”.

“Big fan of the greek mythos?” you asked finally looking back up at him.

“I don’t know if fan is the right word. I’m knowledgeable on the subject.” he shrugged, “Nothing for Hades then?”

You made a face as you eyed the back of the case, after a second your eyebrows perked, “The ramekin at the bottom. We’re usually out of that one by now. It’s a lava cake.”

He looked down and saw the lone ceramic bowl with the chocolate cake baked inside, “A lava cake? That’s the best you could come up with? Because of course the underworld is all hellfire and brimstone...”

“Hey!” you said clearly offended, “It’s my recipe and it’s really good. And it’s not named for the underworld, it’s made for the actual god. Hades just seems like he’d have a little more bite than the others. So it’s a Mexican chocolate cake, it’s got a little snap from the cinnamon and the chilies.”

“I’ll take it. Give me that last one.” he said definitively.

“Anything else?” you asked before ducking behind the case and reaching for the last of the Hades cakes. He watched your every move like a curious cat. “We have coffee too. Regular brewed, cold brew, espresso drinks...”

“Ten shots of espresso, please.” he said suddenly.

“...with?”

“That’s it.” He watched your face, completely amused, as you went from professional smile to pure disgust.

“Ew.” You couldn’t help yourself.

“Ew?” He smirked. “Do you always react so kindly to people’s drink orders?”

“If you’d ordered a drink perhaps my reaction would have been more kind.” You smiled once more with your clearly ingenuine smirk reserved for customers. “But I’ll get you your espresso shots. Would you like that for here or to go?”

“What’s the difference?”

“Between here and to go?” You asked furrowing your brow. “Here means you’re drinking it here, to go means…”

“I mean what changes about my drink. I know what it means to stay or to leave. Do I look stupid to you?” He asked, but not without some amusement so you knew he was still being quite playful.

“To go, you get this recycled materials paper cup. For here, a fancy white cappuccino cup that should be big enough to fit your ridiculous amount of espresso.” You motioned to the stack of cleaned cups next to the machine.

“And a conversation with you?” He asked.

“A what?”

He let loose a small laugh at your reaction. “If I stay here, will you talk with me awhile?”

“Well… okay.” You agreed, “I would kind of enjoy the chance to see you attempt this drink, and someone should be nearby when your heart attack inevitably comes.”

“Then I’ll take that for here.” He said pulling out a stool that ran along the counter.

“And what’s your name?” You asked before tucking your lip beneath your teeth and grabbing a porcelain cup. He grinned arrogantly and you felt the need to clarify. “For the order…”

“Of course. You can call me,” Hades thought for a moment about which pseudonym he would be using this time before responding, “Jiyong.”

#g dragon scenario #kwon jiyong scenario #Big Bang scenario #Kpop scenario #Everlong

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lovelyparkers · 5 years ago

Text

we kissed...

summary: you and peter are on an undercover mission and things get a little out of hand. part 1 of the fake dating series! 2k words omg

"so, kids," tony began, standing in the living room in front of you and peter, "you need to date."

"excuse me?" you asked tony.

"for a mission! tonight at this mega fancy steak restaurant, we have to stop this guy, lowkey. which means none of our familiar faces can go, you know us and our fantastic disguises from steve. anyways you two are hidden from the universe so your going."

"i- i don't understand," peter stuttered, looking over at you, who was sitting far apart from him on the couch. god he wished you were closer.

tony sighed, "bad guy is on a 'date' with his wife and is making an illegal weapons drop to another bad guy. you two are going on a 'date' to interfere, low-key. get it?"

"yeah..." you glanced over at peter, "but why do we need to date."

tony shook his hands in frustration, "because it's just how these things work, okay? nat will have more details for you guys later," he started off to his lab, "and it's not like you two are already all over each other."

he whispered that last part but you both still heard it.

peter rubbed his suddenly sweaty palms on his jeans and looked at you once again, "so, guess we are ah, going on a daaaate, hahah."

you sighed and kicked your feet up on the couch, adjusting yourself so your head landed in peter's lap, a normal thing for you two, "guess so. but hey! it's our first real mission! this is so exciting! just you and me and free food!"

"and bad guys with dangerous illegal weaponry," peter reminded you.

you rolled your eyes at him, "it'll be a good time."

peter smiled down at you. any reason to be with you just made him happy. he liked you, a lot. and as much pain as this fake date thing is for him, it's still just you. he kinda sorta hoped you felt the same. but all feelings aside, you two needed to be professional.

later that night

"so, you excited?" nat asked as she helped you adjust your outfit and secret microphone.

"yes! it's my first real mission and we are gonna kill it. WELL not the bad guy, but if need be, i can beat a bitch up."

nat shook her head, "i meant about going on a date with peter."

your face turned into a saddened expression.

"i mean, i guess. you know how i feel about him. but it's a fake date nat. we can't mess around."

"i know but still, it could lead to something new. and you two better not mess around. we got a dangerous criminal on our hands," she smirked at you in the mirror. (a/n: nat is so hot bye)

you smiled yet again.

"go get 'em girl."

———————

"sam i need help with my tie," peter talked into the phone.

"oh little man is getting all fancied up for his date huh?"

"this is serious!"

sam laughed, "alright alright i'll be there in 12 seconds."

peter opened the door for sam who entered in exactly 12 seconds.

"i still can't figure out a tie."

"trust me i've got experience with a tie or two," sam began to tie it while peter nervously tapped his foot, "and also experience with girls."

this made peter sigh and stop tapping his foot. he closed his eyes for a second and thought about you.

"it's not a 'date' date, you know that. i'm professional," peter said rolling up his sleeves of his tight and crisp white button-up shirt.

"sure, sure, but we both know how it goes."

peter furrowed his brows in actual confusion, "no, no i don't know how it goes."

"i give up with y'all. you obviously like each other so tonight is your chance to actually do something about it. it's perfect, like tony practically set you up."

"tony did it for good, practical reasons," peter replied.

"mhm, sounds about right. just go get the girl."

peter began to realise it was his chance. he had to tell you how he felt.

"and the mission?"

"yeah do that too," sam said then left the room.

peter looked at himself in the mirror and said, "phew you got this peter. it's just y/n."

as if planned, you both walked out of your opposite facing rooms at the same time. peter saw you, hair all natural, red lips, bright eyes and a stunning outfit. a dark blue blouse and black slacks, subtle yet absolutely beautiful. and you saw peter, hair neatly gelled, a white button up clinging to his toned upper body perfectly, along with some black slacks as well.

you were first to speak, "you look..."

"...lovely," peter finished. you blushed in reply.

"i was gonna say you look handsome."

"t-thanks...uh should we go?"

"yeah," you reached out and linked arms with him, not needing to put on your act yet but just wanting to feel him.

nat was waiting at the front of the compound in the getaway car to take you to and from the restaurant. it was a long drive, but nothing you and peter couldn't handle. you guys talked and laughed and listened to music while nat just admired you two beautiful humans and was happy her two favourite kids were happy. she drove in silence, smiling and being so content, for once.

you and peter stumbled out of the back of the car laughing.

"hey! good luck! and no fooling around," nat yelled before driving away to park the car.

you two composed yourself before linking arms again and walking into the restaurant.

nat began to talk through the communication system, "okay peter, the reservation is under your name, your table should be right next to the target."

"got it."

you guided peter up to the hostess and she smiled before peter said, "parker. reservation for two."

"right this way."

you guys settled down to order immediately seeing the target man and his lady. you placed your hand on the table nodding toward it so peter got the idea to hold it, which he did. nice peter.

you looked over at the suspicious couple and asked, "your food smells lovely! how is it? we've never been here."

they didn't seem to mind the friendly question.

"oh it's fantastic! to die for," the woman said, the man nodded in agreement.

"great!" you smiled and squeezed peter's hand, he was being shy.

"what a lovely couple you two are! i love young love," the woman spoke again.

"thank you," you smiled at her then peter.

peter blurt out, "yeah we sure are in love."

you exchanged soft and meaningful smiles.

———————

a little while later the couple next to you got up, which was your time to shine. the woman walked toward the front of the restaurant while the man walked toward the back door with a large duffel bag he had concealed under the table.

"that's your cue," nat said through the com.

"on it," you said. you and peter ran to the back door quickly. you both peeked out the window to see the man look around then drop the duffel behind a dumpster. what a great pick up spot. you and peter looked at each other and chuckled. the man then noticed you and peter, which you noticed.

you looked peter directly in the eyes and said, "i have to kiss you, we are dating so i have to, just be cool."

before you could kiss him, peter understood what was going on and grabbed your waist pulling you into a hard kiss. and it was like a firework ignited. it felt so perfect and right and just felt like the world was just you and peter. it meant something.

the man walked back inside at this point. peter opened his eyes while continuing kissing you, making eye contact with the man, then pulled away.

"uhhhh..."

you laughed, "sorry we were just wanting some uh, some..."

"alone time to make out ya know?" peter finished for you.

"mhm, enjoy each other kids," the man said then walked away.

after he was out of sight you and peter rushed out the back door and grabbed the duffel, running to the main street to get in the car with nat.

"mission accomplished?"

"yeah," you both said in unison crawling into the back seat.

nat has the music playing real low, it was dark outside and you and peter were in complete silence the whole 43 minute ride. the kiss made everything awkward. shit.

————————

when you got back home you and peter hurried to your rooms, shoving the duffel into tony's hands, who was waiting for you two to arrive.

"hey thanks, have a good time?"

"mhm," you muttered. peter was already heading down the hallway, you following.

"huh," tony whispered.

you and peter exited to your rooms and got out of your dressy clothes into some pyjamas. both sighing and frustrated.

"peter and y/n come to the living area, it's mandatory movie night," friday called over the loud speaker.

"shit," peter said.

"fuck," you groaned.

again you and peter exited your rooms at the same time. stopping slowly just to look each other up and down then retreating to the living area. walking in silence, hands brushing ever so slightly, almost unnoticeable but you both felt the contact anyhow.

you guys arrived to the living room with the other avengers and took your seats. normally you and peter sat next to each other, but tonight, you sat between nat and tony, and peter sat by sam and bruce. there was so much tension in the room and all the avengers knew it. something happened in that restaurant between you two.

after the movie was over, you ran to your room. peter went over to talk to sam.

"uh sam, i need help again."

"ahh so someone got some action."

"no! i mean yeah but-"

"wait for real! i didn't actually think you did but okay pete! way to go."

"look, me and y/n kissed. it was part of the mission, but i think she felt something and i did too, but now it's awkward. what the hell do i do? i love her and need to fix it."

"wow, okay, love is a strong feeling," sam began, "but look, just talk to her. i know that might be hard but it's the only thing you can do."

peter nodded, agreeing.

"now go!"

peter got up and ran to your room. he knocked before walking in, hearing a soft 'come in!'

you were laying on your side on your bed staring at nothing. you didn't notice it was peter yet.

"hey," he whispered.

you didn't say anything back.

"y/n?"

"i do not wanna talk about it!"

"woah! i didn't even say anything yet. hey! look, are we just like, suddenly not friends anymore?"

"yes. of course we are. nobody said we weren't friends."

"but, friends don't sit in a car for 43 minutes in complete silence. friends have conversations. they talk."

"okay peter, let's talk. we kissed. and now everything's awkward and loaded and i don't know how to be around you. is that the conversation you wanted to have?"

peter stood there, not responding.

"didn't think so," you finished. you were sitting upright on the bed now, criss crossed legs. you played with your fingers, trying not to look at peter. he walked over and sat next to you, mirroring your position. he took his hand and hesitantly placed it on your thigh, slowly moving it to interlock with your own hand. and you let him.

"can we just try? try to make it not awkward?"

you nodded slowly.

hey loves, hope u enjoyed part one! this is gonna be a two part series so look out for part two soon! love, juli <3

#peter parker peter parker imagine peter parker imagines spider-man spider-man imagines peter parker x reader peter parker fluff

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mrdanielbond · 6 years ago

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Bond’s New Flatmate (Chpt. 4)

“Duck? Swann? Same thing.”

[James Bond X Reader]

Plot; She’s here. Bond’s girlfriend has finally arrived. Dr Madeleine Swann. Don’t they make the perfect hot couple? Well...after spending some ‘quality’ time with James’ new girlfriend, unfortunately, you already find her the most irritable person you have ever had the displeasure of sitting in the same room with….

[Word Count; 4000+ ]

[Y/N - Your Name]

[Y/L/N - Your Last Name]

[Warnings? Does a crazy girlfriend count?]

[A/N; It’s back- God knows how many times I suffered through a brain fart because if this. But on the bright side, Madeleine’s character is a blend of her in Spectre and inspiration from others. Also Jonathan, the new friend is an actor you can imagine just to open things up for you! You’ll see more of him soon! I really do hope you enjoy this! ]

1 Week Before…

“Come on Y/N. Sit with me.” James said as he shifted aside on his bed.

He had been working on a case to do with a Turkish terror threat for a while now and the case had proved to show some difficulties. It was 9.00 pm and you could see Bond was slightly frustrated with the way his shirt was untucked, sleeves rolled up and slightly unbuttoned, his tie had been thrown to one side, he didn’t really care how he had looked, especially in front of his flatmate half the time. You didn’t care how you looked either, in a long t-shirt and a pair of leggings beneath, you were starting to feel more comfortable in the flat almost over eight months in. You both had been getting a lot closer - well in the eyes of others, you two made more snarky remarks to each other as a way of ‘respect’ or some form of friendship.

“Are you’re scared I’m going to bite?” He remarked.

“In all the wrong places.” You teased. “You have no idea…” You mumbled that part to yourself quietly.

“Come on. I won’t bite.”

“No touching.” You said with a stern tone in your voice.

“No touching.” He repeated with his hands up.

“I’m being serious.”

“I’m not going to do anything Sir.” He laughed, “I just want you to look at this case with me that’s all...Unless you’re uncomfortable with that.”

“Please. I’m the one who does the uncomfortable making, not you.” You said as you sat next to him, leaning against the headboard and looked at the photographs of the terror suspect.

You two sat together talking about the case for over an hour and you realised, you hadn’t been this close to James ever. And for the first time ever, there were no flirtatious jokes - well he managed to slip in one or two but he really did want your help. He turned to you, smiling once you’d both finally stopped talking.

“So just out of curiosity, do you think you will ever divorce your husband?”

“Way to drop in the question.” You laughed, “And why are you asking? So you can try and jump into my bed and prove you don’t go around sleeping with married women?”

“No.” Bond chuckled shaking his head, “I’ll wait two weeks after.”

You turned, glaring at him, prepared to jump out of the bed and make a run for it, “I’m joking! It’s a genuine question. You two aren’t even a couple so you’d understand why I’d ask that question.”

“Well, I don't know. I’ve just been too lazy.”

“But what if you weren’t feeling lazy?”

“I can’t imagine myself being bothered enough though.”

“God you’re annoying.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s almost attractive.”

“Not happening James.”

“Got it.” There was a silent pause before he continued, “So did you love him?”

“At one point, yeah. But it’s just I think we see each other more as friends.”

“Uh oh. That’s the kind of thing you say once you’ve had a break up.” He laughed.

“No. I told you what happened. We had to move away to different places and just grew distant. Had no time to talk to each other about anything or even bothered to see each other down the line.” You looked down at your hands with a sigh, James was genuinely interested. He listened to your every word when you opened up about your marriage, it was almost an odd therapy session.

“So, same time next week? This time a little less talk and more action?”

“In your dreams.”

“Fine. Playing hard to get, you won’t be able to handle this anyway.” He winked, looking down.

“Handle what? There’s nothing to handle, not even downstairs.” James became stunned as you slipped out of his bed smiling, was he trying to undress you with his eyes?

“Oh and don’t stare too long, you have a girlfriend.”

“What girlfriend?” He said, enjoying the view behind you.

***

The evening in Chelsea had finally hit and during winter especially, nothing could defeat the feeling of soaking up the warmth of the flat, being on the couch wrapped up in a blanket with a cup of hot chocolate with whipped cream and marshmallows and some popcorn with (your favourite show) on television, James’ light blue shirt and your PJ bottoms. To set the record straight, you had always borrowed his shirts for experiments in the labor at home and never returned them but this was a different case. Your laundry had stacked exponentially and the clothes you had left were down to the ugliest t shirt and bottoms you owned, which you were not willing to put on at all, especially when you’re living with someone like James who knew how to tease. So on your day off, you had to get that sorted immediately. Today was your day off and you appreciate it more than anything. A day away from James and his ridiculous saga with Q, which still you haven’t been able to divorced from (your laziness had increased by a milestone since you moved to London) and had the displeasure of being the centre of it. Today was definitely a break. From Bond and all his questions, his flirtatious tricks and from Q and his snarky remarks. James was out working as usual, considering he was ‘Mr. 24/7’ and had to be alert all the time - something about a debriefing had to take place, you couldn’t remember. It’s evidently clear you aren’t one to listen to what James is usually up to at work.

Just when you thought you were going to spend the entire night like this, binge watching your favourite television show, that thought was immediately defeated by the sound of the door unlocking. James stepped in and noticed you resting comfortably on the couch.

“Oh hello.” He mumbled quietly, noticing you in a change of clothes, “This is the most comfortable I’ve ever seen you in the flat.” His rich voice caught your attention instantly. You turned to him and casually ate popcorn, giving him a slight shrug.

“I live here too, don’t I?” You responded with a proud smirk. “Better take advantage of what I have.”

“That being my shirt? Not that I’m saying it looks bad on you.” He smirked too, except his eyes were on you completely, eyeing the way you were dressed in particular to his fascination.

“What? I had to call the plumber to fix the washing machine.”

“Really? A plumber? You should’ve told me that the washing machine had a problem.”

“You’ve been really busy as of late I couldn’t disturb you being on that case for a washing machine and what would you have done? Shown your manly skills off in front of me?”

“If you wanted me to, I could’ve made time to help you out and who knows? I don’t even think a washing machine would even have to be involved. I could just show you what it does.” He winked. The man was at it again, he was at his flirtatious jokes once again, yet this time you had no remark or form of response to that. You simply shook your head, knowing he wasn't going to give up.

There was a comfortable silence between you two, as James appriciated the way you looked, especially in his shirt, it was almost - attractive in a way. The way your hair was let down to one side, while you were practically covered in two blankets, one being James’ shirt almost completely covering more than just your arms and the actual blanket itself. It was almost tempting for him to join you.

See the emphasis on the almost? Here’s where Bond stops himself in his tracks…

Footsteps came from behind him and entered the flat. A woman with flowing blonde hair and a slim figure stood beside James, with a long expensive coat, under that an all black outfit, black blouse and trousers and you could’ve sworn you saw a pair of Louis Vuitton heels and handbag. Shit. An upper class snobby woman had just casually walked in wearing - was that - were those - Bond’s Tom Ford sunglasses? You quickly took your phone and cursed yourself realising what day it was. Shit. It was MONDAY. And you knew what that meant. Bond’s girlfriend, Madeleine Swann was standing before you. Something inside you wanted to poke and prod her, see if she really was as snobby as your assumptions believed her to be - you were just that type of person or maybe she dressed to impress for him. James does have a love for dressing lavishly in suits. In fact, you may or may not have been ruining a £500 shirt at this current present moment in time. Though you’ve seen him dress completely different to that and you considered those his best days, so you weren’t embarrassed to be dressed so casually in front of her. She looked around the flat for a moment, with a smile on her face, impressed by the sight. Then she turned to you and slowly took her sunglasses off with a curious look on her face. She then looked at James then back at you, confused.

“Oh right!” Bond ended the silence quickly, “Sorry. Y/N this is Dr Madeleine Swann. Madeleine this is Y/N Y/L/N, she’s one of the forensic investigators who works on the same branch with us sometimes. Mainly when a body is involved. Oh and she’s my flatmate.” He looked at the both of you, eagerly smiling.

Dr of what? You thought. Perfecting the sciences and study behind the resting bitch face? How you wanted to say something smart to test her, and it wasn’t even because you were jealous, it was just because of the way she looked at you. But then again, maybe that’s the way she normally looked, so you had to give her a chance and held your tongue. You rose from the couch and extended your hand, “Hello. I’ve heard so much about you.”

She paused, looking at your hand for a moment, you could’ve sworn that was a dirty look, “And I’ve heard very little about you.” She said in a more serious tone. She then laughed it off and shook your hand after a short pause.

“Nice shirt.” She remarked.

“Why thank you, I do know a thing or two about dressing appropriately for the occasion, especially in the comfort of my own flat. What’s the point of dressing as if I was going to meet the Queen all the time? Would be quite painful, especially for the people around me.”

She scoffed and turned to Bond with a smile, “James, with the way you described your flatmate, I thought he would’ve been some dirty, greasy, big man, who works as a bouncer at a nightclub. I didn’t know you were staying with a woman after all you’ve told me.” She smiled.

You were tempted to spit the remainder of your hot everage on her expensive shoes. Well that was rude. But then a thought crossed your mind...

Woman. Now that’s what offended her. The fact that you were a woman living with her boyfriend as flatmates - when you put it that way, any jealous girlfriend would’ve thought this was the perfect scenario. Then again, what competition did she have? If James was to describe you to anyone, you could’ve sworn he would’ve used the word ‘sociopathic’ considering that’s how you were and that was a definite turn off for him. Plus did she just call you a dirty big guy? You were sure to have words with James after that, but for now you had to be a kind host, make the woman you would gladly never see again welcome into your shared flat.

“Yeah, she’s a woman. Did I mention that to you? I swear I did.” He chuckled to himself.

“Baby, is that one of your shirts?” Madeleine turned to James holding his hand tightly, with an innocent look in her eyes.

“Uh yeah, it’s - the laundry ran low so I let her borrow one of mine.”

“Really? Was she so poor that she couldn’t go out and buy something else other than borrow someone’s boyfriend’s things and claim it as theirs? I mean doesn’t she have a husband to borrow things from?”

“Unbelievable. You told her didn’t you?” You asked Bond, who kept his eye on Madeleine, in particular her lips.

He then turned to look at your direction and noticed that you were uncomfortable and felt insulted, simply through the fake smile ‘death’ glare you had given him. You wrapped up your blanket and picked up your cup.

“Please, make yourself feel at home.” You said, keeping your piece and headed to the kitchen to put it away. There you were with your manners, you so wanted to completely annihilate her with insults there and then, starting with the way she walked in like the flat was hers, but if anything, you were taught by your close university friends not to take that road so quickly. You left James and Madeleine to talk alone while you washed your cup.

“I’ll be back in a second.”

You heard from James. He walked into the kitchen and leaned his back against the counter so he could see you clearly. “So, what do you think?”

“What do I think of what?” You asked, finally finishing with the washing and dried your cup with a dish towel.

“You know what I’m asking. Y/N, you’re a very intelligent and capable woman but sometimes I think you purposely decide to have a dreadfully slow mind for the sake of being ironic.”

“Do I?” You gasped sarcastically, “Says the one who can’t catch up with the fact that his girlfriend is a slight stuck up bitch.” You mumbled low enough for him not to hear.

“What was that?” He asked.

You chuckled to yourself and shook your head, “I’m sorry I was just saying that I don’t have an opinion on what you just asked because my dreadfully slow mind would need time to process all of this. Come back to me tomorrow when I finally am able to keep up with you.”

“Y/N…” He said with a stern tone in his voice. “What do you think of Madeleine?”

“Oh you’re talking about the doctor - by the way what does she have a PHD in? I’d like to know, so my dreadfully slow mind doesn’t find itself in the predicament of finding the answer out from her.”

“Are you jealous?” He smiled.

“Jealous of who?” You laughed, practically in hysterics, “Bro, I think she’s an absolute charmer and I can’t wait for the day you start to pull your hair out because she’s driving you crazy - I mean crazily in love with her. I mean it’s already happening with me.” You said and quickly moved passed James, “Try not to make too much noise. Good night.” You said as you walked down the hall.

Morning had arrived and you knew that Madeleine was here. You just knew she would be, especially with the time she arrived at the flat. You were in no mood to see her and James, only because if that was what you were facing for an entire day, you’d rather work a full day, then overtime, then overtime that overtime. There was something about her. Something off about her. Her clinginess to James, the way she eyed you as if you were competition, the way you dressed, well maybe she was having a rough night. So you tried to brush away the thoughts and took a shower, heading into the front room to find James and Madeleine stood in the kitchen - together. His arms wrapped around her waist as he was in just a robe and she was in a nightgown, she couldn’t keep his hands off him, constantly kissing him as if it was the last time they saw each other.

“Oh gross.” You said, walking straight into the kitchen, you squint your eyes, disgusted and tried to make yourself some toast when you heard Madeleine giggling and Bond mumbling something in his deep voice. These two were not teenagers! Fuck it. You thought. You quickly drank your orange juice and grabbed your toast, heading for the door.

“Y/N? Where you going?” James finally asked, letting go of Madeleine and aware that you were about to leave.

“Work.”

“But I thought you don’t have work today.” He said. Madeleine turned to you, moving his arms around her waist once more and looking at you with a smile.

“Now I do.” You responded. “I just think working is much better than doing nothing - you know - watching a wet blanket cling on to some old tool or teddy bear.” You said closing the door behind you. God that was gross. The remark itself made you smile, but you were still annoyed you couldn’t have the day in peace.

You kept yourself busy, catching up/texting a new friend of yours, Jonathan. You both met at a bar, while you were out with colleagues and had gotten to know each other better ever since. He was comfortable to be around, easygoing and hella handsome if you could say so yourself. After that you were sent to a crime scene, as part of an emergency to collect different samples for a double murder. Bond and his clingy girlfriend ceased to exist in your mind by the time you were off busy. However, by the time you returned home a few hours later, there was something off you sensed. You headed into the flat and suddenly realised there was a change. You looked around and found all the furniture in odd places, the television had moved into a strange area, far away from the window, the dining table was distanced all the way to the front door but the thing that ticked you off the most...your chemistry set moved.

“WHAT THE FUCK?” You shouted, seeing Madeleine move some more of the furniture around the flat.

“Oh hi!” She jumped and turned to see you with a smile but then she sensed your slight anger and frowned, “Sorry, James and I thought the flat could do with a little feng-shui, a change to feel a fresh breath of air.” She said swaying her long, expensive skirt towards you. God you were fuming, you felt the heat starting to boil inside you, your anger rapidly grew, it was getting harder and harder not to plant your fist into the wall.

“I’m currently choking in this air created by stupidity right now.” You growled, “Sorry, who said you could touch my equipment?”

“James.” She said looking down to her feet innocently, “He said that it was perfectly fine to move things for the sake of making room if that was going to make all of us feel more comfortable and at home.”

“Did he now?” You raised your eyebrow and balled your hands into a fist, your breathing grew quick and sharp, attempting not to stab Madeleine with your piercing glare.

“I had to.” Bond said as he walked in with a two cups of coffee, one for him and one for Madeleine, “You could do with a change, your work is cluttered everywhere. Madeleine said that such a mess brings negativity into the flat. She also said that it was good for the vibes in the flat and a positive home definitely brings a positive mind.”

“Who the fuck is she? A fucking monk? Don’t you presume to tell me about negativity when you kill people for a living!” You raised your voice, it was impossible not to rage, especially at the woman in front of you, who had irritated you in record breaking time. There were things you got angry about. Even though you were a sarcastic individual but one thing that ticked you off was when someone messed with your work. That was crossing the line, which she did.

“Y/N, oh my god I’m so sorry. Look if you don't like the way the flat is, I’ll put everything back.” She began hyperventilating in front of Bond, who began to glare at you as he rubbed her back.

“Yes that is what I want and I don’t want you to touch my shit again, that would be great. When are you leaving again?”

“Y/N…” He said sternly.

“What?!” You hissed at Bond.

“There’s no need to take out your anger out on Madeleine, she was just trying to help! You’re blowing this way out of proportion.”

“I’M DOING WHAT?” Your voice raised even louder, in disbelief.

“Y/N, A word please.” Bond said, as Madeleine looked at the two awkwardly. She began sniffling, which you thought was complete and utter bullshit then stormed off into the kitchen as James spoke to Madeleine.

“I was just trying to help…” She said, frowning, in a timid and terrified voice.

“It’s fine, love. I’ll get this sorted.” He kissed her cheek and gestured her to sit down then followed you into the kitchen.

You stood staring out at the window, holding both hands on the counter and looked down trying your best to slow your breathing as Bond watched you from behind, annoyed. He then headed over to you and flipped you around to look at him with a hard tug on the shoulder.

“What was the meaning of that?!” He asked.

“That was rude! Don’t grab my fucking shoulder!” You shoved his hand off it and almost went to hit him but you stopped yourself, glaring at him with your hands balled into fists, “You know I told you in confidence that I was married, you know that my work is very important to me, YOU KNOW that when you have a visitor in this flat they are YOUR responsibility and as your responsibility you make sure that no one touches my stuff! So why on earth did you let Dr Mindful Duck touch my chemistry set and files!”

“Her name is Madeleine and it’s not duck, it’s Swann.”

There was a silence between the two of you. You were both extremely close to each other and you felt the walls closing in on the both of you. The tension was there. The anger was definitely there. The sharp breathing and deadly sound of silence took over the kitchen for a brief moment before you said...

“Fuck you.” You spat, squinting your eyes in disbelief.

“I’m sorry I didn’t know you were going to get this angry! You being married to Q isn’t even a big deal, why are you complaining about it!”

“It’s not just that James. Who knows what kind of stuff you said about me behind my back! I thought we were friends! Friends don’t describe their friends to other people as a dirty, greasy nightclub bouncer do they? What have you said behind my back actually?”

“Nothing Y/N! I’ve said nothing!” He sighed, “Look, I know you don’t like your things being moved and I’ll deal with that myself. I’ll put it back. Just please go and apologise to Madeleine.”

“And why would I do that?!”

“Because you haven’t been nice to her or given her a chance the moment she walked through the door!” He hissed, “Here’s the reason you are struggling to make new friends, have you considered not being a complete arse from the beginning and trying to be friendly for once! Madeleine hasn’t been in London a minute and hardly knows her way around! She is out to impress you and you don’t even appreciate what she’s doing for you! You’re making life really difficult for me Y/N and I seriously don’t appreciate it when my own flatmate is butting heads with my girlfriend!”

Before you could come up with a smart remark, you smiled, “You know what? I’ll apologise. I’ll go and make yours and everyone else’s life easier and say sorry. Maybe I shouldn’t be an arse and give people a chance…”

“Really? Thank you.” He said, relieved and smiling. “And I’m sorry I grabbed you like that, I know it was wrong. I just want you two to get along. It’s really important you do.” He extended his hand, “No hard feelings?”

You looked at his hand, shaking your head, “No thank you. I don’t know where’s that been. And besides, you don’t want to shake hands with someone that is a complete arse,” You nudged passed him, and he rolled his eyes, sighing deeply, “Christ…”

The moment you stepped back into the front room, Madeleine jumped from her seat, waiting to hear from you. “So Madison-”

“It’s Madeleine.” She corrected quickly.

“Yeah - same thing. I’m sorry for being a dick, I know I can overreact sometimes and don’t really care about the other person’s feelings as much, which is awful…” You turned around and found James watching you expectantly with his arms folded, “I just wanted to say, I’m willing to start over if you are.” You smiled.

“That would be great! Thank you so much!” She said smiling, relieved and hugged you quickly, in which you didn’t respond to it, leaving your arms by your side. She really was an off person. You pushed away for a moment smiling - well you were actually freaked out by her strange behaviour, “Well, I’m just going to sort a few things out.” You turned around slowly and walked down the hall, “James I expect my shit back on the table otherwise tomorrow isn’t going to be fun for anyone.”

And with that, you left the two alone again.

“Is she always like that?” Madeleine asked James, who looked at your direction, watching you walk into your room with a smile.

“Unfortunately, she is. But don’t worry there's more to her beneath the surface.” He practically smirked, with his hands in his pockets.

“Excuse me?” She said, disapprovingly.

“What? Nothing.” He turned to her smiling and moved his arm around her waist, “I meant she’s more of an open person if you get to know her and much more friendlier.”

#007 #british #fanfic #daniel craig #james bond #james bond 007 #literature #mi6 #casino royale #fanfiction #london #movie #spy #books

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theafrodeity · 6 years ago

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Church Belles - Part 3

I glanced at the chrome clock on the wall once again. Only five minutes had gone by since the last time I had checked. Why does time move so slowly when you’re not having fun? Also why did we still have clocks with Roman numerals which delayed how long it took your brain to process time by at least another 2 seconds. The sheer irony of it all! I shifted around in my seat and grunted audibly. Ok, maybe I needed to calm down. “Sena, was there something you wanted to add to that?” Oko raised his bushy eyebrows at me. “No, I think we’ve gone over all our concerns. I’ll draft a letter of agreement and send it over to you by Friday.” My response was shrill as I tried to hide my impatience and irritation. “Sounds wonderful! Me daa se[1].” Mrs. Koranteng beamed, slamming her red talon-like acrylic nails on the conference room table. “Ok, let’s go over their sales numbers again so I can be sure I understand it.” It took all of my will power not to roll my eyes.

Had it been any other day, I would have been thrilled to be in Mrs. Koranteng’s presence. She was such a powerful force in Ghanaian second-hand goods trade, president of the Makola Market Women’s Association, and the main distributor of most household brands in the country. Her diamond rings almost blinded us as the rays of sunlight reflected off of them. Everything about this woman glistened and screamed opulence, from the stone beads bordering her gigantic kaba[2] sleeves, right down to her white teeth which contrasted her smooth glowy dark skin each time she gave me that wide I-have-fuck-you-money grin. Our most valued client, no doubt, and I was impressed by how quickly she had turned her inheritance from her late husband into a fortune at 42 years. Her constant show of affection and warmth masked how meticulous and ruthless she could be in negotiations. Growing up in the busy streets of Kumasi had toughened her up into becoming a master haggler. Her hands were slightly callused, perhaps remnants from an early farm life. Still she was comfortable with patiently letting the experts talk in circles before interjecting with tough questions or a final well thought out plan.

Today’s meeting was no exception. We were providing legal counsel for a new chain of supermarkets Mrs. Koranteng’s company, GyeNyame[3] Inc was acquiring and had presented a very detailed proposal. However, I quickly realized that this meeting might drag on longer than expected since Mrs. Koranteng did not want to spend a single pesewa[4] above what she considered to be a fair price. Then suddenly she glanced at her phone, smiled to herself and changed her mind. “Actually, I have to leave now but let’s schedule another meeting soon. I’ll review them with my accountant tomorrow. Thank you so much Mr. Quartey and Ms. Kondoh.” I could have hugged her in that moment but instead Oko and I shook hands with her and walked her to her Porsche. On the way back we speculated about whether the message on her phone had been from the young actor she was rumored to have been dating. Oko was a cool boss; very down-to-earth with a calm confidence. If he weren’t already married, we could have made a great couple because there was such an ease with our conversations and we rarely ever disagreed about anything. I glanced at my phone and noticed 5 missed calls from Carla. I was late for our bi-weekly nail appointment so I said goodbye to Oko and dashed down the hallway to head out to lunch.

Thirty minutes later, warm bubbles were caressing my feet and Akua the owner of Luxury Nails & Spa was diligently filing my finger nails. “You can’t keep me in suspense any longer. What happened?!”. Carla’s dramatic tone made me chuckle. She was sitting in the chair next to me. Her curly hair was cropped low and dyed blonde. She was wearing a loose colourful graffiti t-shirt which hugged her bra-less C-cup bosom, over ripped jeans shorts. For a second, I let the envy wash over me as I glanced down at my crisp white long-sleeved shirt and grey pleated skirt. Carla sold decorative pieces and modern African print clothing at the Art Centre and sang at the Jubilee Jazz bar to an audience of wealthy politicians on weekends for a living. She was able to afford a nice home and got to wear whatever she wanted during the week, while I worked 60-hour weeks in a skirt suit and still lived with my parents. However, I felt fortunate to still have one of my childhood best friends to hang out with routinely. Like the dating scene in Accra over the age of 30, female friends were also slim pickings as they all disappeared into domestic life after marriage. Somehow, fun edgy Carla insisted that she was living vicariously through me and kept pestering me for details about my date with Fiifi.

“What do you want me to say? We had a nice dinner and some wine and talked about life.” I avoided her eyes.

“Girl! I wanna hear about dessert though!” I burst out laughing at her ridiculous imitation of an African American accent.

Chills cut through my belly, the kind you got on a roller coaster ride, as flashes of the night before came back to me. I was hunched over the back of the sofa and my black dress had ridden up above my waist. Fiifi paused for what felt like a lifetime behind me before pulling my panties to the side and holding on to them like an equestrian gripping on to the reins of a prized thoroughbred. He whistled at the sight of my naked derrière and I felt a cool breeze against my exposed skin. Without warning he grabbed my waist and pushed up against me. The delicious pain shot through my abdomen, my thighs, then down my leg as I felt the first short thrusts. He started off with a slow rhythm, then gradually picked up speed until he was slamming into me. The clash of my wetness and wobbling behind against his muscular thighs created a slurping slapping melody that drove us both wild. “Please” I whispered urgently through gritted teeth. I wasn’t sure what my pleas were for but he seemed to understand because he smacked my ass in response and it sent fresh ripples of ecstasy through my body. He let go of my waist and gathered my braids into a pony tail pulling them towards him and arching my back. I screamed as the thrusts got deeper and felt a little ball of fire growing in my stomach causing me to hungrily push back against him. My vaginal walls instinctively clenched around his throbbing member trying to absorb every ounce of sensation from each movement. Out of nowhere he stopped and bent over to kiss me. I moaned and kissed him back hungrily.

“Seriously, you’re not gonna tell me?” Carla was jabbing at my shoulder now, snapping me out of my reverie. Akua had stopped filing my nails now and was waiting to hear my response too. “Fine, we might have made out a little bit.” I conceded, still flustered. Akua returned to her filing, evidently bored.

“Sena!! You’re so bad. You guys are like a thing now. When’s the wedding?”

“Hehehe. Oh we’re taking things slow. He literally just got divorced.”

“Good point. Things could get complicated. I think you should just try and have fun. You’re always so uptight.”

“Here we go again. Not all of us have sugar daddies sponsoring us low key.” I teased, knowing full well that Carla preferred women. Still she had gotten pregnant five years ago with a former minister who helped set up her shop.

“I wish! I get a few tips here and there but Amina is starting kindergarten soon and that means I need to step it up and make some more money.”

“Wow, she’s grown up so fast. Are you going to reach out to Jessica?”

Jessica, Carla and I had been dorm mates at St. Maria’s High School. Jessica had always intimidated me with how strictly she adhered to the school rules and how often she would scold Carla and I for being late to mass or for not making our beds before class when she was appointed school prefect. Somehow, she and Carla had gotten along fabulously even though Carla was the biggest deviant in our class.

One night I had snuck out of class during prep time, our mandatory night study session, to take a nap in our dorm room. Light sucking sounds greeted me in the darkness as soon as I opened the door - the silhouette of two young women rolling around on Carla’s bed playing out before me. Jessica and Carla panicked when I let out a cough thinking it was our house mistress. They later begged me not to tell a single soul and I had remained tight-lipped for over a decade. Nevertheless, Jessica had never forgiven me for walking in on them and had only grown more distant over the years as if it were somehow my fault for discovering their secret.

“She’s Sister Jessica now, don’t forget.” Carla corrected me. “Yes, I have an interview with her on Friday. Wanna come with? I might need backup.”

“Err…ok. If you insist. I’m still not sure why even you need to go through an interview process to enrol your child.” Carla knew Jessica and I didn’t quite get along. We had even less in common now that she was a nun and the headmistress of a catholic preparatory school.

“Oh I think it’s just a formality. Any excuse to see me, I guess.” Carla and I both giggled knowingly.

[1] Means Thank you in Akan.

[2] A festive traditional blouse for women

[3] A popular saying meaning “Except with God”, a longer translation meaning something can only be accomplished with God’s help

[4] Lower unit of Ghanaian currency, no longer in use.

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angustdtt · 8 years ago

Text

Never Less Than Amazing Pt.1~ BTS SUGA

Anonymous asked: Can I have a suga fic where his girlfriend is feeling insecure about her body ( short, big boobs,& Thick thighs) and he comforts her ( if you write smut can you include some please thanks :))))

A/N: Hello!! Thanks for requesting Nonnie! Ok, so unfortunately i didn’t added the smut bit in here, i honestly kinda suck at it Orz so i’m sorry i can’t fufill that part of the request, however this is meant to have a Pt 2! If you like this i will upload Pt 2 with the smut, but since i wasn’t sure i decided to leave it out and revise it extra hard... Hope you like it still!! <3 Pt2 Word Count: 3499 Genre: Fluffy/Smut Pairing: YoongixY/N Lenght: Fic Triggers: Insecurities

Masterlist

You finished cooking your boyfriend’s favorite plate, and previously you had ordered an angel cake as dessert. You were very excited,so much you even prepared the table and lit some candles before time, and dress with that short black dress you bought for today. Today was gonna be special. It had been around a year since you started dating Min Yoongi, and today was your anniversary, To be honest you didn’t exactly had a set date of your anniversary,the relationship between you two had been escalating from friendship to something more formal so quickly neither of you remembered when the dating actually started, since you two knew each other you’d always hang out just the two of you, half the time it wasn't even a planned beforehand going out to some public place, or simply stay inside, the good thing about you both relation was that you felt completely comfortable with one another. But one day it changed. One day getting back home you were both goofing around and joking about anything, when both reached for the others hand, the gesture was mirrored at the exact same time, and neither found it strange, later that night, when you were back at your apartment without hesitation Yoongi leaned in and kissed you, and in perfect sync again you reached to him and hold him close to your body, and all it seemed so natural you two end up laughing between kisses, the night ended outside enjoying the light breeze of the night and with your face hurting from all the smiling, just talking about you two. And that is how you choose a date, after that event happened. Everyday you spent with Yoongi after that was just like any other, only that now you were kissing him every chance you could. But today, you wanted to do something special. You wanted to do something you were meaning to ask of him and do with him about after a week from the kiss, but never had the courage to complete, because there was one little problem… Your insecurities. Since you entered your teenage years, the way you are perceived by others around you always bothered you, and it made you anxious. You always ended up comparing to your classmates or your friends, you always felt judged about not being average tall, having big boobs and thick tights,thought there were days when you couldn’t care less about what people thought of you, but there were others when you would even sacrifice going out with anyone if you started to have that hunting feeling of being observed, even by yourself on the mirror. You hated having your brain picturing random scenarios of what people might say of what you were wearing or how’d you look. And this caused you to hide under loose clothes or under the sheets of your bed. This night however, was gonna be different, you were gonna try your best to be confident because this was gonna become special night for you, and hopefully for him as well.

You did your best to arrange yourself for when he arrived to you apartment, but having to examine yourself in front of the mirror of the bathroom only made you feel depressed, before your mind could think anything you splashed cold water on your face and without looking at the rest of you, you started to put on some makeup. You grabbed your phone and saw you had some messages from you boyfriend Yoongi: Hey Babe, i think I’m gonna be a bit late, i’m so sorry… Yoongi: Nvm that, i’m got off fast! Can’t wait to see you! Yoongi: I bought something special for tonight, be ready ;)

You couldn’t help but smile at this,Yoongi was always so thoughtful and cute with you, he was always so big-hearted with you, he wouldn’t hesitate to buy anything for you, no matter what. One time you randomly said “damn, i’m craving some ice cream right now” at almost 2am in the morning, and he just casually said “MMk be right back” and swooshed out the door even before you could stop him. He came back with the ice cream and you slapped him a bit for taking a risk going late at night to just get you ice cream, but also lowkey kissed him thanks and cuddle with him watching some videos on your laptop eating the ice cream. You were now feeling nervous, you wanted to avoid it but you went inside the bathroom again to check your makeup on the mirror...and you saw yourself. You sighed, you smile disappeared you now pulled the fabric of your dress trying to cover yourself up. “This dress is too short, my thighs look enormous, and the boobs look weird, like they falling to my knees, oh my god...oh my god, this was a bad idea, tch, i'm just gonna wear something else...maybe that long dress with sleeves, my arms look wrong too, tch...i put on too much make up, yoongi won’t like this. Ugh, my make up is the smallest of things, He can’t see me naked...all of this is wrong.” You felt tears starting to pool in your eyes, your mascara was washing away with them, quickly you grabbed a tissue and carefully cleaned your eyes. You tried to calm yourself, your face was red so you breathed in and out, your heart raced and your legs felt weak. You wanted to call yoongi, said you weren’t feeling well and crawl in your bed to sleep, But you couldn’t “This is a special day for him too, don’t do that, think of him, just try to have fun and spend a good evening ok?” you looked at yourself on the mirror, grabbing at the sink “You can change your clothes, or not! You look fine, stop thinking stuff like this, and you don’t have to do anything that makes you feel uncomfortable yes?, you can wait, you both can, don’t worry...he understands you know that…” You nodded at your reflection and tried to smile “Fighting!” you shouted mentally. You did as you said, you changed your clothes, to a knee long light mustard skirt, you thighs were out of sight but you still looked good, and you choose a cute black butterfly sleeved blouse, finishing it up with a waist belt and some ankle strap platforms. You felt a lot more comfortable and confident again. You heard the elevator outside in the hall, you patted your heart and gather your strength. The knock on the door made you jump a little, but you walked forward and opened the door, a very serious looking yoongi was on the other side, but as soon as he turned and looked at you from head to toe his eyes sparkled and showed you his gummy smile. He had his big backpack over his shoulders and a plastic bag on his hand, his black hair was messy and he looked tired, but his clothes were impeccable, obviously he dressed up too for the occasion and of course he looked handsome as hell.

‘Hey Princess...’ He eyed you with a smug look on his face.

‘Hi Charming...’ You winked to him and acted coy, he chuckled at that with his deep voice getting closer to you and giving you a quick peck on your lips, He looked deep into your eyes and without taking his gaze of you he left the backpack and the plastic bag on the floor and returned to you grabbing your face with his hands and stroking your cheeks with his fingers, he leaned in again to kiss you, this time more longingly for you, you grabbed his lower back and got him closer to you returning the kiss with the same intensity. After a couple of minutes you needed to breath so you gently pushed him away and he grudgingly took a step back.

‘Are you hungry?’ You asked him. He nodded grabbing his stuff from the floor again ‘I made dinner...’ His eyes opened up

‘Wait...what did you do with my lazy girlfriend?’ He joked placing a hand on his chest acting surprised and shocked.

‘She got up her ass and made delicious food for both of us, but can spit on your food if you piss her off’ You kissed him on the cheek and head off to the kitchen.

‘Fair enough...I bought some wine and...a stack of snacks for if you feel like watching a movie, and of course digestive tea for later cause you don't have more, for when you feel ill from eating all the snacks at once’ he rolled his eyes smiling softly and so did you, he placed a peck on your forehead and walked to the dinner table. “He’s so amazing...” you thought getting back to the kitchen, he spoke like if all his little kind attentions were nothing, but your heart warmed up every time he had them, not only with you, but to others too, he had an affectionate heart and you felt lucky to be his girlfriend. He placed the wine on the table and went to the kitchen to grab the corkscrew pinching your butt on his way out without looking back at your reaction, but hearing you cute little squeak of surprise. Your thoughts from before faded away, you were concentrated on serving the food and hoping he would like it. When you got to the table Yoongi already had the glasses with wine on them and was left baffled by the presentation of the food before him, he looked happy and not tired anymore. The light of the candles adorned his features softly, his eyes looked sweetly and lovingly at you while you explained him how you did all this by yourself proudly. His smile glowed and his head tilted every time you chuckled. You both toasted and drinked up the beverage.The evening was extremely romantic, you would reached food to his mouth and he would open his mouth without thinking, then savour it and gestured as if he was crying because the food was the most exquisite thing to him, you were having so much fun and couldn’t remember why you were feeling sad before. Yoongi always had that ability of taking your mind off of the things that depressed you and he told you in other occasions it was the same for him.

‘I got you something...’ He said suddenly while you nommed on your last piece of meat.

‘You mean snacks wasn’t the whole surprise?’ You asked him confused, he blinked.

‘Of course not you goober’ he rolled his eyes and reached under his chair.

‘Here you butt nugget...’ He handed you a black little case, you put down your fork and grabbed it from his hands, you looked back at him shocked.

‘For me?’ You asked.

‘It’s actually for my other girlfriend, the one that actually gets that I got her a present for our anniversary…’ He said sarcastically rubbing his chin

‘So Jin?’ You answered him. He scoffed closing his eyes. You laughed ‘Thank you’ You simply said.

‘Happy Anniversary Y/N’ he seemed embarrassed about it, his cheeks flushed a soft red, licked his lips looking at the case in your hands and then back at you waiting to see your reaction. You slowly opened the case to reveal a beautiful silver bracelet with a couple of birds engraved and between their peaks a delicate pearl.You took it off of the case and looked at it marvelled by its simplicity and yet how beautiful it was. You stroke the pearl with you index finger and felt the smoothness of it, your eyes began to feel teary and you look up to see Yoongi who was examining your features.

‘I love it Yoongi! Thank you so much, it’s beautiful’ You laughed and he did as well.

‘Here’ He said dragging his chair closer to you ‘Let me help you’ He grabbed the the accessory carefully with his hands and delicately helped you to hook the chain on your wrist.

‘Thank you so much...’you said again staring at him, your heart was pumping and you felt butterflies in your stomach.

‘I’m glad you liked it’ He said not looking at your too concentrated on the task at hand but still blushing once again. ‘There’ he finished, you twirled the pearl.

‘I didn’t got you anything!’ you half shouted. ‘Oh my god, i feel terrible’ you grabbed your cheeks. Yoongi gestures with his hands

‘Aish, you don’t have to buy me anything, i didn’t buy it because of our anniversary i bought it because i thought you would like it, and it would look cute on you’ he caressed your wrist and the chain as well. ‘And it does...’ he half smiled. You made up your mind. You were definitely gonna go on what was your original plan. No hesitation.

‘Yoongi...’ you called him while still caressed your arm.

‘Hmm?’ you took him out of his state, you inhaled got sat up and then grabbed his hand and made him follow you, ‘Y/N?’ he sounded surprised but since you didn’t answer he just keep up with you.You entered your room and gulped while turning around to face your confused boyfriend. He alternated his eyes between the bed and you repeatedly,taking a seat on it you both remained in silence, just looking at each other, an awkward silence lingered in the room. Against all your impulses you were determined to take the big step with Yoongi, he was gonna be your first ever, those harmful thought from before threatened to come back and haunt you once more but you tried to quiet them.

‘Y/N-’ He started shyly, but was cut off by you crashed your lips with his, this only made Yoongi more confused but you started to take deep breaths biting his lip anxiously, and he decided to just roll with it returning your kisses. You placed your hand on the back of his neck grabbing his hair between your fingers trying to deepen the kiss, as soon as you started to calm a little more the kiss returned to his sweet yet passionate nature, he did as always and tried to get you as close as possible to him, lost in the kiss he grabbed one of your thighs to place it over his lap so you would straddle him, but you instinctively flicked his hand off, you felt bad right after doing it but he didn’t seem to care that much, he moved on to stroking your back not breaking the kiss, you straddle him nevertheless but your skirt got in the way, he tried to help you by lifting it a bit but you pulled it down as much as you can to cover yourself, he grabbed your ass and squeezed but you tried to shake him off so you changed positions and pull him in a swift move so he ended on top of you. He was resting his weight on one arm and with the other he started to slide a hand fondling your neck and lowering his trail onto your chest, but then again you hand flicked him off, and Yoongi broke the kiss but didn’t separate from you ‘Babe i like it when you play hard to get but please don’t flick my hand again or i’ll have to punish you’ he said jokingly, but then he noticed your distressed face ‘what’s wrong Y/N?’ He moved away from you and you sat straight. ‘I’m sorry Yoongi’ your tears threaten to star pooling but Yoongi pull you close to him and rubbed your back and head. ‘Why?, No, babe is fine, i’m sorry if i said or did something wrong, i didn’t wanted to push you to do anything...’ He talked lowly trying to comfort you.

‘No, it’s not you, i want this...but....’ You looked at him ‘I-...I don’t feel comfortable, with me...’ Yoongi was looking at you, he seemed worried, he crossed his eyebrows.

‘How? Why?’ He slide a hand caressing your arm.

‘I mean...’ you sniffled looking away. ‘I don’t feel comfortable with my body, i don’t want you too feel...i don’t know repulsed ?’ He scrunched his nose to this word but remained quiet listening to you. ‘I don’t want you to see me, but i want to do this with you. I sometimes hate myself...how i look’ You hiccup , then dried some tears,starting to roll from your eyes with your ring finger. ‘Y/N’ He called, you bite your lip and looked at him, but what you saw left you petrified, he was also at the edge of tears, he was pouting trying to hold it in, and closing his eyes ‘I know that you had problems with how your image of yourself, but i never knew that you thought i could ever look at you and ever feel “repulsed” by you’ he quoted you felt a hard pinch on your stomach when he repeated that word. Your words. and opened his eyes to look at you, his eyes were full of sympathy but also sadness, yourself couldn’t fully understand why you picked that one but now you felt guilty for saying it to him ‘Y/N i understand that you feel this way about yourself we all do at some point and i know it's useless that i tell you this, but it’s the truth, but Y/N there is nothing that i see in you other than the woman i love...’ you gulped at his words and electricity runned up your spine, you chest sink with joy ‘Maybe you can’t see it yourself, but i see it all the time, you are beautiful, smart, funny and sometimes a little maddening like when i wait for you to stop taking pictures of every single according to you “pretty” thing you see on the street’ you chuckled ‘But you are also kind, and generous, and thoughtful, you are always so pending on others you start to diminish yourself when you should do the opposite and think of all the wonderful other things you are’ He took your hands on his and tighten his grip ‘Things that outstand the most on you’ he kissed your hands, and all those ba thoughts started to wash away ‘But let’s not get philosophical here…have you seen like... your ass?’ he asked lifting an eyebrow, this question took you by surprise and you started to laugh out loud and shake, Yoongi was still looking at you all red and puffy due to your tears but now with your breathtaking smile and your melodic -except for some snorts in between- laugh. ‘I have’ you answered. ‘No no, i mean, did you really see yourself?’ He pointed at you whole

‘Like...hard and long? You are fly...’ He said smug making you laugh even more. ‘Don’t laugh i’m serious...’ He was enjoying making you feel more relaxed, if someone asked him what he needs for the rest of his life to survive is a book of 1.000.000 bad pun jokes -because you love them- and you. ‘The things you do to me babe, and you act so natural about it like you are effortlessly ravishing and you just casually walk by and you just didn’t catch the eyes of everyone in the room with your glowing presence ’ You cocked your head raising one eyebrow in disbelief. ‘I mean...’ He coughed ‘Whatever...’ you grinned. ‘ Y/N...never think you are less than amazing...to me, to anyone...’ You nodded ‘And to you...’ He placed a strand of loose hair behind your ear ‘And if you feel this way again, talk to me please...i don’t ever want you to feel bad about yourself ok?’ You nodded again, you leaned in and kissed him,kissed him deeply, straddling him you wavered off balance but Yoongi quickly hold you in place embracing you bending his head upwards to meet you, you mouth melded into his and the tip of his tongue brushed your lower lip, you slide your hands across his chest trying to undo the buttons of his shirt when suddenly Yoongi started to slow down to talk

‘Y/N we don’t have to do this now’ his arms began to lose their grip around you but not drawing you away from his body. ‘We can wait...’ You laughed into his lips.

‘Maybe you can...but not me’ getting anxious you ripped his shirt half open leaving Yoongi startled by your strength and making him hard in a blink.

‘Oh shit...’ his deep voice quivered.

#BTS #BTS Imagine #BTS Fic #BTS Scenario #BTS Smut #BTS yoongi #Min yoongi #yoongi #suga #agusd #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #fic #bts fan fic #bangtan boys #cracktan

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