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wintfleur · 1 year ago

Note

Stella was so excited Rutger got a hatty. She gave him so many kisses.

ꔫ hat tricks and kisses

°. — pairings ( Estella Hughes oc! X Rutger McGroarty )

°. — details ( g; fluff, so much fluff. w; kissing, slight cursing, sex jokes. wc; 1.4K)

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( CAPTAIN RUT HATTY!!! I actually screamed when I saw it! My gallery is literally filled with a ton of screenshots of rut from this interview, HES SO PRETTY?!?! I couldn’t help it. I just had to make this into a blurb, I hope you guys enjoy! Also ty for requesting, PLEASE DON’T BE A SILENT READER 🫶🏻 )

°. — ( feel free to send any requests of things you would like to see in this series, or if you just want to share some thoughts! I would absolutely love that! Please comment if you would like to be added to the tag list! )

au masterlist — you can find asks under #💌stellahughes!

°. — asks about stella and rut are under #⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🩷୧˚ stella & rut!

Stella loved the thrill she felt whenever she watched hockey, especially if someone she loved was out on the rink playing. There was just something so special being present and watching the world juniors. She was there to watch her brothers and friends play the years before, and this year she was watching her boyfriend. It was a well-known thing that Stella was quite the cheerleader in the stands, even if she was surrounded by fans of the opposite team she still would cheer for her team. So, she wasn't going to let a half empty arena stop her from screaming her lungs out for her boyfriend and his team.

As soon as she saw the puck go into the net she was up on her feet, jumping up and down as she cheered loudly for her boyfriend who just scored his first goal since his injury. Seeing the grin on his face as he celebrated with his teammates only made her cheer louder. When he scored his second goal, she nearly spilled her soda from jumping to her feet so fast, her throat was already hurting from her cheers and her cheeks hurt from all her smiling.

But she didn't care for the soreness as she cheered her heart out along with the people around her when Rutger scored his hat trick. She had jumped to her feet and cheered loudly, a happy laugh leaving her grinning lips when she saw Rutger point at her from the ice after celebrating with his teammates. Stella giggled shyly and blew him a kiss before sitting back down. Stella was absolutely buzzing for the rest of the game, her smile not leaving her face, she was so proud of her boyfriend and his team.

Stella just couldn't wait until after the game so she could see him. Seeing that big smile on his face and the sparkle in his eyes as he celebrated his goals made her a little emotional as she watched, especially since she knew he was being a little hard on himself for his gameplay. She stood on her feet and clapped as team USA won, and when the game was over, she waited in the stands a little, knowing that they had interviews and things to do after. But after a while she practically skipped to wait outside of the locker room, smiling politely at everyone she passed.

She leaned against the wall and took her phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and started scrolling through her text messages, answering the ones from her parents and siblings who were sending congrats texts to Rutger. “Hey stella” she looked up from her phone when she heard her name, and a smile resurfaces on her lips. Walking up to her was a smiling Frank Nazer and a shy Gabe Perreault following after him.

“Hey guys! Congratulations on your win” Stella greeted frank with a side hug and a sweet smile to Gabe who she hasn't talked much to. They both thanked her, and Frank couldn't help but chuckle at the few sizes too big McGroarty jersey she was wearing, it obviously was one of ruts. “Forget to pack your own jersey?” frank teases. Gabe just stood next to him awkwardly, a little shy and intimidated to be in Stella Hughes company.

“Yeah, and rut refused to let me come not wearing his jersey” Stella laughs as she remembered the conversation they had earlier and the cute pout on her boyfriend's lips when he saw her all dressed up without a jersey on. Stella always wore his jersey to his games, Rutger loved knowing that his pretty girl had his last name on her back in the stands. Letting everyone know she is with him.

“Well don't worry your lover boy should be out soon” Frank teases, the trio say their goodbyes and the two world juniors' players continue to walk away from the locker room. She smiled at Rutgers teammates who left the locker room, most of them saying hi to her. Of course, they knew who she was, how could they not with how much their captain talked about her. Stella scrolled through her phone for another 5 minutes before she heard her name being called by a smiling Seamus, a grinning Rutger following behind him and rushing towards her.

Stella stops leaning against the wall and before she could congratulate her boyfriend and their friend she was pulled into a big hug and lifted off her feet. Stella giggles and wraps her arms around Rutgers shoulders and nestling her face into his neck “You did so good” she whispered between the soft kisses she placed on his neck. Rutger grins at her words and places a kiss on her temple before pulling his head back to look down at her.

“You played so well rut, m’so proud” Stella said with her dimpled smile, bringing one of her hands from his shoulder to cup his cheek, the pad of her thumb rubbing his cheek gently as they stared into each other's eyes. Rutger didn't care that there were people around him, all he could focus on was Stella and the happiness he felt. He moved his hands from Stella's waist and brought them up to cup Stella's Rosie cheeks from the cold, and eagerly leaned down to lock her lips into a kiss.

Stella’s usually not the one for kissing in public but she quickly followed his lead. Her head tilted to the side at how passionate he was kissing her, her other hand moving from his shoulder to his hat to turn it backwards before her hand moved to his nape and softly tugs on his wet hair from his shower. Rutger groans at the feeling and chases after her lips, while one of his hands moves from her cheek and down her back to slide into the back pocket of her jeans and squeezes her ass softly.

“Poor will’s not gonna get any sleep tonight with you two as his neighbor” Seamus snorts as he watches the couple finally part for air. He wasn't used to seeing the couple so touchy like that in front of others, in front of him. Stella has an embarrassed smile on her red cheeks and hides her face in Rutgers chest, she couldn't believe that she basically just made out with her boyfriend in public…in front of their friend. Rutgers chest shakes with laughter, turning his head to look at Seamus with a playful grin “be a good friend and buy him some earplugs?”

Seamus laughs and mutters a quick good luck to Stella before patting Rutger on the back and walking away from the couple. Stella lifts her head from her boyfriend's chest and smiles up at him, her eyes were filled with love as her mind replayed that moment of his scoring his hat trick and the smile on his face, she was insanely proud of him. Rutger looks away from his retreating friend and back to his girlfriend, a shy smile on his lips by the way she was staring at him

“What?”

“I'm just so proud of you” Stella whispered sweetly, leaning up to place a few kisses along his jaw and on his flushed cheeks. Rutgers eyes close at the soft feeling of her kisses, basking in the feeling of her touch and words. He felt a weight being lifted off his shoulders, he had tried his best to stay positive, but he knew before he wasn't playing his best, but today showed him that he still had it. The win, The Hat Trick, was great, but it was even better because Stella was there with him.

“I love you so much” Rutgers voice is filled with emotion and all he wants to do is take his girlfriend back to their hotel room so he could really show her how much he loves her. Stella smiles and places a few more kisses on his cheek before pecking his lips a few times and whispering against them “I love you most.”

“C’mon let's get out of here” Stella grinned as she grabbed onto Rutgers hand and pulled him away from the locker room. Rutger laces his fingers with hers and picks up his duffle bag from the floor and follows his girlfriend. Rutger looks at Stella's side profile, his eyes lingering on her pink lips “Where too?”

“To the closest store” Stella tells him as they make their way to the exit of the rink, Stella sees the confused look Rutger gives her and she gives him a teasing smile as she leans closer to him and whispers in his ear with a wink. “To buy will some earplugs of course” Rutger pulls her closer to his side and eagerly pulls her out of the rink and to the cars, his other hand already trying to pull his phone out of his bag to search up directions to the nearest store.

˖ ་ 💭 roro’s notes ( they drive me crazy! Confirmed Gabe Perreault has a small crush on Stella! )

°. — taglist ( @privatemythss @juraj-slafkovsky @cixrosie @toasttt11 )

#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨👩🏻‍🎨୧˚ stella hughes au!#⋆ ˚｡⋆୨🩷୧˚ stella & rut!#💌stellahughes!#hockey #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #umich hockey #rutger mcgroarty x reader #rutger mcgroarty #rutger mcgroarty imagine #umich x reader #umich imagine #umich boys #hughes sister

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fizzyxcustard · 8 months ago

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For Her Or My Country?

Fandom: Spooks

Pairing: Lucas North x OC (Amy Holland)

Warning: Non-graphic smut, insecurity, language

Word count: 3731

Summary: Lucas has been given an assignment which means potentially sleeping with a subject who is linked to a Russian subject of interest. After discussing with Amy, will he put his relationship or duty to country first?

Notes: As always, if you wish to be added to my Forever Tag list, let me know. Or you can request to be added to a list for a specific character/fandom. Please contact me if you wish to be added or removed.

Comments and reblogs are always appreciated. :) Any comment at all.

Read on AO3 here

Masha Petrova. Beautiful. Elegant. Rich. Holder of intelligence that MI5 needed. And Lucas had been assigned to the case. Being able to speak Russian himself and having a vast knowledge of the culture and risks that were posed to the United Kingdom, it was only natural that Lucas be placed on this case.

The team of Section D were all seated in the main briefing room, watching as photos appeared on the screen, flipping every few seconds. Harry described each one and gave background to all the subjects and contexts of them.

Lucas was to go undercover in two days’ time, posing as a potential client for Masha Petrova’s prestigious art gallery. She would be hosting an auction, where paintings worth millions of pounds were to be sold, and the money then transferred to her ex-husband, Konstantin Sidorov. But the man had disappeared three years earlier. He was a ghost, with his last movement being on a flight back to Moscow and then nothing. Her motives behind keeping in such close contact with her ex-husband were being questioned.

“Jo will be on standby,” Harry began. He turned to the bleach blonde woman who sat two seats down from him. Her large blue eyes were locked on him, waiting for her instruction. “We’ll need you to mingle with the men, stroke their egos.” That normally meant sleep with them if necessary. “Lucas, Masha is known to always have a string of attractive men on her arm who wish to warm her bed…”

That was it. Amy, desk-based intelligence officer, and also Lucas’ girlfriend of ten months, felt bile rise in her throat. She looked at the photo of Masha Petrova and felt that stab of intense self-hatred rise. This was the kind of woman that Lucas should have been with, not her. He deserved beauty and elegance, not someone like Amy who rarely wore make up and dressed constantly in jeans.

Now Amy knew why she had been kept off the case for as long as she had. With Ruth Evershed on long-term sick leave, the team were bursting at the seams with workload and needed another pair of hands. Amy was the only person available.

Harry gave both Jo and Lucas a briefing pack, outlining their identities which they would need to learn over the next forty eight hours.

Lucas looked down the table at Amy and could see the bright red flush of her cheeks, paired with her inability to keep her eyes out of her lap. He could see her hands moving beneath the table, a sign of her fidgeting, which she always did when nervous. Every expression and movement was something that Lucas had become intimately acquainted with.

Once the meeting had concluded, Harry requested that Lucas stay behind. Everyone else got to their feet, stretching due to the length of time they had all been sitting. Amy dashed out of the room first, being closest to the door. Tears were prickling her eyes. For most of the meeting her imagination had been running wild, churning over a vivid vision of Lucas and Masha Petrova in an erotic position. Amy’s chest tightened, causing her to flap her arms to try and get more air.

“Are you alright?” Jo asked, approaching Amy.

Amy smiled weakly at Jo, knowing that it had always been impossible for her to lie about her feelings. She was transparent, unable to mask any negative feelings. She couldn’t answer.

“I’ll make us a coffee and we can pop outside for some fresh air, yeah?” Jo proposed.

Amy nodded, feeling as if her friend’s kindness was about to open the floodgates and the tears would never stop. But she swallowed hard, feeling the pain in her throat. That damn floodgate would remain closed, even if it killed her.

Outside a few minutes later and Jo lit a cigarette and the two of them stood on the balcony, which gave them a view of London. It was grey and overcast. The colour of the sky was threatening rain.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Jo asked.

Amy’s green eyes darted this way and that, anywhere so they didn’t have to focus on Jo. “I don’t know,” she said softly. Then she sighed, and looked out over the Thames. “I just….I always knew this was something that would probably come, but I hoped it wouldn’t.”

“Believe me, Amy, Harry wouldn’t have asked Lucas to do this unless absolutely necessary. He knows the moral dilemma and risks all of us face when we’re asked to go into situations like this.”

Amy took a sip of her coffee. “Why is it always our morals and lives that we have to sacrifice?” Amy knew all this when taking the position, but now that she was here, facing the prospect of her boyfriend having to essentially cheat on her, it was worse than she could have ever imagined.

Those words caused tears to slip down Amy’s cheeks, which she rubbed away angrily with the sleeve of her cardigan. “Lucas loves his job so much, and I should have always known that I would never be truly first.”

“Amy, it’s not that, and you know it isn’t. He loves you. But the world we live and work in is a dark one, so much darker than people on the outside ever realise.”

“I’m still human, Jo, and I think I’m allowed to feel betrayed and heartbroken when my boyfriend has been told to sleep with someone else.”

Jo watched Amy hang her head in shame and defeat. She knew that Amy had incredibly low self-esteem and had been living in constant shock for the last ten months that Lucas would even be interested in her. But Jo could see the chemistry between her two colleagues; Amy’s kindness towards Lucas, and his ability to make Amy feel seen and heard. Even before their relationship had begun, and Jo knew that they would be a perfect couple, despite Amy always having voiced how little she thought of herself. The two of them may not have looked as though they would date, when considering the way they carried themselves, but their interactions cemented the fact they complimented each other perfectly.

Back in the office a short while later and Amy took a seat at her desk. She pulled out her drawer and picked out a Mars bar from the multipack. It was the only thing that could distract her from the fact that Lucas was sitting a few feet away from her, watching. She knew that he knew she was feeling emotional turmoil. If she had to look at him then she would break down.

Tariq’s desk was behind Amy’s and he could see Lucas’ blue gaze studying her. Tariq watched in fascination for a minute and then turned his attention back to making minor amendments to Jo’s briefing pack. For once, he could see that Amy wasn’t smiling at Lucas or gazing at him, but instead keeping her gaze away. In his mind, anyone who didn’t notice Amy’s reactions must have been blind.

For the next hour and Amy took up her time in a meeting with Ros, discussing the ANPR data results for a subject they had been investigating. At least for now, Amy could put her mind elsewhere.

Meanwhile, Lucas remained quiet at his desk, feeling Tariq’s gaze burning into the back of his head. It had been common knowledge amongst all of the staff at Section D, that Tariq had a crush on Amy. All except Amy herself.

Once Amy had emerged from the side room with Ros, Lucas got up and approached her. He stood with his back to everyone else and Amy with her back to the wall, looking down at her, almost shielding her from prying eyes. “Do you want to head out for something to eat?” he asked. Then he pulled his hands from his jeans pocket and picked up her hand, feeling her warm skin against his for a couple of seconds. But he frowned when he saw her look at the floor; he could see her throat quivering. He dropped her hand.

Amy swallowed hard and looked up at him, feeling the overwhelming emotion wash over her. It was painful, so painful. Her beautiful, perfect Lucas. He was Amy’s everything and for some unknown reason, he also wanted her.

“Come on,” Lucas whispered, holding his hand out to her to take.

Amy knew she couldn’t deny him and took his large hand in her small one.

Together, they walked out of the office, and into the mid-day air. It was drizzling, forming a mist in their hair as they walked the two streets to their usual café. They were both quiet for the duration of their walk, with the hustle and bustle of the busy London streets washing around them.

Lucas grabbed his wallet from his back pocket and didn’t even have to ask Amy what she wanted. She’d already made up her mind and was on her way to grab a table. “A strawberry smoothie and a cheese and onion toastie, please,” her voice drifted back over her shoulder.

Lucas sighed and placed their order. Every now and again he would glance towards her, noticing how she still wouldn’t look at him. Instead, she grabbed her sketchbook from her handbag and began to touch up one of her latest drawings.

Suddenly Amy was taken aback as her sketchbook was pulled away from under her face, just as she rested her pencil tip against the paper.

Lucas sat down. “Look at me,” he said sharply.

“Give me my book back.”

“No, you’ll talk to me. Your drawings can wait.”

“What do you want me to say, Lucas?” Amy said, her tone low and her words to the point. “If you had to watch me go and sleep with a man as part of an operation, I’m sure you wouldn’t be particularly happy about it.”

“Of course I wouldn’t,” Lucas hissed. “But this is our job. You know what’s at stake if I don’t do it.”

“Keeping the country safe and all that crap. Yes, I know,” Amy scoffed. “I’m reminded of that every day. Funny how you’re always paired with the beautiful, elegant women.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Lucas snapped.

Amy rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

A young woman with blonde hair tied back into a ponytail came and set Amy’s food down on the table, along with hers and Lucas’ drink. She offered a quick smile, immediately recognising the familiar signs of a lover’s tiff.

“No food?” Amy asked.

“Can’t say I’ve got an appetite.”

“Just fatten me up like a pig, then.”

Lucas grit his teeth and closed his eyes, clasping his hands together on the table. He knew her defensive attitude all too well when she became overwhelmed by self-consciousness. Passive-aggression and sarcasm tainted her words as she tried to fling painful darts back at him.

“Not here, please,” Lucas begged. His voice was quiet, full of defeat.

Amy at least silently acquiesced to his request and slipped back into her seat, nibbling on the edge of her toasted sandwich. She adored the very breath of the man sat in front of her, and she was sure he knew that. But she couldn’t bring herself to look him in the eye, and instead let her gaze trace the crisscross stitch of the red and white tablecloth.

Lucas sipped his coffee and watched Amy for a few seconds before sighing, resigning his gaze toward the framed quote behind her on the wall. It was some cliché shit that seemed to belong on every mantlepiece in the UK, apart from his and Amy’s. Instead, Amy had a line of Disney character figurines across hers, and the thought of it made a smile emerge on his face. This woman he had committed himself to had no idea how amazing and beautiful she was. Curious. Quirky. The kindest person he had ever met. Unbelievably strong of mind and spirit. Underestimated herself. Broken by the arseholes who had taken advantage of her introverted and generous nature.

One way or the other, he would repair her. No ifs, buts or maybes. He would repair her.

***

The flat was dark as Amy stepped back inside. Lucas was required for a further meeting regarding the new operation with Masha Petrova, so wouldn’t be home for a further hour or two yet.

The isolation enveloped her along with the dark.

Tears flowed down Amy’s cheeks as she finally allowed the locked floodgates to open. She dropped back into a chair in the dining room and sobbed. Amy would never be good enough for Lucas, always sitting in the shadow of other women. Everything that they were reflected what Amy wasn’t. These women reminded her of the dark shadow of lack which lived in her chest.

Tension soon began to press down behind Amy’s eyes as she prepared hers and Lucas’ dinner. It felt like a huge weight was crushing Amy from above, pressing her down into the ground as her whole body became weak.

Cheesy 80’s music played on the radio in the small box kitchen, and not even that could lift Amy out of her prison of darkness. All she could think of was Lucas with Masha Petrova. No doubt he would enjoy it. Of course he would. Being ridden by a blonde supermodel of a woman, with the confidence to fully express her sexuality.

It had taken Amy a few months to become more confident in bed with Lucas. It wasn’t until they’d been together for six months that Amy could finally make love to him without the light turned off and not feel the need to shrink back at his touch. Now she openly enjoyed his touch, reciprocating it. But those whispers would still creep up on her when they lay together afterwards, telling her how unworthy she was of such a beautiful man’s love.

Amy loved Lucas with her whole heart, having never felt so drawn to anyone else. Lucas, to her, was incredibly handsome, charming, intelligent, gentle and kind. He was perfection. Even when he woke in the middle of the night, sweating and shouting out, gripped by the horror of his memories of Lushanka, eventually waking her up, it only helped her to love him more. The vulnerability he shared with her helped her move closer to him, bridging the gap which her insecurity had always created.

The closing of the front door suddenly echoed from down the hall. And Amy heard Lucas’ slow footsteps coming towards the kitchen. She felt her hands begin to shake and a painful lump rise in her throat. “Dinner’s almost ready,” she said.

“Dinner can wait,” Lucas instructed. It wasn’t often that Lucas was demanding, but when it came to digging into Amy’s insecurity and bad moods, it was the only way he could defend himself and fight for her.

Amy sighed and placed her hands on the edge of the sink and looked out into the murky evening. She could see fog beginning to descend on the world and the brightness of the streetlamps lighting up the rooftops, showing the gleam of an earlier shower.

Lucas stood beside Amy and curled his arm around her waist, then took her hand in his, kissing it. “The only thing I can say is that I love you, Aim.”

Amy felt everything crumble and she couldn’t help but break down again, becoming a sobbing mess in his arms.

Lucas held her tight, his right hand tangled in her hair and his lips kissing her forehead. “I love you more than anything.” That was all he could say, and he meant every single word, the emotion so overwhelming as he uttered them.

“I should support you, Lucas,” Amy said, sniffing as she pulled from the embrace to look up at him. “I’m so proud of everything you do, but I…”

“I know,” Lucas whispered. “Don’t you think I know? I don’t want to do this.” His eyes were locked on hers, tears swimming in them, making them look even brighter a blue.

“You’re being paid to sleep with someone. Perk of the job, I guess,” Amy said wryly.

“Don’t you dare say that,” Lucas hissed. His eyes became alight with frustration, his frown casting a shadow across his brow. “Why do you always have to turn to sarcasm and pettiness when you’re hurt?”

Amy pulled from Lucas’ grasp and stormed out of the room, casting him an expression of disgust mixed with hurt. Of course he was right; Amy knew it. Sarcasm and pettiness become her defence mechanism when hurt or cornered.

“What do you want me to say, Aim?” Lucas shouted. “Do you want me to leave my job, get down on my knees?”

“Just fuck off!” Amy hissed back. “Leave me alone.”

The room felt as if it were becoming so much smaller as Amy stood facing the wall, sobbing, with breath almost coming in gasps. More than anything, in that moment, she wanted to disappear.

“You don’t mean that, Aim. You never do,” Lucas said, placing his hand on her shoulder. “I know you enough by now. When you tell someone to leave you alone, it means ‘hold me tight’. You want people to get closer when you’re hurting, even though you push them away.”

Amy felt Lucas’ arms wrap around her middle, and she sighed, feeling that all too familiar wave of arousal spiral down her body and the butterflies swarm in her belly. She couldn’t fight off the way he made her feel. All of the attraction and love was far too strong to keep her away.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered. Lucas kissed her cheek, taking in the scent of her. It was strawberries mixed with the faintest hint of her perfume from that morning, Olympea.

Slowly, Amy turned around and looked up at Lucas, sniffing over her blocked nose. Her eyes were sore and red. “It always comes back to this feeling of me not being good enough.”

“And that’s what it is, just a feeling. There is no truth whatsoever in it. It’s a dark voice, nothing more. I chose you, Amy. Above everyone else, I choose you.”

Amy threw her arms around Lucas and they held each other tight, remaining silent. The only sound was the patter of rain against the window, which gradually got louder and heavier.

Heat spread through Amy as she felt his arms encase her, protecting her from the outside world and everything evil that was in it.

The two of them kissed, the heat mounting, until Amy’s hands slipped up Lucas’ chest and she began popping the buttons of his shirt. She pushed the fabric aside to see his chest exposed, which was tattooed with William Blake’s Ancient of Days.

“You could have anyone,” Amy began, “absolutely anyone in this world. And yet you choose me.”

“Why did you choose me?” Lucas whispered. “You don’t see your beauty, and your light. Any man you choose would be blessed beyond anything he could ever imagine, and you don’t see any of that.” His finger brushed a stray hair from her brow, and then the tips of his fingers trailed down her cheek and his thumb brushed her plump lips. “You made me feel again, and I owe you everything.”

They kissed again and began to remove each other’s clothing, slowly.

As Lucas stood before Amy in only his underwear, she traced the tattoos on his chest and stomach. “I thought about getting one, to match yours.”

“Don’t,” Lucas demanded, his tone quiet but stern and saddened. “All they serve is a reminder of the darkness in the world, and I never want to taint you with that. Your skin is perfect as it is, untouched and unblemished.”

“And I want to share everything with you. The good and the bad.”

Lucas lowered Amy to the bed, her arms locked around his neck. And they kissed again, hard and hungry for every fibre of each other.

Amy gasped as Lucas slipped inside her.

A groan fell off his lips as he felt a wave of that beautiful euphoria. This was where he belonged. It was the only place on this Earth he would ever be safe: inside her, one with her, vulnerable and bare. Gradually he moved, rocking his hips against her as his hand gripped her thigh.

Amy pulled him in closer, needing him against her, the closest in physical proximity that was possible. “I love you,” she whispered.

Lucas’ blue gaze locked on hers and he stopped his movement, remaining still. He smiled. It was a content, peaceful smile. The first he had smiled since he was a child. “This is where I belong. It’ll never be anywhere else. I promise.”

A while later and they both lay on their sides, facing each other. Lucas’ arm was draped idly over Amy’s hip. He was smiling at her again. Innocence, kindness, compassion and love had always shone through Amy’s face and been left on anything she touched, a golden light lingering behind from her fingertips.

He leaned forward and kissed the tip of her snub nose.

The happiness in Amy’s face drained and a serious expression rose. “I’m sorry about earlier. I know you need to do this.” A sadness began to wash over her green eyes. Then she forced a smile.

Lucas never answered, but in his mind, he knew what needed to be done. He moved over her and drew her into another embrace, followed by more love making.

***

The next morning, Lucas stood at Harry’s office door. His heart was racing in his chest, something that rarely happened when on the job.

With one last backwards glance to Amy, Lucas knocked on Harry’s door. She looked up from her desk and smiled at him from across the room, those beautiful eyes sparkling so brightly. Lucas knew that he had made the right decision.

For her or my country? Always for her.

“Come in!” Harry’s voice came.

Lucas took a deep breath and slipped inside the office, bracing the inevitable storm.

“Lucas? What can I do for you?” Harry asked, leaning back in his seat.

“I’m afraid I’m going to have to stand down from tomorrow’s deployment, Harry.”

***

Follow Forever tag list: @lathalea @linasofia @xxbyimm @middleearthpixie @knittastically

@glassgulls @lemond57 @missihart23 @luna-redamancy @meganlpie

@asgardianhobbit98 @mrsdurin @quiall321 @evenstaredits @catthefearless

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#richard armitage #lucas north #spooks #mi5 #lucas x amy #Lucas north x ofc #Lucas north x original character #Lucas north x original female character #one shot #fanfiction #Lucas north x oc

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yarnnerdally · 2 years ago

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So I found this amazing picrew and it needs so much love??? Like, I can't speak for the amount of POC representation, but I feel like it's much more inclusive than a lot I've seen. There's the option for a character to have a bindi, hijab, turbans, Star of David necklaces, cross necklaces, and the HAIR options! Also disability inclusivity with the option for adding hearing aids and a wheel chair?? I'm in love and I'm going to make so many of my OCs in this. OH AND THE BODIES! Fat bodies! Bodies that aren't just thin. And faces that have double chins. And clothes that fit them!

Djarn really needs so much credit for this maker. I'm gonna see if I can't find a place they post regularly and tag it/link it once I find it here!

Edit: apparently their twit is djarn_ but I haven't found a working link to their account. So. T.T

This is what I imagine more or less most of my self-inserts look like. :)

I'll tag people just to get this going, but no one is obligated to do it ofc!

@violettduchess @aquagirl1978 @scorchieart @jozhenji @venulus @mllorei @katriniac @strawberry-scum @maries-gallery @dear-mrs-otome @ikemen-writer @dark-frosted-heart @solomons-poison @kissmetwicekissmedeadly

#picrew #poc #disability #body positivity

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the-golden-comet · 11 months ago

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✨🏴‍☠️💛🌈Peter Hart 2,000 Hit Celebration: Fanart Gallery🌈💛🏴‍☠️✨

I am astonished at the amount of support that Peter Hart has been receiving. Not long ago, I reached my 1500 hit milestone. Now, we’re at 2,000 hits. Wow. I—honestly don’t know what else to say besides thank you so, SO much!! 💛✨

I wanted to share a bit of that love from the community, so I have compiled a collection of fanarts that community members have shared with me. I obtained permission from each artist to repost their fanart of Peter Hart.

I ALWAYS appreciate any sort of fanart, fanfiction, or other fanworks that the community offers. My DMs and asks are always open if you want to share your love and support as well!

Make sure to give these artists in the community some love 💛✨

Moodboards by the lovely @jev-urisk:

Fanart of Peter by @autism-purgatory :

Fanart of Benji by @wyked-ao3 :

Fanart of Peter by @jev-urisk

(Also featured are OCs Kazimier from Jev’s 7 Circles and Royston from @fortunatetragedy ’s Doom Metal Love Story):

Fanart of Peter from Anonymous Fan:

Fanart of Peter from @lavender-gloom :

Thank you all! If you want to read Peter Hart, it’s available for free on Archive of Our Own, or if you want to support me further, you can buy a digital copy on Amazon Kindle eBooks 💛🏴‍☠️✨

✨👇Tag list for writing snippets below. DM me if you’d like to be added👇✨

Tag List for writing tidbits (lmk if you want + or -)

@sunglasses-in-the-bentley , @glasshouses-and-stones , @alinacapellabooks , @gioiaalbanoart , @fortunatetragedy , @deanwax , @dyrewrites , @honeybewrites , @paeliae-occasionally , @lychhiker-writes , @thatuselesshuman , @katenewmanwrites , @zackprincebooks , @billybatsonmylove , @madi-konrad , @houseplantblank , @far-cry-from-finality , @fractured-shield , @avaseofpeonies , @topazadine , @thecoolerlucky , @theaistired , @willtheweaver , @rivenantiqnerd @somethingclevermahogony , @noxxytocin , @leahnardo-da-veggie , @addicted2coke-theothercoke , @the-letterbox-archives , @theink-stainedfolk , @ominous-feychild , @saturnine-saturneight , @words-after-midnight , @sableglass , @cowboybrunch , @moltenwrites , @pixies-love-envy , @davycoquette , @writeahurricane , @greenfinchwriter , @oliolioxenfreewrites , @lavender-gloom, @smellyrottentrees , @aintgonnatakethis , @thecomfywriter

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coopster3d · 1 year ago

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Meet The Reverend! [TF2 10th class OC]

Character Description:

The Reverend is a religious fanatic hailing from Southern Italy, where he was raised in a commune by a group of reclusive nuns. Where, according to him, he was taught the basic necessary skills for life, which include but are not limited to: Small sword combat, butchering, and Ecclesiastical Latin. It is unknown how exactly he was ordained as his denomination remains unclear. He often fails to mention that throughout his travels, he's made some adjustments to the standard Bible, adding his own footnotes, amendments, and even on occasion, pages which he believes are the true gospel, taken from a multitude of other religions, leading to a mishmash of ideals and beliefs full of unexplained rituals. Within the team The Reverend plays a heavily supportive role, serving initially as on-base staff in the form of a “Therapist” to the Mercs, which unfortunately or not, was not clearly conveyed leading to a sacrificial killing in the Intelligence Room. Now, he is a full time member of the Mercenary team!

Character references:

Character Loadout:

Primary: Thurible/Censer

A golden lantern, which, when held, creates an aura around The Reverend. Teammates in range, when damaged, contribute to a shield meter. When full, the user can activate a direction shield [stylized as a building mist which hardens into a thin shield the size of three heavys stood shoulder to shoulder] that protects against projectile damage and protects The Reverend from "Hell-fire" [Pyro's flames] while active. In order to use this effectively, The Reverend has to directly put himself in front of the front line, only properly using this shield when putting himself in a direct line of fire beforehand. When not activating his shield, The Reverend uses his lantern similar to that of a flail, creating a mid ranged weapon which is used to protect himself and others in a select radius around him.

Secondary: The “Mercy Kill” Dagger

Modeled after a sword used in early battles to put soldiers who were suffering grave injuries out of their misery in a quick and efficient way, The Reverend uses it similar to The Medic's Ubersaw. Instead of contributing to the lanterns meter, it instead contributes to its own meter, which, when full, can be used to activate The Reverend's "Dying Wish." [Inspired by Priests being seen as undertakers, guiding souls to heaven or otherwise while on their deathbed.] When used, The Reverend can target a specific teammate under half-health and for a short time grants the target guaranteed Crits, but does not heal the target, nor protect them from any damage type other than the one the target themselves is dealing. [I.e. Heavy receives a buff against bullets, Pyro-fire, and Demo- explosives]

Melee: Bible/Rosary

The Reverend is against the use of guns and prefers to get up close and personal with his damage dealing. [Used as an excuse to personally "send people off" to the next life while praying for their soul.] He either uses his Bible to bludgeon his victims or, on occasion, wraps his Rosary around his knuckles to boost his hand-to-hand damage.

Support Slot: Holy Water Mister

Modeled after a garden mister used for plants, the bottle is instead filled with Holy Water blessed by The Reverend himself. Mechanically used to rid teammates of ailments, such as Jarate, Pyro's Fire, and works to undisguise enemy Spies. [This also has an ammo limit similar to Pyro's flamethrower]

Extra Links!

Below is the link to his Toyhouse! This will have all updated information and a gallery with completed credits, details, ect.

Honestly, take your time getting to him, and if you need the document link, I'm more than happy to provide it, but I'm proud of the Toyhouse. All of the drop downs and buttons work, so feel free to look around when you get the time.

FOR TUMBLR: Check the #the Reverend tf2 tag on my profile

LINK TO THE PAGE: https://toyhou.se/26605018.the-reverend

#tf2 oc #tf2 tenth class #team fortress 2 #tf2 10th class #tf2 ocs #the reverend tf2 #team fortress 2 oc #tf2 oc art #tf2 #coopers art tag

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politeparadox · 5 months ago

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Making a post here to share my experiences with Ajax/Kuai/Nick/Vampiricdogs/AtaruTerrier

TL;DR: he is extremely volatile and in my opinion not a safe person to be around. I believe he is running a high control group. I urge others to be cautious around him.

Information will be added below when I get more energy.

• His mods are required to send them his full ID (under the guise of making sure they are 18 or older)

• He requires them to defend him in any controversy, otherwise they are his enemy

• he will blame his mods for not settling his paranoia

• he actively claims to utilize cops and lawyers against those he doesn't like

• if something happens online, he expects and requires mods to send screenshots of their messages, their dms, their Twitter dms and logged in Twitter accounts and each of those Twitter accounts' dms, their discord dms, their photo galleries, their deleted photos, etc. This can last several days. Repeatedly sending new and updated versions of all of these.

• If you refuse, you are dubbed a threat to him.

• as a threat to him, you are subject to more monitoring and screenshot and alibi requirements.

• you are not allowed to talk about the server outside of the server

• should you become his 'enemy', they will talk shit about you. Whatever tbh, this is common in my experience, but others are deeply upset by it.

• he revels in his BPD. He excuses his explosive temper, his volatile behavior, his harassment of others, his refusal to own up to what he has done with said BPD.

More to come

• he expects only comfort for his wrongdoing. He does not let anyone hold him accountable for his actions.

• He oversteps boundaries often and repeatedly

• he tags people in his NSFW and kink messages, even when they are fringe kinks. I don't care that he has them, I care about him tagging random people in them.

• he peer pressures people to roleplay his OCs even when told no repeatedly

• he harassed my partner for Over a month to get him to break up with me. He never did btw, he just told Ajax he did so Ajax would stop harassing him about it. Then, not even a day later, tried to start a FWB situation with my partner.

(He claims this was not manipulative. I think trying to get someone to break up with someone just to ask them out is at least very shitty if not manipulative and abusive)

• asked me to step down as a mod and leave his server because my boundaries included, but were not limited to: don't pressure me to roleplay, don't tag me in NSFW, and I expect us all to hold ourselves accountable

Add: Ajax, ik you're reading this because you can't resist seeking anything out about you. I did not tag you because I'm not fighting you. I am stating facts about my own experiences with you. You're blocked on my discord, and have been since you started harassing my partner to dump me. If you want to talk, message me here. If you become volatile, you will be blocked, and I will share screenshots. You do not scare me, you annoy me at best. You are not the powerful god you think you are man. Get therapy. You don't get to hurt others and get mad when they speak out about it.

#tw Ajax #ajax #nick #kuai #vampiricdogs #ataruterrier #lioden

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artistrafayel · 7 months ago

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Hiya! Welcome to my Love and Deepspace Rafayel character blog! Here you'll find asks, roleplays, ponderings, art, and more. Here are some thing you'll need to know about this blog:

*Please remember that behind every character blog is a person.*

NSFW content

MNDI. Mun and muse are 21+. There might be suggestive content at some point. It has a special tags that is listed in the next section. NSFW roleplay plots will usually be kept to DMs. Dirty ask prompts may be started on the timeline, though if they get to a certain point, I will ask to do it in private.

Tags

Here is a list of tags used on this blog for your viewing and interaction pleasure: Roleplay posts -> #lads rp sks/Prompts/Starters -> #ask Anon asks -> #fan of the arts Queue -> #tidepool 🌊 Moment posts -> #wet paint 🖌 Original art posts -> #mo studios original 🎨 NSFW/Suggestive -> #private gallery 🖼

How to interact

I accept asks, anons, and DMs. They are answered at the discretion of the mun. This blog is low activity and semi-selective. I just come on here when I get little bursts of inspiration. If I feel in any way like interacting with a situation or person is harmful to me, I will not engage anymore. Typically, I'll respond to one thread per blog at a time to spread my attention over multiple RP partners, but if any ask prompts or ideas are requested in the meantime, they will be added to the list to play out after the current thread is done. None LADS characters are allowed and up to Mun's discretion.

Concerning the muse

The muse is multiship. Rafayel is not romantically claimed by one person, every relationship has its own separate universe. He is in the LGBT+ community so never feel shy in that regard :)

Art

The art posted to this blog is either fully the mun's or modified by the mun, such as the artsy birbs that are a little different than in the game. Sometimes art exercise prompts are posted so keep an eye out!

This list is subject to morph over time.

Anons taken: 🥀, 🫧, 🌙, ๋࣭ ⭑⚝🛸๋࣭ ⭑⚝, 🏞️, 🦪,🪸,🪻

If you're looking for more entertainment, here are mine and my partner's other LADS blogs:

Aurora, my self insert OC: @borealiscuriosities

Zayne, ran by my partner: @cryocardiologist

My partner's self insert OC: @deepspacepunk

#love and deepspace #lads #rafayel #ask #ask blog #art #rp #roleplay

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magicshopaholic · 2 years ago

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Final Destination (Namjoon x OC)

Summary: Namjoon flies down to Amsterdam after the break-in.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

Genre: Angst

Word count: 7.6 K

Rating: 18+

Warnings: language, breaking and entering, vague descriptions of sex

A/N: Picks up right where Paradise Interrupted ends.

Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2, @margopinkerton, @faearchives, @whoisbts, @purpleseoul7, @sumzysworld, @kflixnet (if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk)

Listen to: "moonchild" by RM

namjoon masterlist | main masterlist

For a moment, no one speaks. One of the girls places the framed picture on the mantle with a soft thud and takes a couple of steps forward, her mouth open.

Kaya stays frozen, the shock making her blood feel like ice in her veins. The front door behind them is indeed unlocked, but they could have just as easily entered from the balcony as well.

“Who - who the hell are you?” she asks, wincing inwardly when she hears the fear in her own voice.

The same girl, her short hair a brilliant crimson, scoffs in satisfaction. “She’s American,” she states, clapping the other girl on the shoulder. “I told you she didn’t look European.”

“I thought she’d be taller.” The guy tilts his head doubtfully. “Wasn’t the girl in the video also a little…” He makes an exaggerated gesture with both his hands, making his palms face each other and moving them closer, mouthing thinner.

“Damn it, Lance,” swears the girl with the crimson hair, rolling her eyes. “You said you were sure.”

“Ron said she was!”

“Shut up,” the second girl, presumably Ron, hisses at both of them. She’s still watching Kaya, almost hungrily.

Kaya swallows, a gnawing irritation breaking through the paralysing fear. They’re talking about her as though she isn’t even here, right in front of her. She adjusts the pen in her hand when the girl in front, Ron, steps forward slowly. She stares at Kaya with mild wonder and then raises a hand to touch a lock of hair on her shoulder. Kaya flinches and stumbles back.

“Who in God’s name are you?” she repeats through gritted teeth. In front of her, Ron raises her eyebrows in surprise at this reaction and takes a step back.

“You don’t have to look so freaked out,” she says dryly, frowning a little and folding her arms across her chest. “We’re not criminals, we just… we just wanted to see…” Here, she trails off.

“Are you really Namjoon’s girlfriend?” The other girl, slightly taller, asks. Her voice trembles as she does, as though it’s taking every ounce of courage to ask this question.

The answer is instantaneous. “I - no. Of course not.”

The guy, Lance, scoffs while Ron raises her eyebrows again, sceptically this time. The redhead glares. “Really? Then what’s this?” she demands, brandishing the silver framed picture.

Kaya’s heart skips a beat. It’s an expensive frame; Namjoon had bought it for her from a gallery on its opening night the last time they’d been in New York together. “That’s - that’s an old picture. We hooked up once, three years ago. I - I didn’t even know who he was.” The half-lie tumbles out of her mouth instantly.

The girl hesitates, and Kaya can tell she was hoping for this. She stares at the picture and Kaya is overcome with the urge to snatch it back from her. “Then why is it on display in your living room?”

Shit. Kaya’s stomach twists. “Well…” She racks her brain for a suitable fib. “If you had a picture with him… wouldn’t you have it on display in your living room?” she counters, the response sounding ridiculous even to her.

To her immense surprise, this seems to make sense to the girl. She looks doubtfully at Ron, who seems to be the ringleader of this trio. Then she looks up at Kaya, clearly trying to remain calm.

“So, he’s… he’s still single?” she asks hopefully.

“Sure. Probably.”

She sighs hugely in relief, as though this information personally affects her. “I knew it,” she mutters, seemingly to herself, as she looks back down at the picture and her mouth twists into a scowl. “I wonder which stupid fandom started this rumour…”

“So you’re really not dating him?” Ron’s frown deepens. “Then how do you explain the video?”

Kaya shrugs. “What video?”

“The video,” she replies, rolling her eyes, “of him and you, on a balcony or something. You’re really telling us that wasn’t you? So the whole fandom got it wrong?”

The whole fandom. Kaya isn’t sure whether to laugh at that, at the assumption that everyone is secretly a die-hard BTS fan. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. I haven’t seen or spoken to Namjoon in three years. How - how did you even find me?” she asks, for the first time realising that someone she knows had to have revealed her identity.

At this, all three of the intruders exchange looks, clearly not wanting to reveal their source. “It’s on Twitter,” says the guy finally, taking a sip of his beer and apparently finding it empty. “Damn it.”

“I can throw that for you,” volunteers Kaya suddenly. “It’s just… the building is big on recycling, so…”

“Oh, of course.” He nods, a little surprised. “Thank you.”

He hands her the bottle and she takes it, using every bit of strength to not roll her eyes in disbelief at the fact that he willingly handed over his fingerprints. Behind him, the redhead is still staring at the picture and lightly stroking it.

“He looks so good in this,” she murmurs, biting her lip. She looks up at Kaya, and for a moment Kaya is afraid she’s going to ask to keep the picture. But a minute later she changes tacks. “Where was this?”

“In Seoul. Near, um, Hannam-dong.”

“Okay, hang on.” The guy, Lance, interrupts, looking rather annoyed. “So you’re not the girl.” Without waiting for a confirmation, he turns to the girls. “If she’s not it, can we leave? We have a paper due tomorrow.”

“You didn’t seem to care about that when you wanted to make it to happy hour.”

“Only because you wanted to come here!”

“Ron said -”

They continue bickering, as though having forgotten where they are. Kaya’s eyes flicker to her bag where she knows her phone is, but she can’t lunge towards it without this Ron person getting in her way. She remains the only one of the intruders to still remain quiet, simply looking around the living room suspiciously with her arms folded across her chest.

“Look, I - I’ve answered all your questions,” ventures Kaya, making all of them abruptly stop their conversations and look at her. “I don’t know who you are -” Lance, Ron, and the other one “- and I think it’s clear that I’m not who you think I am.”

“You’re not Kayla?” Ron finally asks. For the first time, even she starts to seem doubtful.

“No,” she answers honestly. “I’m not. Now I’m going to have to ask you to leave before -”

“Wait, hang on.” Ron holds up a hand and looks a little disgruntled. “We need to be sure of everything before we leave,” she states, sounding unhinged. “Someone is spreading rumours in the fandom and if the person in the photos is really not you, then we need to find out who -”

“Jesus Christ, Ron, they’re obviously fake!” The redhead says loudly, placing the photo frame carelessly back on the shelf. “He’s too busy to date - he’s said that a thousand times and - look!” She strides across the room and reaches the dining table to pick up a cardboard box of a ready-to-eat dish. “Shrimp tacos! We know he hates seafood!”

This time, Kaya can’t resist frowning a little incredulously, but thankfully no one else notices.

“Now can we just leave? Why do you want him to be dating so badly?” The redhead sounds on the verge of tears. Meanwhile, Lance seems to have had enough and is already opening the front door.

“You need to calm down,” says Ron, pointing a finger at her friend. “Lance, shut the door.”

“Bite me, Ron.”

“I said -”

This building, being a student residence, is already small enough that sounds travel. When the door opens and none of the intruders seem to have the sense to lower their voices, Kaya feels her heart race with hope that someone, someone, will realise that something is wrong. While Ron turns around to talk to her friends, Kaya inches towards her bag next to the kitchen.

“I’m leaving!” Lance is halfway out the door when they all hear footsteps outside. All three of the strangers freeze.

“Is someone there?” It’s her neighbour, Mark. Kaya almost stops breathing but realises she has to respond because the next thing he’s likely to say is her name, something she’s sure these people don’t know.

She swallows, her eyes darting towards all three of them. Lance shakes his head with wide eyes, warning her not to make any sound.

“Mark, it’s me! Call the cops!”

“What did you do?” hisses Ron, but the damage is done. There is more than one set of footsteps outside and all three of the intruders immediately run.

“Let’s go! Now! Damn it, Sylvia - leave the picture!” There’s a crash and the sound of glass shattering as Kaya retrieves her phone with shaking fingers and immediately dials 112 for the police as she follows them.

Outside, she sees Mark and his girlfriend, both looking terribly confused at the sight of three strangers running out into the hallway.

“They broke into my apartment!” she exclaims and Mark’s eyes widen for a moment before he runs down the stairs after them.

“Oh, my God, they did what?” His girlfriend, Maya, jogs past her to peer into her apartment before coming back to her. “Are you okay?” she asks, holding her shoulders and frowning in concern.

But words fail Kaya. She shakes her head wordlessly and when the call to the police doesn’t go through, she hangs up and leans against the wall, feeling like she hasn’t breathed in ages. When Maya kneels in front of her and doesn’t push for any more information, only gently convinces her that she shouldn’t stay in her apartment tonight since it’s compromised, Kaya simply nods.

Maya helps her get some of her stuff for the night, stopping only to inform her that the building security seems to have gotten hold of the intruders. Kaya feels like she’s on autopilot, even once the cops show up and she identifies all three of them with ease. They’re taken to the station for questioning while Mark gets his guest bedroom ready and Kaya packs for an overnight stay.

Just before she’s about to leave her apartment, she notices something on the floor by her TV shelf: the picture frame, its glass shattered and a scratch on the corner of the delicate silver frame. The picture inside it stays intact, their smiles from years ago frozen in print. It hurts to see it broken, but Kaya doesn’t know what to do about it right now so she simply takes it with her to Mark’s.

“Let me know if you need anything at all,” says Maya, after showing her to her room.

“You’ve done more than enough, really.” Kaya sets her bag down and looks around. “It’s perfect.” She forces a smile which fades when the door closes and leaves her in silence once more.

Kaya sits on the edge of the bed, the entire evening seeming absurd in hindsight. She waits for it to sink in, closing her eyes and recalling the details, the fear, the entitlement of strangers questioning her relationship.

And then, the panic attack hits.

—

When Kaya wakes the next morning, for a moment she can’t remember where she is. She sits up with a jerk, her mind still swimming with disturbing images of broken glass and hands wrapped around her neck, choking her.

It takes a few seconds but she spots her bag and the silver picture frame next to her on the bed and sighs, burying her head in her hands and trying to get rid of the throbbing.

It had taken hours for her to fall asleep last night. She’d stayed up with the lights on, her eyes wide open as she stared at the ceiling and replayed every moment since she’d set foot in her apartment. As silly and idiotic as those intruders had been, obsessed with a celebrity who didn’t even know them, they still had managed to break in.

Or walk in, as the case may be. Part of her still can’t believe Namjoon had been right, so right about everything. In the midst of all the danger and anxiety, she can’t help but feel irritated at being wrong, enough that she’d hesitated about calling Namjoon at all.

Once she picked up her phone, though, the thought seemed crazy. Suddenly desperate to talk to him, to hear his voice and to know that he was there, she’d called him with shaking hands. He’d cut the call at first, meaning he was busy. The picture of him in the suit with styled hair seemed like days ago; she’d texted him, however, asking him to please, please call her back and hoping he’d know it was important.

He’d called back in under a minute. Kaya had willed herself to sound as normal as possible so as to not worry him but the moment she’d heard his voice, all resolve had broken down. She’d narrated everything to him like word vomit, noting with unease how he heard her out in stone cold silence. He’d only spoken after she was done, and the anger beneath the surface made her hair stand on end.

Are you hurt? Did anyone touch you?

Kaya thought of the way the leader had looked at her - Ron, who had fingered a lock of her hair with impunity, and shuddered.

No. I’m fine.

She wished more than anything that they weren’t having this conversation over the phone, that for this night at least, they weren’t in a relationship where they spent more nights apart than together.

There were some voices in the background then, at which point Namjoon abruptly told her he’d call her back and to stay put at Mark’s.

I love you. The words were heavy with emotion but a moment later he’d hung up, and Kaya had clutched her phone in her hand, trying to remind herself that she wasn’t alone in this.

She’d drifted in and out of sleep all night, alternating between distracting herself with work and scouring the Internet to see if those people were telling the truth, if her identity and address were really public. She couldn’t find anything, though; she tried scrolling through Twitter but after finding nothing apart from snippets of baseless rumours, she didn’t even understand what she was looking for.

It’s well after sunrise now. As much as she’d like to stay inside this room for the foreseeable future, she knows she needs to head back.

“Are you sure?” Mark raises his eyebrows. “You can stay here if you don’t feel ready.”

“No, I - I can’t impose any longer,” she says, shaking her head at Maya’s admonishing hand gesture. “But thank you, though.”

“Okay, if you’re sure.” Mark still sounds doubtful but doesn’t press. Maya convinces her to have a piece of toast that tastes like cardboard, and Kaya obliges out of sheer gratitude. “I’ll send you the locksmith’s number,” he promises as she leaves.

“Call if you need anything at all!” Maya reminds her as she leaves. She hasn’t met Maya except for in passing over the last year, but there’s something about the instant way in which she’d understood Kaya’s fear that makes Kaya trust her implicitly.

Kaya enters her apartment hesitantly. It looks the way it always does, but it feels like a crime scene. She imagines going to campus today and returning in the evening, looking forward to her inviting sofa and a warm bath, but instead feeling this uncomfortable in her own home.

It takes her a minute, but she quickly snaps into action. She cannot allow her apartment to be this tainted; she drops her bag and the photo frame in her room, texts her thesis advisor that she’s taking a sick day, and gets to work.

By approximately eleven am, the locks have been changed, every inch of the apartment has been cleaned and sanitised, a camera for her hallway has been purchased on Amazon, along with an alarm system for her balcony.

It feels a little better, she has to admit. The empty spot on her TV shelf catches her eye, though, and her heart twitches painfully at the reminder of the broken frame. She’s sitting on Namjoon’s lap in the picture, her arm around his shoulders and his around her waist, the other one resting on her knee. They’re in sweaters during the onset of fall, having reached a milestone in their relationship after Namjoon had officially met her mother.

She has to get the picture fixed. It’s a loose end, a reminder of this hideous night, but before she can start Googling the closest place to get it repaired, she hears a loud sound.

Kaya jumps and freezes, her heart thumping painfully in her chest. It’s the new lock; someone is out there, jiggling a key or a pin or something to try and break in again. Her eyes dart around and she dives for the hockey stick the previous tenant had left here, one she’d just strategically placed by her room for future situations, and she holds it up in preparation.

No, please, no, not again. Would this be the rest of her life? Being on edge constantly and waiting for someone else to break into her apartment?

The lock jiggles for a moment longer, followed by a knock. “Kaya?” A voice travels through the wood, making her heart skip a disbelieving beat. “It’s me!”

Dropping the hockey stick to her side, Kaya races through the living room and unlocks the door, hardly daring to believe it. He’s here, in the flesh, dressed in a black T-shirt and tan cargos, looking both confused and relieved when she opens the door for him.

“My key isn’t working and I thought something was wrong…” Namjoon steps inside and closes the door behind him, frowning at the hockey stick.

She remembers then that she’s still holding it and drops it on the floor, all her remaining grit and forced calm disappearing at the sight of him. She tries to speak, but she’s suddenly afraid that if she opens her mouth, she might start to cry.

Namjoon seems to realise this, for his frown deepens and he drops his duffel bag on the floor before taking a step closer to her.

“Come here,” he says softly, holding out his arms and wrapping them around her when she reaches up to hug him.

“I got the locks changed,” she mumbles into his shoulder, feeling him nod against her head. He’s here, he’s really here…

His arms tighten around her like he’s only just convinced she’s real. “Good girl.”

“I can’t believe you’re here,” she murmurs, watery and clinging to him as tightly as she can. He smells of soap and aeroplane and she can tell he picked out the first article of clothing he could get his hands on. Clutching the T-shirt fabric in her fist, she breathes it in.

“Of course I’m here.” He’s quiet but his voice shakes, his face buried in her hair. “When you called, I couldn’t believe - I mean, I didn’t…” He trails off and shakes his head, exhaling before pulling away.

“Wait, don’t you have a concert tomorrow night?” she asks, suddenly remembering that the rest of the world hasn’t come to a standstill just because she has.

“Yeah, I - I need to fly out tomorrow.” Namjoon runs a hand through his dishevelled hair, looking unbelievably tired. “I’m sorry I can’t stay longer but I had to come, I just couldn’t -“

Kaya silences him with a kiss, so desperate to make him stay, knowing that no words on earth will be enough to communicate to him the world of difference that his presence makes. “I still can’t believe you’re here,” she repeats, sniffing and pressing her forehead to his.

Namjoon nods, his hands big and warm on her arms. “Are you okay? Are you - are you hurt?” He steps back and looks at her up and down, as though expecting to see something wrong.

“I’m fine,” she assures him, feeling more vulnerable yet safe since last night. “I got lucky, I think - I had the three biggest idiots in the city break in. They used real names, didn’t cover their faces, carried Leiden University backpacks and left their fingerprints on stuff and -“ She scoffs and gives him a look. “They Ubered over here.”

Namjoon says nothing, but it’s clear he doesn’t consider any part of this incident lucky. He licks his lips and it looks like he wants to say something, but then he shakes his head and takes another step closer to her. “I love you,” he says, pulling her into his arms again - and Kaya knows that this hug is for him, for his fear and worry. “I love you, I love you…”

He murmurs the words over and over again until his voice breaks but they don’t let go of each other for a few more minutes, not until her back starts cramping with his weight.

“Tell me everything,” he says seriously, taking a seat on the sofa, legs spread out and feet firmly on the ground. When she hesitates momentarily, he takes her hand and gently pulls her to him, directing her to sit beside him. It’s easier than last night; this time the initial shock has worn off and moreover, he’s here and she can touch him and see his reaction and squeeze his hand whenever he starts to get too antsy.

“So… wait.” Namjoon shakes his head and frowns. “They didn’t threaten you. Or actually want to hurt you?”

“No,” she confirms, resting her elbow on the top of the sofa. “They were… talking. They weren’t even sure if we were together - I don’t think anybody is,” she adds, feeling a strange sense of relief at saying the words out loud. It was true; every single thing she saw on Twitter last night had conflicting information, all the way down to her location and her name. “The moment I told them it wasn’t true - that we weren’t together and I had no idea where you were or what you were doing, they lost all interest.”

He bites his lip. “You really said we weren’t together?” Through the confusion and the worry, she can detect a hint of curiosity.

“Yeah.” She links her fingers with his on his lap. “It felt weird but it was the only thing I could think of to get rid of them. Your fans really want you to be single,” she can’t resist adding wryly, remembering how the redhead - Sylvia, she recalls suddenly - had gazed at their picture in the frame.

“I’m sorry,” he murmurs, rubbing his eyes. “They’re the bad seeds. I hate them,” he adds with feeling. He looks away, as though he can’t meet her eyes, and the guilt is clear in his body language.

Kaya is quiet for a moment, observing his troubled expression, and gently runs her fingers through his blond bangs. She loves the curtain bangs on him. “How did you manage to ask for an off schedule trip so fast?”

“I didn’t ask.” He shrugs. “I would’ve loved to see them try and stop me leaving for this. We’re still people, you know?” he says, squeezing her hand. “We have emergencies.”

She cracks a hollow smile. “It could have been worse. Oh, and -” She exhales. “They broke the frame.”

He frowns. “What frame?”

“The silver Vera Wang one that we got in New York.” She lowers her eyes apologetically. “It was on the shelf by the TV and they - one of them picked it up and when they ran out, it fell -” Unexpectedly, her eyes sting at the image of the broken artefact. “I’m sorry.”

Namjoon sighs and pulls her closer to him, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and tucking her head under his chin. “You really had me worried there for a moment,” he mutters, kissing the top of her head.

“It was a beautiful frame,” she sniffles.

But he shakes his head. “I love you,” he murmurs simply.

He repeats the words throughout the day. Their conversations become sparse, with both of them tired and sleep-deprived, yet staying as physically close as they can. Kaya can’t blame him; on some level, she knows how he feels. Being far away and out of control is nerve-wracking, even in theory, but after something like this, she doesn’t want to downplay his concern.

She joins him in the shower when he visibly hesitates leaving her in the living room. There’s no sex; they simply stay together, quiet and tactile under the running water where he murmurs I love you into her wet hair, saying nothing else. It’s the same while they order lunch and when she shows him the broken frame. He touches the scratched edge and tilts his head at her, as if to let her know this is the least of his worries, before kissing her forehead. I love you.

For the first time in their relationship, she’s on the verge of asking him to stay a little longer, concert be damned. She knows she won’t, but she lets herself imagine that she does, that he might stay back with her so that her studio apartment won’t feel so empty and inviting to strangers looking to break in. By the evening, Kaya has managed to hold her tongue and just make the best of whatever time she has with him, full of gratitude that he took a seven hour flight from New York at a moment’s notice just for her.

She wishes she could tell him that, but he seems far away in his thoughts. He’s quiet for longer periods of time while his hold on her only becomes more pronounced. Kaya isn’t sure how much of it is guilt and how much of it is anxiety, but she lets him process it at his own pace, content for now to simply let him hold her and to be held.

It’s late in the evening when Kaya gets woken by a shrill sound. Her eyes snap open and she jerks up from where her head was on Namjoon’s chest, sighing when he quickly silences his phone.

“Sorry, sorry - go back to sleep…”

“No…” She checks her own phone and groans. “Damn it, I’ve been asleep for an hour?”

“It’s okay,” he murmurs, tugging her back to her original position. “You must be tired. I dozed off, too.”

“Yeah, but you’re leaving soon. I don’t want to -” She breaks off and brushes her hair off her face, already recognising the signs of missing him for another handful of weeks.

Namjoon simply purses his lips, but doesn’t say anything more. He looks sad, too; she can’t tell if he wants to talk about it, but she supposes this is just one of those things that mean more when they aren’t uttered out loud.

She squeezes his shoulder before getting off his lap. “I’ll go see what I have for dinner,” she says, gesturing to the kitchen. “Or we may have to order in again.”

“Kaya.”

She turns to see him swing his legs off the couch and sit up straight, his elbows resting on his knees. “Yeah?”

“We need to talk.” He bites his lip. “About last night. About… what really happened. The root cause of it.”

Kaya folds her arms across her chest, knowing this would come up eventually. In fact, she can’t help but appreciate that he hasn’t brought it up even once yet.

“Yeah, I know,” she sighs and swallows. “The front door. You were right, Namjoon. About everything. In fact -” She shrugs hugely, as though bracing herself for it. “I officially give you permission to say ‘I told you so’.”

To her surprise, Namjoon shakes his head. “Come on, I don’t want to say that. That’s not the root cause I’m talking about.” He pauses. “They broke into your house.”

Kaya frowns. “You - you want me to move?” All of a sudden, her apartment feels like the safest place in the world. “I don’t - I don’t think that’s necessary. It’s not like my address is public - plus, this is campus housing. It’s subsidised. I don’t even know if I can afford anything that’s -”

“Kaya, honey -” Namjoon interrupts her, his eyes pleading. “That’s… that’s not the root cause either. You know it’s not.”

She’s stumped now. There’s a nagging voice at the back of her mind that tells her the answer is obvious, that it’s right there, but there’s nothing logical that presents itself to her, not even when he sighs and hangs his head. She’s never seen him this upset; it triggers an automatic surge of concern in her that makes her want to reach for him.

Something stops her, though. Namjoon isn’t speaking anymore, as if he physically can’t voice the words. His eyes are beseeching her to understand and it’s not until she notices how his eyes are filling up that it hits her chest like a cricket ball.

“No,” she mutters, realising only a moment later that she’s spoken out loud. “No. You can’t possibly - no.” Kaya shakes her head and takes a step back, refusing to even entertain this train of thought. “Just… no. I’m going to see what’s for dinner and then we can talk about whatever insane idea you think you’re -”

“Kaya -”

“No!” she interrupts, her lower lip already trembling because he can’t, he can’t be serious. “What is wrong with you? How can you even think of suggesting this? How could you -” But she breaks off because he isn’t arguing back. Why isn’t he arguing back? He doesn’t say a word, simply looking up at her with so much pain, so much sadness and guilt at her reaction that it tears at her insides because he’s serious.

“I love you,” he says quietly, and it sounds like the end.

—

Summer in Amsterdam is sunny, always. Tulips are in full bloom, tourists are taking pictures everywhere, and it’s colourful shorts and bicycles and gelato. The sun is up until late, late in the evening and the weather is dry and warm with just the slightest chill in the night.

Today, in an usual turn of events, it’s raining. It’s April in Amsterdam and it’s raining, hard enough that the clouds have taken over the erstwhile blue sky and the city is a colourless, soulless grey.

Kaya stares at Namjoon, using everything she has in her to keep her composure. “What,” she begins, her voice low and shaking, “the hell are you talking about?”

Namjoon sighs, looking resigned. “I can’t do this,” he whispers. “I can’t be the reason something like this happens to you. What if you’d gotten hurt? I would never be able to forgive myself.”

“So this is about you.”

He doesn’t take the bait. “This is about you. And you’re not safe - and that’s because of me.”

“It is not because of you. It’s because of whoever betrayed my confidence and revealed my identity - how can you take that upon yourself?” she demands.

“Because none of this would’ve happened if you were dating a normal person!” he blurts loudly, and Kaya doesn’t even want to ask how long he’s been thinking this. “Hiding and lying and - and - and now this! Kaya, they broke into your house!” he repeats. “Anything could have happened. I cannot be the reason you get hurt, baby - I just can’t.”

“You are not!” she cries, so scared now because he isn’t backing down. “None of this was your fault - and how in the world is this the answer?”

“You said it yourself,” he points out, clearly ready for this question. “They backed off the moment you told them I was single. They just need confirmation - I can put out a statement and this whole thing can just - just go away!”

“So lie!” she exclaims incredulously. “Just lie! We don’t have to actually break up for that to happen.”

Namjoon gives her a look. “They found out where you live. You think they won’t find out if we’re lying?”

Kaya blinks back tears. “They may not. Shouldn’t we at least try? Instead of relying on a statement that gets put out in a week or - or whenever your PR team decides is the best time for your tour?”

But he shakes his head. “That won’t be a problem. I spoke to them at the airport and they said if I give a go-ahead, they can have it released in twelve hours or maybe even lesser if I tell them in advance -”

“Wait, wait, wait. Hang on.” She holds up a hand, feeling a pit of anger starting to pool in her stomach. “You’ve already spoken to your team?”

Namjoon pauses. “I -” He looks taken off guard. “I mean… I had to ask before I -”

“Oh, my God,” she whispers, taking a step back, away from him. “You came here to break up with me?”

“No! No - God, Kaya, I came here because -”

“I thought you came here for me,” she interrupts, a horrible, terrible realisation washing over her. “I thought you came here because you were worried - but you just came here to break up with me?”

“Of course I came here for you,” he states firmly, walking over to her now. “You have no idea what kind of things went through my mind when you called me last night. Kaya, I will drop everything for you in a second - you know that. But that includes us, too,” he says after a moment, softer this time. “If it’s to keep you safe.”

“You are so full of it,” she mutters, avoiding his hand reaching for her and stepping back again. “That’s such bullshit. Tell me - how many people knew about our break-up before I did? If you’ve been planning this since before you even got here?”

“It’s not like that. This wasn’t an easy decision for me either, but I don’t know what else to do!”

But Kaya shakes her head. Her initial shock and desperation has been replaced with anger - pure and simple anger at him, for spending all day with her when he knew this entire time that this was what he was intending to do.

“Fine.” She shrugs, clenching her jaw to stop herself from crying. “Do what you have to. But if you’re expecting me to - to beg you to stay, that is not happening.”

“I don’t want you to beg -” Namjoon looks up at the ceiling, blinking rapidly and swallowing before meeting her eyes again. “I just want you to understand why I’m doing this because it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, baby,” he implores, reaching for her face. “I don’t know how else to fix this except to leave and let you live your life -”

“Then, go.” She knocks his hands away and pushes him back by the shoulders. He barely moves but his expression is stung. She knows he’s holding back tears, too, but she’s so angry and so hurt and she hates him so she doesn’t bother caring about his pain right now.

“Kaya -”

“What are you waiting for? Pack your shit and leave, now!” She pushes him back again, sniffing. When he doesn’t move, she pushes him back again, harder. “Go!” she cries, her voice trembling.

Namjoon looks as though he’s about to say something but evidently decides against it. His eyes fall to the floor and he rubs at his eyes before turning around and going back into her room where he’d dragged his duffel bag earlier in the day. He shuts the door behind him, although whether it’s to give himself privacy or her, she isn’t sure.

The sound of the door closing reverberates within her, though, and she stares after him, wanting to hold on to the anger and rage at how he’s giving up on them but it doesn’t last. She sits down on the sofa in a daze, absently bringing onto her lap the cushion on which Namjoon had been resting his head just a little while ago.

Without thinking, she brings it to her face and she’s met instantly with his scent, of his shampoo and his cologne and him. With the silence in the living room and the sound of the rain outside, it suddenly hits her like a punch in the stomach that this will be the last time her apartment will ever smell of him.

The first sob comes out of nowhere but once it’s out, she’s crying. She’s careful not to be loud but burying her face in her hands, she feels her shoulders shake and her heart ache like it hasn’t in her life. It feels unreal that he would even suggest this, that he would go so far as to make arrangements - all weighed against the alternative of just staying. It hadn’t occurred to her that she was ever afraid of this, but it feels like her worst fear come true, that finally, finally, Namjoon has made his choice and she’s more stress than she’s worth.

Part of her knows it isn’t true; the image of his face when he’d silently begged her to understand what he was asking without having to say it is burned into her mind. But there’s no sympathy in her for him, not when he’s willing to give up everything including their shared future over this.

At some point, the bedroom door opens again and Kaya can hear footsteps come towards her. She looks away, resolutely staring in the opposite direction, this time not even bothering to hide her puffy face and wet eyes from him when Namjoon kneels down next to her.

“Listen,” he begins, then halts. His tone has a forced calm quality to it, as though he’s had to talk himself into keeping his composure. She isn’t fooled; he was inside her room for a long time for someone who’s barely unpacked in the half a day that he’s been here. He places one hand on her knee and the other on her back and tries again.

“Kaya, sweetheart,” he ventures, sniffing slightly and deliberately keeping his eyes on her. “Listen, you know - you know why I have to do this, right? You know I love you, you know this is not about… that, but I just -“

Kaya bites her lip, hard enough to draw blood but to keep from breaking down in front of him. She continues to look away, closing her eyes at his touch in spite of herself, feeling the tears roll down her face and doing nothing to stop them.

“I love you. Tell me you know that.” He squeezes her knee and reaches for her face again, trying to meet her eyes. “Tell me you know that, baby, because I can’t do this without you understanding why I have to.”

She can barely hear him. She thinks of the last time they’d broken up and all the things he’d promised her when they’d gotten back together, and feels her resolve break. “Oh, my God,” she whispers, dropping her face in her hands again. It’s over, she thinks. It’s all over.

“No - don’t - don’t cry - Kaya, I can’t do this without you,” he murmurs, his voice breaking. “I’m sorry, I love you, I love you so much…”

“I never should’ve told you,” she whispers, shaking her head. If she’d just kept her mouth shut instead of running to him the moment something went wrong…

“No,” he says immediately. “No, come on, that’s not the answer…” He exhales shakily, pressing his forehead to her temple. His hair brushes her cheek and the moment his lips touch her face, Kaya pushes him away and struggles out of his arms. Ignoring his pleas, she goes in the only direction available to her and storms out the front door, slamming it behind her.

Eyes blurred with tears, Kaya runs down the stairs and towards the gate when she looks ahead and halts abruptly. It’s pouring. The rain is a wall of grey before her. She’s barefoot, she doesn’t have her phone and it’s night time.

Despite everything, she thinks of how desperately worried Namjoon will be if she disappears right now and her stomach twists painfully. He can’t leave. He cannot; she can’t let him. There’s never going to be another one of him - another one of them.

Before she knows it, Kaya is running back up the stairs. For a moment outside her front door, she considers the possibility that it might not work, that Namjoon might not stay. Three years of a relationship, braving cross-country distances and timezones and the stress brought about their jobs - all to come to an end in one night.

She opens the door and steps inside to see Namjoon exactly where she’d left him, but standing up now. She just about registers the look of relief on his face before looking away again; it’s so hard to meet his eyes.

He comes to her, taking her wrists and trying, again, to make her look at him, but she resists and he keeps trying and she steps closer to him and tilts her head up and kisses him because despite it all, despite all the anger and the hurt and betrayal she loves him so, so much and she doesn’t know how else to tell him apart from pulling him closer by his T-shirt that this is it, this is everything so please, please, to just stay because there’s nowhere else for them to go but to each other.

It’s working, she thinks when he pulls her close, so close that it feels like he might never let her go. He kisses her so deeply and so desperately, his hands moving down every bit of her body that they can, from her face, to her arms, to her back and to her hair; he needs her just as much, and she can see it - he can see it. He has to know - and it’s seeming like he does.

Kaya doesn’t let up, not for a single second, not when they stumble into her bedroom or when their clothes come off in a chaotic mess. Every time he kisses her, every inch of skin he presses his lips to is with a fervour, with a hunger that gives her hope that he gets it now. He kisses every inch of her, not leaving a single bit untouched, silent but passionate. I’m not going to beg. She isn’t and besides, there are no words left to say. This is the only way she can think of asking him to stay.

But something starts feeling wrong, somewhere down the line when they’re naked and pressed against each other and his lips are on hers and he pulls away but says nothing, doesn’t whisper a single word while being inside her that she realises with a sinking heart that makes her want to cry at the ceiling that it isn’t working, that the reason he’s savouring her isn’t because he’s staying but because he’s not staying - because he thinks it’s the last time they’ll ever be together.

They lie in the darkness, too tired, too afraid to move. Namjoon’s arms are around her and his nose is pressed up against her hair. Kaya can’t see his face; she’s not sure she wants to. She suspects he may have finally broken down and if she happens to witness that, she has no faith in her own ability to stay strong.

But it’s happened anyway. It’s too late and there’s nothing else left at her disposal.

“Don’t go,” she whispers, so quiet that she’s surprised when he stiffens against her. “Please, Namjoon. Don’t do this, please,” she repeats, not caring anymore if she cries in front of him. “I love you… I love you, so please, please…”

Namjoon pulls her close, wrapping his arms around her so she’s surrounded by his skin, his scent, his love and guilt for the last time. “I love you, too,” he murmurs, and she can hear it now, clearly. He’s crying and she has no idea how to comfort him. “I love you, too much. And I can’t… I can’t…”

Kaya wraps her hands around his neck and stays there, determined to hold him because if she doesn’t let him go, how will he ever leave? The weak logic keeps her going, along with his lips against her hair and the feel of his touch against her body.

But it’s late and despite her best efforts, the stress of the day and all the lack of sleep catches up and her eyes close of their own accord and she falls asleep against him.

When Kaya wakes up the next morning, the bed is cold and she’s alone.

Her eyes flutter open and a moment later her heart stops and she sits up with a jerk. It’s as though her mind knows exactly what to look for, even if she’s not consciously searching for it. His duffel bag is gone and so are his shoes. There’s a note on her bedside table and she can recognise his English scrawl even from here.

No. It can’t be. But it is, and deep down in her heart she knows what he’s done and why he’s done it the way he has. Pulling the sheets up to her chest, suddenly feeling terribly exposed in her nakedness, Kaya reaches for her phone, still unsure what she’s looking for until she sees the notification for the Google alert for his name and feels her heart break all over again.

Amidst dating rumours, BTS RM confirms he’s single.

---

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#namjoon x oc #namjoon fanfic #rm fanfic #thebtswritersclub #bangtanwhq #micdropnet #k-vanity #houseofddaeng #wkcnet #hyunglinenetwork #namjoon angst #bts rm fanfic

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