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papergirllife · 3 years

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First Love

Lucas Wong / Yukhei

"They say first love is a special experience that one would always hold a special place in your heart. Wong Yukhei was your first love in high school, but along the way, you had to say goodbye to him in order for him to achieve his dream of becoming a star in Korea. Yet fate and destiny plays its role in paving the two of you an intersection once more, will the two of you and up together at the very end?"

Warnings : smut, unprotected sex, mild angst, a child (pregnancy not described), tooth rotting fluff (all in that order, kinda)

A/N : this is one of my most heavily devoted works I've ever written, so please, of you're comfortable, drop a feedback to tell me if you guys like this writing style, thank you!

Lucas Wong of NCT and most importantly his own fixed unit, Wayv, the man who garners attention and love wherever he goes, that dazzling smile is sure to be captured by numerous cameras of awaiting fans.

But to you, Lucas was never Lucas, to you he was Yukhei, and more significantly, your ex from high school. Yukhei was your first love, you remember when the two of you had first met in Year 9, Yukhei was known for being a class clown and more of a klutz, girls would always have a soft spot for him even if they didn't like him in that way.

Yukhei was your desk mate for Year 10, the thing got you on your nerves about him was that he never took group assignments seriously, and was never at school on time, his uniform was wrinkly from rushing out of his house to catch the bus and always had a stationary missing, which means he had to borrow yours.

You never hated him, hate is a strong word, things were very neutral with him, most times, he unintentionally annoys you, but he'd always make up to you by bringing you a small bottle of apple juice the next day. The only time the two of you really fought was when he had not spoken up when his friends snatched your book away from yours to copy you off, brushing it off as a small matter.

You were quite an immature person back then, and no one can blame you, you were just a teenager, and being said that, you had refused to lend Yukhei a ruler when the math teacher did a pop quiz, so he had to use the dust pan as no one, other than you that is, brings an extra ruler.

It's not your fault, you thought back then, he shouldn't have depended on you to bring his share of stationaries. The next day, you walked into class to see his group of friends waiting at your desk to apologize to you, and as for Yukhei, he had yet again brought you a bottle of apple juice, with the addition of your favourite bar of Cadbury.

It was only in Year 11 when Yukhei had confessed to you, saying that all those annoying things he did to you were just to catch your attention, of all the girls he could've liked, he chose the one who was the most unattainable, go figure.

The next year, when the two of you were looking to apply to the same college, Yukhei broke the news to you that he'd be packing his bags for Korea, that the audition he had joined just for fun accepted him as a trainee in a large entertainment company in Korea that everyone in Hong Kong knows, SM.

At first you didn't approve of his decision, that his education was important as well, that he had a life here, with you. But Yukhei had given very valid reasons to you, that he wouldn't have passed the college entrance exams if it weren't for your tuitions until late at night in the public library, that he didn't really have an interest in studying. His most valid reason was that he didn't want to take a toll on you when you’re in college, he can't have you sacrifice your sleep and attention for him just to have him attain passing grades.

So you let him go, saying your last farewell to him at the airport as his girlfriend and ex girlfriend.

That was the last time you saw him, choosing to not stay in contact with him as you poured your soul into university life, studying like your life depends on it, you had a few boyfriends here and there, nothing serious, nothing that made you felt like your first love. Maybe you had trouble moving on, or maybe it was just stress, you thought back then, shrugging the thought off casually before diverting your attention else where, this cycle carried on until you came out to work.

Fast forwarding to March of 2019, you had unintentionally came across of a news online that Yukhei had finally been placed in his own fixed unit that would be promoting and performing in Chinese, which isn’t surprising, even the Thai member, Ten, was of Chinese heritage. What made your eyes widen was the fact that they were coming to Hong Kong.

At the day of the fan meet, you had took the day off from your boring low paying job at the law firm, so much for studying your ass off for bar exams, you’re just filing on a daily basis.

Before the day of the fan meet, you had lived off of instant cup noodles for a few weeks just to buy the album and their light stick. When you first listened to the album, you were proud of Yukhei’s rapping skills, you still recall the days when he’d struggle with his mandarin oral tests, the teachers there must be much better than you for him to improve so much, smiling fondly at the old memories.

You waved the light stick and sang along just like the other fans beside you, mesmerised by the performance that the boys are putting up, but your eyes were mostly on Yukhei, you would’ve never thought the once clumsy giant like him would dance as fluidly, executing the moves just as well as the other smaller sized members.

You watch as Yukhei introduces himself and his non Cantonese members in his mother tongue, a feeling of familiarity settling into your mind.

You are quite a confident person, but queuing up to the long table where Yukhei sat at the corner was nerve wrecking to you, what would he say to you? Would he recognise you? It hasn't been that long, but the two of you had done some changes to your looks.

The other members had greeted you with a friendly smile and a few casual questions like have you eaten, but they seem a bit taken aback by the lack of fan girl attitude that most of the fans in front of you had.

When you had got to Yukhei, he had dropped his marker on the floor, his head ducked out of sight to retrieve it, but when he came up to apologise, the words were stuck in his throat, as his eyes opened as wide as saucers. He coughed to mask the surprise on his face.

“Hi, how are you?” He asked as he took your album into his hands, scribbling something down.

“Good, how have you been?” although his hair is coloured, his eyes had contacts, and he wasn't in his messy uniform, the smile on his face never changed.

“Great, it's nice to see you,” to other fans and the staff beside him, they might think it's just one of the standard answers, but you knew Yukhei like the back of your hand, registering the twinkle in his eyes.

Soon, he had placed the album back into your hands, your fingers grazing gently as tiny sparks flew up your tips, eyes never breaking contact until the staff tells you to leave.

When you had sat down at a nearby cafe to get a cup of coffee, you took out your album and flipped to the page where Lucas had written something.

‘Hilton hotel, 9pm,' and his number under it.

At nine sharp, you waited by the hotel’s sitting area, not many people at that time as usually stores in Hong Kong open rather late, patiently you waited for Yukhei. Just as you were scrolling through posts on Instagram, a tall figure approached you.

A call of your name rolled off his tongue naturally, a wave of nostalgia hitting the both of you.

“I bought you a little something before I got here,” you said as you stood up, letting him guide you to the elevators.

“What is it?” Yukhei lets out a flustered laugh, scratching the back of his nape when he realised he didn't get you anything in return.

“Roast goose and Cha Siew, are they still your favourite?” you asked, hoping his taste hasn’t changed over the years.

“Yeah, man, I remember how we'd always get quarter of both after school at Uncle Chan’s,” Yukhei said, remembering how the boss of the restaurant had hung a photo of two of you on the wall, deeming the two of you his most loyal lovebirds.

“This is from Uncle Chan’s,” you told him as you followed him into his room, looking around, expecting him to be rooming with someone.

“Don't worry, I told Yang Yang to sleep with Ten for the night,” Yukhei said when he saw you looking for someone.

“Oh, that's really nice of him,” you said as you set out the food, the smell of Hong Kong's famous delicacies wafting in the air.

“Man, I really missed this,” Yukhei said as he pulls the arm chair that was a few feet away close to the desk, directing you into it and situating himself in the not so comfortable wooden chair.

“I missed this too,” you said mindlessly, eyes avoiding his before you ate a piece of meat.

“I missed you too,” Lucas confessed, yes there are many pretty girls in his industry, and Korea itself, but no one would be able to replace you, you were his rock all his life, other than his family of course, it's hard to build a connection with someone just as strong when things between the two of you never really ended, in a way.

Leaving on too good terms and without much closure for both of you kept one another thinking of each other. The two of you know, that after tonight, things would go back to normal, Yukhei would be Wayv’s Lucas, and you’d remain as his past, there would never be an outcome from whatever happens tonight.

So when the two of you were recalling memories and troubles the two of you got in school on the oh so comfortable bed, you couldn't help it, hooking a leg over Yukhei’s waist, just like how it started at the night of the graduation party, the night where the two of you lost your virginities to each other.

“I’d be gone tomorrow, we shouldn’t, I shouldn't do this to you,” Yukhei said, a firm believer that it's always the girl that is on the losing side, like he's taking an advantage of you, ever the gentleman.

“I want this for myself, Yukhei, it's not like it's our first time,” you said, trying to convince him.

“I still feel guilty about our first time, I left a few months later after that night, and tomorrow would be the same, I'll be leaving you once more,” Yukhei said as his big hands caressed your cheeks, eyes wide like a puppy, pupils reflecting an image of you, a perfect representation of his universe, you.

“I don't care, I’ve moved on from you as your girlfriend all those years ago, moving on from you after tonight won't be a challenge for me,” you said in a firm tone, one that Yukhei knows all too well, he knows you won't give up when you sound like this.

He could possibly break two hearts if he chooses to act on his impulses, but he missed this, he missed you, and so he threw all caution out of the window when he smashed his lips desperately against yours, chewing on your bottom lip with little force, it was something that would easily get you worked up back then, and to his delight, it still worked, letting him dominate the kiss easily, he let his tongue slid in your mouth, tasting the beer the two of you had just now with a mixture of strawberry lip gloss, you were still using the Nivea one you used all those years ago, this only fuelled his desire for you, his hands leaving your cheeks to locate your waist, pulling you closer to him.

When you were out of air, you broke off the kiss, reaching the hem of your shirt to pull it off, then waiting a few seconds for Yukhei to admire the red lace on your skin before unclasping your bra, letting your blossoms free, all the while as Yukhei looks on, like he was in a trance.

“I missed these,” he commented before taking a mound into his mouth, sucking on your nipple diligently while his other hand comes up to roll it in between the pads of his fingers, the pleasure from the action making you throw your head back, a slip of his name in between your whimpers.

You let Yukhei push you back, letting you fall onto his bed, you felt his hands wander up your skirt, his huge hands around your thighs, squeezing the flesh in his palms, feeling you, but stopped when he reached the hem of your panties, detaching himself from your chest, looking at you for confirmation.

You nodded at him, putting your hand over his to guide him higher, stopping at the curve of your cheek, pushing his hand beneath the clothe, dangerously close to your core, heck he could even feel your arousal already, eyes rolling back at the thought of getting you so worked up.

“Take it off, but you can leave the skirt, for old time’s sake,” you said.

Yukhei looked at you, confused at what you’re trying to say, until he realised you were wearing a pleated checkered skirt, just like the ones you wore back in high school, memories of the two of you sneaking around, having a quickie with your skirt flipped up immediately made blood rush southwards at the thought.

“Fuck, you expected this to happen?” Yukhei asked, shaking his head in disbelief, he was always the troublemaker at school, but oh how the tables have turned now.

“Didn't you?” you asked before getting up to put yourself in a doggy position, shaking your butt, taunting him.

Yukhei chuckled to himself before doing as you say, taking off your panties to reveal your slick covered pussy, dripping wet for him on display.

Yukhei spreads you open by pulling your cheeks apart to lick a stripe up your slit, making you shudder at the warm muscle that was intruding but very much welcomed.

Yukhei allowed himself to fully stuff his face there, inserting his tongue into your core, thrusting the wet muscle at a moderate pace before adding a finger to the mix, then two, stretching you open to let his tongue delve deeper inside, he then adds a third finger, the fullness finally hitting you, soon he did a come hither movement once he had located your sweet spot, his tongue and fingers rubbing against the roof of your walls deliciously, you would’ve lost your balance if it weren't for his hand supporting you by your left hip.

The constant pleasure that Yukhei so willingly inflicted upon you would've soon come to an euphoric end if he hadn’t halted all movement, pulling out his tongue and his fingers, which made you whine his name pathetically, something you wouldn't have done if it weren't for the fact that your mind was reduced to a ball full of cotton.

“Chill, I worked you up so I wouldn't hurt you with my dick,” Yukhei said as he positions himself at your entrance, his hand coming up to your face to tilt your head to his direction, zeroing on your lust filled eyes and the plump of your lips, swollen because of him.

“Are you sure you want this?” Yukhei asks you one last time.

“Yes, please,” you said, pushing yourself back to lightly grind on his length, a little bit of your arousal getting onto his cock, his dick getting so hard it's starting to hurt.

“Ever so eager, aren't you?” Lucas said before biting his lip at the sight.

“Just put it in!” you whined, tired of his teasing.

“Okay, okay,” Yukhei said before bracing himself for your tight walls, he's never nervous when it comes to others, but you? You always held a special place in his heart.

Yukhei spreads your cheeks once more before aligning himself to slip in an inch, eyebrows furrowing at how tight you were, he could tell you were clenching up, just like you did the first time when you were nervous.

So he bends down to your back, placing gentle kisses along your right shoulder blade.

“Don’t tense up, there’s nothing to be nervous about, we did this before remember?” Yukhei said in his most gentle tone ever, you nodded your head at his words, adjusting yourself to let yourself lose in the comfort of his touch, reminding yourself that although it's been a long time since you had someone as big as him, you’ll be fine in his hands.

Once Yukhei felt yourself unclench, he pushes in furthermore, you felt yourself arching your back to allow him to fit himself easier, before he comes to a halt, you felt so full, you haven't felt this way in such a long time, it was somewhat overwhelming, but it's the most complete feeling ever, a feeling you've never felt with any other.

The initial stretch was slightly painful of course, but the pain soon turned into pleasure, and being the gentleman Yukhei is, waited for you despite the huge urge to move, waiting for your green light.

When you told him he could move, he felt like the gates of heaven just opened, pulling out slightly to give you a shallow thrust, just to test the waters.

Even with that experimental thrust, you felt like you had a taste of heaven, eager to drown yourself in this new found pleasure that you were once so familiar with.

Yukhei grasped his large hands onto your hips, setting a moderate pace, still restraining himself from snapping his hips, but from how much slick you were dripping, soon you'd be begging for more.

Once you felt yourself familiarise with his big cock, the pace that Yukhei had set wasn’t enough, you wanted him to let loose, you wanted him to rail you, be damned if you can’t walk tomorrow.

So in the midst of all the pleasure, you let out two desperate words breathlessly, “ruin me”.

Yukhei had to do a double take, pausing his movements entirely just to check if that was his mind messing with him or it was really you, but one look at your desperate face, revealed to him that was in fact your words.

Yukhei allowed the animalistic side of him to take over, holding onto your hips that would sure leave bruises the next day, but you didn’t mind, not when you felt a sudden surge of pleasure coursing through your body. He angled your body higher, arching your back for easier access, thrusting harder and faster.

You could only submit yourself to him as your toes curled and your fingers dig into the linen sheets, you’re sure if his members were next door, they'd be able to hear every single sound you make, the sound of your ass cheeks clapping against Yukhei’s hips and your high pitched moans were flowing freely, but you didn't care, not when this could be the last time you'd ever be with Yukhei.

Soon, you could feel yourself getting closer to the edge, your legs were trying their best not to fail you, and you could tell your arms were getting sore from propping yourself up as the cord in your abdomen threatened to snap, you panted out the word ‘close’, and Yukhei immediately understood, fucking into you at an inhuman pace, you could feel yourself losing your mind as spit drips from your mouth, sanity slowly slipping away from you as you felt your impending orgasm, it started from the tip of your toes, your body convulsing as you screamed his name, succumbing into the pleasure, your core bursting, the strongest orgasm you've ever felt, making your whole body sag in defeat as you let Yukhei help you ride out your orgasm.

Just when you thought it was all over, Yukhei gently flipped you over, and that’s when you realised he hasn’t cum, so you lifted your legs higher to let him enter you once again, he was using you like his personal doll, and you love it a little bit too much to be considered normal, you struggled to keep your eyes open as you fought through the slight pain from the overstimulation, hearing Yukhei’s mumble of appreciation and endearments.

“Can you give me one more, babe? Just one more,” Yukhei said before circling his fingers around your clit, making your eyes snap open when you realise he wants you to cum once more, your hands coming up to push his hand away, but his other hand grasped onto yours.

“Just one more, please,” Yukhei begged with those puppy eyes of his, and how could you say no?

So you stopped struggling, nodding your head at his request before he quickens the pace of his hips and the ministrations on your clit.

Soon, you could feel Yukhei’s cock swelling inside you before he let out a groan of your name, thrusting in one last hard thrust before he painted your walls white, his lips capturing yours to silent you as you came once more, your nails digging into his shoulders, your eyes fluttering shut as you felt Yukhei ride out both your highs.

Once he was done, Yukhei crashed onto the bed beside you, his arms wrapping around yours, kissing your lips to distract you as he pulled out, hopping into the attached bathroom to bring out two towels, taking off your skirt before he gently cleans you up, when he was done he wiped the juices you left on him, your eyes growing big when you knew it was from when you squirted on him.

“Sorry, I didn’t realise I squirted,” you mumbled behind the hands that you had covering your embarrassed face.

Yukhei laughed at the cute sight, throwing the towel aside before climbing into bed again, removing your hands away from your face, kissing you deeply before looking at you in the eye.

“I loved it,” he said before pulling you closer, and almost instantly, you were lulled to sleep by the beating of his heart.

When you woke up, Yukhei was still snoring beside you, sleeping like a baby, you gently removed his hand from your waist, stepping out of the bed before gathering your clothes, putting them on, smoothing out the creases of your skirt.

Walking to the door, you glanced around once more at the sight of him, your heavy heart begging you to stay, to talk, and so you walked over to the night stand, ripping a piece of paper of the note pad and grabbing the pen next to it.

‘Goodbye and thank you for everything.’

You placed the piece of paper beside him on his pillow before kissing his forehead as a parting gift, closing the door as softly as you could when you left.

You knew this was the right thing to do, you made this decision once when he left for Korea the first time, you can't be in his way this time around, not when he's this far into his career, you can’t be selfish, he belongs on this path, he deserves it and you’re not going to take it away from him, you've stood on the side-lines all this time, he shed the limelight on you for one night, and that's all you should have, he's better off without you.

Yukhei felt himself grow cold when he couldn't feel the warmth of your body, jerking up to check if you were in the bathroom, only to find the door wide open, the room empty.

That's when he had spotted the piece of paper with your goodbye message, his heart clenching in pain, crashing onto the bed once more.

He didn't know what to expect, you had sent him off once, and now you left him without saying goodbye. He thought he could at least say goodbye.

Pushing his thoughts away, he gathered his things, packing up to leave for Korea.

His members could tell something was terribly off, they thought he was just in it for a casual hook up, but his expression tells otherwise.

The usual cheerful Yukhei was nowhere to be found, which meant Yang Yang and Hendery had to keep the mood light throughout the journey home, everyone knew to not say anything, only speaking when crucial.

It took Yukhei quite a while for him to get back to his goofy self, but even then, Kun, being the most observant one, saw a tightness in his smile, a faraway look in his eyes, whoever he had seen that night must've meant a lot to him, but he dare not to press, he knows Yukhei would open up when he's ready.

It was a normal Tuesday night when he had received a request to face time from you, without thinking much of it, excited to hear from you, he accepted, your beautiful face coming into view as he got comfortable on his bed.

“Hey, this is unexpected,” Yukhei said, not knowing what else to say.

“Yukhei, there’s something I need to tell you,” you said, eyes avoiding his.

“Yeah, what's up?” he asked, rubbing his nape, a habit he does whenever he's nervous.

“I'm um, I’m pregnant,” you said, choosing to not beat around the bush.

You could see Yukhei's face pale when he processed your words. Is it his? It's definitely his, it's almost a month since the two of you slept together, unless you slept with someone else?

“It's mine?” a dumb question, but he needs to know for sure.

“Yeah,” you said before the two of you come to a piercing silence.

“You could get an abortion, maybe?” Yukhei suggested after contemplating in his head, there’s no way he could be in the child’s life, and that's the best option for your sake, raising a child in Hong Kong is the most expensive thing to do, equivalent to buying a house there.

“I decided to keep it, Yukhei,” you said, glancing up to see the disbelief on his face.

“You can’t, you know I can't be there for you and you’re still so new in your job, you can't risk your life for this!” Yukhei said, not comprehending on why you'd do this to yourself.

“I already decided, Yukhei, and I don't expect you to take responsibility, this is my choice,” you said as tears threatened to flow.

“That isn't fair, it's not fair for the child! A child needs its father! You don't know what you're doing! Being a single mum is next to impossible in Hong Kong! You're putting the child in a horrible situation just for your selfishness!” Yukhei said before pushing his hair back, the feeling of an impending headache forming.

“How dare you say that?! I’ll raise this child perfectly on my own, I was just calling you to inform you of it, but since you don't want anything to do with it or me, I guess this is goodbye and don't call me anymore, I won't change my mind,” you said before your face disappeared from his phone screen.

Yukhei tried calling you immediately after, a day later, several weeks later, but you never picked up. Then he started stressing about his career, what would happen if someone were to find out? But he knows you as a person, and being a tell-tale is not one of your characteristics, yeah, he can just act like nothing happened, like he had never received this call.

He knows he's running away from his problems, but what other choice does he have?

Fast forwarding to July of 2021, Yukhei is home after his filming of the popular Chinese reality show in China, Keep Running, he feels at ease when he sees his family, finally reuniting with them, but only for a short two weeks time, before he has to leave for Korea once more.

It was a Friday night when his friends from home took him out for a drink, he was not so familiar with the clubbing scene in Hong Kong, but with the knowledge he has of this area, he knows many rich and young people often here, just like the girl kissing up his neck now, her soft hands running up the expanse of his thigh, getting dangerously close to where he wants her to be.

Yet Yukhei doesn’t remember her name, was it Candy? Apple? Some sort of name that had to do with food, he just remembered that she told him that she was an up and coming model, or trying to be anyways.

Just as she suggested to go to some hotel, Yukhei suggested for a quickie in the bathroom first, and so here he is now, being pushed to the door of a stall, her hands trying to unbuckle his belt.

Yukhei reached the back of his pocket for his wallet, opening it, looking for the condom he had placed there, but cursed when he realised he must've dropped it when he paid for drinks.

He told her to go back out and wait for him to get some, leaving the club and the musky smoke filled place behind him, the summer breeze blowing his hair all over, he brings the hood of his jacket up as he scans for a nearby convenience store, locating one at the street across.

When he got in, the scent of curry immediately greeted him, it was your favourite food, everyday after school, no doubt you'll drag him into one of these shops, just to share a bowl of curry fish balls, one of the most famous snacks here in Hong Kong.

He pushed the thought away, trudging to the aisle that was on the most right, where the condoms were at, hidden away from children. He took a box and made his way to the counter, opening his wallet to take out a few notes.

The cashier turned her back from stocking the cigarette shelf, scanning the box wordlessly.

“That would be 30,” she said when she looked up, but her hand immediately dropped the box when she saw who it was, and that's when Yukhei truly opened his eyes to see who it was, at first he was just miffed not knowing why the cashier froze, then he sees you, in the worn out 7 Eleven uniform, was you, the last person he’d be expecting.

“Why are you here? What happened to your job at the law firm? Why...” Yukhei didn't know how to ask, he didn't know if he deserved the right to ask, yet there's so many questions he had swarming in his head. Where is his child? Did you abort it in the end? Did you give it up for adoption? Were you fired from your job because of it?

“It's my shift right now, and you seem to be getting lucky tonight,” you said stiffly, holding up the box for him to see, sliding it across the counter

“It's for my friend actually,” Yukhei said, eyes avoiding yours, but immediately looking at you straight in the eyes, remembering how you use to be able to see right through him whenever he didn't do the revision work you've given him.

“Right,” you said, resisting to roll your eyes.

“You haven't answered me, why are you working here instead of the law firm?” Yukhei pressed.

You sigh at his persistence, not knowing what to say to humour him, so you didn't say anything, getting back to rearranging the shelves.

Yukhei bit his lip, not knowing what to say to you, but a million questions in his head, desperate for answers.

“Please leave if you're done with your purchases,” you said, you had a long day, and the thought of entertaining him was not something you want to add on your plate.

Yukhei looked around the store once more, grabbing a bowl of instant noodles from the shelf before making his way once more to the cashier.

“I’d like to have this here,” Yukhei said before pulling out some spare change from just now.

“Yukhei, what are you trying to do?” you asked in an exasperated tone, there's no point making small talk when there's no way the two of you would ever cross in each other’s lives ever again.

“I'm hungry, I want to eat noodles,” which wasn’t really a lie, all the alcohol he drank before gave him an appetite.

You sighed, turning your back to him, soundlessly waited for the water to boil before pouring it into the cup, sealing the top for it to cook. As you worked, Yukhei was having déjà vu, this was an all too familiar sight, nights at the convenience store studying till late at night in groups, you'd always share noodles with him as you taught him some dumb math formula that no one uses in their life after school.

He takes his bowl of noodles, opting to sit at the place closest to the counter, just looking at you, eating as slow as humanly possible.

When it was around three, you received a call.

“Hello?”

“...”

“You think you have a stomach ache? Celine jia is asleep? Okay, mama’s coming home okay?” you said frantically before shutting off the stove of the food at the counter, running to the back for a pack of meds, depositing some money into the register. You looked at Yukhei, frozen at his seat, cursing at yourself for not going into the back room before picking up the call.

“You need to go, I have something to deal with,” you said as you grabbed your bag, turning off all the switches in one go, making the place pitch black other than the lights from the lamp posts outside.

“Is that my child?” Yukhei asked, he can't allow himself to act like it never happened before, he ran away once, it's time to man up and shoulder on his responsibilities.

“No I fucked another guy before you and it's his child,” you deadpanned.

You walked down the street to flag for a taxi that is always parked there to get their club goer customers, Yukhei hot on your heels, you turned back to look at him questioningly.

“This is none of your concern, don’t follow me,” you said in a rather seething tone, you didn't mean to sound like that, but if he's going to be in the way of your child, then he’s not a friend.

“That's my child too, I want to know how they are, I have a right to do so, you studied law, you should know,” Yukhei retorted in the most friendly way possible, he knows he's in the wrong, but he wants to ensure his child’s safety.

“For fuck’s sake,” you cursed aloud before stepping into the taxi, leaving the door open for him.

You told the driver your address, sitting back to think of what's the problem, the kindergarten shouldn't be the culprit, it's a school with a good reputation, which also burns a hole in your wallet, but you don't mind, and it's not like you have much of a choice, education is deadly expensive here.

About 20 minutes later, you've reached home.

“That'll be 150, miss,” the driver said.

“What?!”

“Fares are different after midnight, miss,” the driver reminded you.

Before you could check if you had enough money on you, Yukhei paid for it wordlessly.

You got out of the car, rushing into the building and running up the stairs as quick as you can, unlocking the door, jabbing the keys into the rusty lock.

Taking off your shoes before you made your way to your room, spotting your son crouched in the corner of your bed, hands around his stomach.

“Hey, mama's home, I'll get you a glass of water to take your medicine okay?” you said before hurrying out, Yukhei passing you a glass of water at the kitchen.

“Thanks,” you mumbled before making your way back inside.

You open the package and passed you son a tablet, but looking at the size, you knew he’d panic to swallow something this big, so you broke it in half, telling him to drink a big gulp of water to wash it down and it'll be fine.

All the while, Yukhei was watching with wonder leaning by the door frame, even in the dim lights and the fact that he's still quite young, he could still identify his eyes on his son, the strong genes in his family, his father and brother all had those eyes, this boy is most definitely his.

The boy diligently does as you told him, taking a big gulp of water, so obedient, and from the way the two of you communicate, very mature for his age, nothing like the usual three year old.

When he was done, he noticed Yukhei’s presence, tugging your sleeve to whisper into your ear, eyes trained on him.

“That's a friend of mine, love, be polite, say hi to Yukhei gogo,” you urged.

Yukhei took this as a sign to get closer to his son, squatting down to meet his eye.

“You’re a handsome boy, what's your name? I’m Yukhei and I’m 22 this year, how about you?” Yukhei asked as he reached out his hand for the little boy to shake.

“I’m Wenghei, 3 years old. Why have I never seen you before gogo?” the child asks, looking at him with curious eyes, he's met some of your friends, but he's definitely haven't met him before, most people aren't as tall here, or not in his mother's circle anyways.

“Get some rest, love,” you said, tucking him into bed.

“Okay,” he said, a yawn coming out from his mouth.

You closed the door behind you, directing Yukhei to the small living room area, serving him a glass of water.

You walked to the trash bin, opening the lid to check its contents, a scowl on your face when you saw the root of your son’s stomach ache when you spot the plastic container that contained the two day old pizza from the freezer. Your roommate, Celine, must’ve gave him some as dinner, usually you'd leave some money for Celine to buy him dinner, but she must've been tight on money again, trying to find ways to squeeze in some spare change, you've warned her of her spending habits, always splurging on albums of her favourite stars, which reminds you.

“You have to go, I’m living with a roommate and I'm sure she's going to recognise you,” you said, a hand gesturing at the door.

“Wait, did you find out why he had a stomach ache?” Yukhei asked.

“Yeah, he ate something he shouldn't have for dinner, you have to go, I need some rest for tomorrow,” you said, struggling to keep your eyes open.

“Do you have anything on tomorrow? Can I see you, perhaps?” Yukhei asked, he didn't know what he wanted to talk about, but he just had to see you again.

“I’m tutoring a student at a coffee shop tomorrow, you can come right after,” you said, thinking that he just wants to know more about his son.

“Okay, goodnight then,” Yukhei said awkwardly as he walks towards the door.

“Goodnight,” you said, feeling a weight on your chest, dreading tomorrow’s meeting.

When Yukhei arrived at the café, he could see you sitting at the way back, a teenage girl sitting in front of you, back facing him, he sipped on his latte, observing you silently.

Your hair is much longer than it had been in high school, the bag hung by your chair very much worn out, and your eye bags were heavier than on days where Yukhei would stay up to prepare for promotions.

Soon, the student was packing up, leaving the table, Yukhei took this as a sign to move to your table. You had stood up to greet him, and that's when he saw, you had lost lots of weight, and he's not meaning it in a fitness way, he recognised the jeans you are wearing, you had these even back then, they used to be a perfect fit for you, that's why they were your favourite, but now, you were wearing a belt to hold it together, and still he could see how loose it was.

“Hey, you didn't order anything?” Yukhei asked, noting that the cup of coffee he saw just now belonged to your student.

“I got a coffee in my flask, cheaper that way,” you said as you packed up your stationaries.

“What did you have for breakfast? How about I order you a piece of cake?” Yukhei suggested, looking back to see what they have today.

“It's alright, I'm not hungry, why don't we get straight to the point? What is it you want to ask about Wenghei?” you asked, noting the time on your watch, you have to leave around noon to fetch your son from pre school.

“I, how about you? Why did you leave the firm? And how’s your parents?” Yukhei started off.

“Well, they said I would’ve been an embarrassment to the firm, you know, pregnant and unmarried, so they told me to leave, it's not like filing could be done with a big weight in my stomach, so I did as they said. Now I tutor kids English and work the night shift at the convenience store, and as for my parents, they kicked me out,” you said, laying down the cards, no point avoiding his questions, especially not when you're in a hurry.

Yukhei nodded at your words, registering the fact that he had a fault in ruining your hot shot lawyer dreams and completely destroyed your sensitive relationship with your parents, how is he ever going to forgive himself?

“I’m sorry,” Yukhei said, he didn't know what else to say, how could he make it up to you and your son? Will you let him even if he could?

“Don't be, this is on the both of us, are you going to ask about the share custody stuff? If so, I don't think we should continue this conversation, Wenghei doesn’t know who you are, and maybe that's the best case scenario, what point would be made if he knew you were his father but you're not in our lives? It'll break his heart. You've seen him now, maybe you can reconnect with him when he's older, I think you should just say goodbye before you go, if you want,” you said, saying these harsh words aloud wasn’t easy, you’re not entirely a cold hearted bitch, but it's for the best that your son didn’t know about his father, no one wants to know the fact that their father abandoned them twice, some truths are better to be untold.

“Can I see him one last time, maybe tonight? For dinner? I'm leaving in two days,” Yukhei said in a defeated tone.

“Yeah, sure, I'll take the shift off tonight,” you said, eyes avoiding his, you could just tell he’d have those sad puppy eyes on his face right now, you don't need anymore guilt in your heart.

“Hey man, where were you?” Jackson asked Yukhei, who was waiting for him at the harbour, they were going to Macau for a day trip today, his friend isn't late for the boat, but they did schedule to meet 15 minutes earlier.

“Something came up, and I need to head back around 7, there’s some people I need to see,” Yukhei said as they boarded the boat.

“So that leaves us 5 hours, should be enough,” Jackson said, checking his watch.

“I’m sorry about this, man, it just came up suddenly,” Yukhei said as they took their seats, apologetic because they have been talking about this trip for a long time now.

“It's okay, dude, but what's up? You look really stressed,” Jackson asked, taking in Yukhei's clenched jaw and furrowed brows, a stark contrast from his usually carefree expression.

“It's a long story,” Yukhei said as he mindlessly watches the sea from the little window of his seat.

“Well, if you don't mind, this is a 45 minutes journey, maybe we'll be able to find a solution together, what are friends for am I right?” Jackson offered, he wouldn't press his friend if he didn't want to tell him about it, but the two of them have been close ever since going on knowing brothers, coming from the same home country and everything.

And so Yukhei, for the first time, told his friend his long love story.

“You know, I think I have a solution for you, but let me ask you one thing first, do you still love her?” Jackson asked as he ate his pork chop bun, Macau’s famous local snack.

Yukhei pondered over his friend’s question, yes the two of you agreed to break up, but all the girls he dated after you, all had similar features or personality traits to you, he had dismissed it as just a type, but now that he had seen you again, he realised that the hole in his heart was always emptied for you, you were the missing puzzle piece all along.

“You don't even have to answer me, your face tells all man,” Jackson said, an oily finger wagging at the direction of his face.

“Yeah, I think I do,” Yukhei said with a sigh, “but even if I still love her, that doesn’t mean she loves me back, and what if we do love each other? We're living oceans apart,” Yukhei said in a defeated tone.

“Now here comes my solution, so you said she got fired from her law firm and is now tutoring kids and doing the night shift at 7 E, and got kicked out by her shitty parents, so she really doesn't have anything else here for her other than her son, why don't you suggest get to move with you? To Korea? It'll be way easier for the two of you to raise your son, even if the two of you don't get back together, I mean, at least you'll be able to financially support them, that is what you're willing to do right?” Jackson asked, hoping that his friend would uptake his part of the child support.

“Yeah, of course I want that, I just don't know what she'll say, or if she'd be willing, she doesn't speak the language and it's an entirely different environment,” Yukhei said, thinking back the days where he had a tough time adjusting.

“From what you told me, she sounds like a tough nut, but of course, this is all up to you, but just so you know, I would really like to be his godfather, and as for your doubts of her love towards you, she did name him after you, isn't it the same Hei?” Jackson said with a hearty chuckle, he could just imagine the fun they'll have together, he was always fond of children.

“Yeah, I’ll persuade her on this,” Yukhei said, he could already feel himself getting nervous for tonight’s dinner, it can’t be that much of a coincidence that his son’s last name resembled his right? Or is he and Jackson just being delusional?

“Now that's my buddy, now come on, finish your food so that we’ll make it in time for the next batch of Portuguese egg tarts, I remember they have a fresh batch around 4,” Jackson said, mouth salivating at the thought of more food.

When you arrived at the restaurant, it was fancier than what you had expected, feeling underdressed among the rich elite of Hong Kong in your old dress that you wear for every special occasion.

You asked if there was a reservation under your name, since Yukhei said he had it booked under you, and almost immediately, since not that many people can afford places like these, the waiter led you in.

“Mama, what is this place? We've never ate here before,” your son asked you.

“It's a French cuisine restaurant, we’re meeting gogo here, remember him? Or were you too sick that day?” you said as you placed him on the baby chair you had requested for.

“Yeah, I remember,” your son said as he looks around in awe, registering the pretty chandeliers that look so sparkly.

When the waiter handed you a menu, someone had joined your table, his hoodie pulled up so no one would recognise him, pulling it down when he saw that there wasn't any other customers around.

“Sorry, am I late?” Yukhei asked with a sheepish smile, a hand lifting up to check the time.

“No, we’re just early, say hi to Yukhei gogo, love,” you directed the last part to your son, patting his little hand to get his attention, smiling immediately when he lands on the tall figure.

“Gogo, you're here,” your son said excitedly, making grabby hands at him, letting his father carry him with a large smile on his face.

“Hey, buddy, don't you look excited to see me?” Yukhei said before blowing raspberry at his neck, making the young boy giggle.

What you didn't expect was to see someone coming up behind Yukhei, a little bit shorter and smaller in built, but when he pulled his hoodie down, you instantly recognised who it was.

“Jackson Wang?” you asked, blinking your eyes a few times to see if you were hallucinating.

“Hey, it’s nice to finally meet you, you look lovely tonight, and you must be little Wenghei, aren't you adorable, how about Jackson gogo take you out to buy toys, huh? I saw a big toy store just across the street, but only if your ma says yes of course,” Jackson said, giving you a side eye to Yukhei.

“Yeah, sure,” you said, it's not like the Jackson Wang is going to kidnap your son right?

“Don’t worry, I’ll watch him with my life,” Jackson said as Yukhei passes his son over to him, leaving the restaurant with his hood up once more.

“Is there something you'd like to say?” you asked Yukhei after he had taken the seat across you his hands were shaking slightly as he holds up the menu.

“I... I still love you. And I know I must sound like a jerk to you, hell I’d go back in time just to hit myself for running away, I'm really sorry for that. What I did was inexcusable, my career just stabilised at that time, and I was under immense stress from SM, you have every right to be mad at me, but I want to be apart of your life again, apart of Wenghei’s life as well, if you could let me have this second chance, I'll do anything to make the both of you happy,” Yukhei said in one breath, reciting what he had practised over and over again with Jackson in the car.

“Yukhei, I,” you were lost for words, you thought you were saying goodbye once more, that Yukhei and you would always end up in goodbyes, but now here he is, saying he loves you.

“Yukhei, you can't just say you love me for the sake of our son, and neither would you need to take responsibility for him, I chose to have him, and as for love, we can never be together, you’re an international super star now, and you're living in Korea, I don't think I have the energy to be in a long distance relationship with you, that would take a toll on Wenghei too, how am I going to explain to him that his father is in another country? He’ll always question your love for him and I don't want that,” you said, trying to hold in the tears that had built up in your eyes, your throat closing up, the cold facade you built for yourself crumbling down before his eyes.

“You can move to Korea, both of you, we can be a family,” Yukhei pleaded, his hands reaching forward to hold yours, his eyes searching yours.

“We can’t, what if we break up? What if your so called love for me, is just something you feel as a result of our child? You can't uproot the two of us when there's so many uncertainties, especially our emotions,” you said, you don't want either of you to be stuck in a relationship for the sake of raising a child, no one would be happy in the end.

“Love, you don't understand, I've never had a serious relationship after you, I tried, I really did, but I’d always think of you instead, how badly I wanted you instead of someone who reminds me of you, the thing is, I’ve always loved you, and I think you still love me too, or you wouldn't have named our son after me, am I right?” Yukhei hoped, why else would you come up with that name right?

Damn it, you thought to yourself, he saw right through you, maybe you shouldn't have named your son after him.

You looked at him and looked away, darn those puppy eyes, you’re sure you’re crying now, and Yukhei reaching over to wipe away your tears just confirmed it.

“I love you, it's always been you, only you,” Yukhei confessed.

“I, I love you too, Yukhei, and I was never mad at you for running away from us, I know how tough that industry is, but what if your fans find out about us?” you asked, slightly worried that he might lose it like last time.

“Then so be it, true fans would stay,” he said in an affirmative tone, reassuring you.

“You promise?” you asked, holding out your pinky, it would’ve been a funny sight to see if anyone saw the two of you now, crying and smiling at the same time.

“I promise,” Yukhei said before hooking his own pinky to connect with yours.

“If you leave us, Wong Yukhei, I’ll murder you in your sleep,” you said as threatening as you could sound.

“I plan to see our son grow up, so I'll value my life,” Yukhei said in utmost sincerity before grabbing a napkin to wipe away all your tears, you’re glad that you didn't wear any mascara today.

Just when Yukhei wiped away the tears in his eyes, Jackson was back with your bubbly child, his arm had bags digging into his flesh.

“Oh my god, that's too much, Wenghei why did you get so many, this is Jackson gogo’s hard earned money,” you said, lecturing your son.

“It's okay, he's an angel, this was all on me, and I guess things went well?” Jackson asked, eyes darting to your connected hands.

“Yeah,” you said, the biggest smile you had on your face.

“That's great to hear, I always wanted to be an uncle, now if you’ll excuse me, I don't think I should crash this family reunion any longer,” Jackson said giving his best friend a hug before leaving.

“So... What do you like to eat Wenghei? How about we get crème brulé,” Yukhei asked, pointing at the menu with childlike eyes, reminding you of the days where he’d get ice cream with you, splitting it on half for you to share.

“Sounds delicious.”

You let Yukhei order everything, sharing between the three of you while the three of you talked, Yukhei mostly directed the questions at his child, asking about his interests, his favourites of everything, ranging from colour to ice cream, eager to make up for loss time.

“How about we talk about where you'll be staying?” Yukhei asked after ordering dessert.

“Oh, I don't know what I'll be able to afford, I'll probably get another convenience store job again, so the rent can't be too high,” you said, dreading the thought of needing to learn a new language quickly for a job.

“Hey, you don't need to work anymore, nor pay rent, I already looked it up, there's an empty unit in our condo, the soundproofing might be a bit lacking, but that wouldn't be a problem if you don't sing in the shower like Dejun, we had a few noise complaints because of him,” Yukhei said, laughing at the fond times he had at the dorms.

“Yukhei, I know housing is really expensive there, are you sure you want to do this?” you asked once more, you don't want him to resent the financial burden the two of you would add onto him.

“What did I say to you just now? I said what I meant, I want the two of you to be in my life, forever. And don't worry about money, I saved up plenty and there’s many more jobs coming up for me, and moving out of the dorms would be the next step of adulthood to me, and we’ll get to spend so much more time together, right Wenghei?” Yukhei asked, pinching your son’s chubby cheeks teasingly.

“We’ll be living together, Yukhei gogo?” your son asked, a confused expression on his face, he had his attention trained on some pink fong video, something about dinosaurs.

“Yeah, Wenghei, we’ll be moving out of our little room, are you excited? We're going to a new country. Remember the dramas I watched with you? Korea has that big outdoor theme park you said you always wanted to go, and snow, you'll get to make snowmen during the winter,” you persuaded, hoping he won’t fuss too much about the move.

“Really? There’s snow in Korea?” your son asked, excited about the winter scene he’ll get finally see in real life.

“Yeah, real snow, not the bubbles in Disney land, are you excited?”

“Yeah, is Jackson gogo going to stay with us too?” your son asked, eyes darting to his new goodies before looking at you expectantly.

“Well, Jackson gogo has his own house and we have ours, but we can always visit him,” Yukhei explained.

“Hehe, okay,” your son said before getting distracted by the crème brulé set in front of him, digging in immediately.

“When do you want us to make the move?” you asked, thinking of all the things you have to pack, which isn't a lot, but you might have to courier some of your clothes over first.

“Whenever you want, I'll get our home ready as soon as possible, is there anything you need in the house? Other than the basics of course,” Yukhei asked, uncertain of any needs you have as a woman or maybe for your son.

“Can we have a study room for Wenghei? With a desk and shelves? We love to read, and he'll need a proper desk when he's older,” you asked, hoping it wasn't too much.

“Yeah, sure, I'll be sure to get it done,” Yukhei said, noting it down into his phone.

“But it's no rush on the study room part, he's just three after all, before I go, I have to apply visas for both of us,” you said, dreading the thought of filling up paperwork, you haven't done much of that ever since you left the law firm.

“Call me if you need any help on that, I'm sure my manager knows how to,” Yukhei said.

“You’re going to tell your company about us?” you asked, knowing how strict Korean entertainment companies are.

“They can't let me go just because of having my own family, they didn't let Jongdae, my senior, go, so we’ll be fine, I promise,” Yukhei said, reaching a hand over to hold yours reassuringly, his eyes looking into yours, filled with love and adoration.

“Okay, now how about we walk around the complex until 10? Wenghei doesn't have school tomorrow,” you suggested.

“Yeah, sure, we could even stay out later if you want,” Yukhei said enthusiastically, getting up slightly to call for the bill.

“You have a flight to catch tomorrow,” you reminded him in your motherly voice, which you regretted almost instantly, cursing yourself, reminding yourself to act more like an actual 22 year old, but Yukhei didn't say anything about it, hiding his smile by nodding deeply, almost like a bow.

“Okay, I just wanted to spend more time with the two of you,” Yukhei said, stopping when he saw the waiter coming back with the credit card machine, paying with just a glance at the bill.

The three of you spent your remaining time shopping and at the arcade, playing games with your son, Yukhei had insisted on getting you a new pair of sneakers, but you shot him down when he wanted to buy more stuff, especially toys for Wenghei.

“You can buy him toys when we’re there, it'll cost even more to ship more stuff over, and there's a risk of damaging the toys as well,” you said.

But of course your son threw a fit at the shop, all for some legos.

“Hey, buddy, I'll buy you lots the next time I see you, okay? I'll buy you one that's even bigger than this,” Yukhei said, squatting down next to his son, and even then he wasn't eye level with him, sometimes you forget how tall Yukhei actually is until you see a scene like this, or when you stand really close to him.

When it was 10pm, painful goodbyes were exchanged with a promise of face timing everyday, your son cried, and held onto his father dearly, and you haven't even told him Yukhei was his dad, but their bond is evident.

Yukhei held onto you and your son until his taxi came, and you waved until you couldn't see the taillights.

It's been a month since that fateful reunion, and Yukhei has squeezed in face times, calls, and texts in between schedules, giving you and your son time despite his busy career.

His company wasn’t too happy about it of course, but was somewhat glad that you weren't one to babble your business to gossip outlets.

You're now packing your things, one last time, you've been to the post office multiple times before to courier out your stuff to Korea, and every time a box reached his address, Yukhei would take a photo of it, telling you the stuff arrived safely.

Progress on your new home was quick, since it was already a fully furnished unit, Yukhei only needed to buy some furniture and things that cater to your son’s needs, he even picked out a pre school that teaches mandarin, perfect for your son’s adjustment in such a foreign country.

Tomorrow you'd be flying to Korea, a new country, a new start, but there was something clouding your mind, something you've been dreading, but today is the day you’ll tell him.

“Wenghei, can you come to mama for a second?” you asked, soon hearing your son’s tiny footsteps nearing you.

“Yes, mama?” your son asked, a hand around his precious teddy.

“There's something I need to tell you,” you said holding him close to you, letting him sit onto your lap.

“Remember how you asked me why you didn't have a baba while all your other classmates did?” you asked, trying to word it as nicely as possible.

“You said my baba had a really big responsibility, that he couldn't see us because of it, that he'll come back when he's free,” your son answered you, struggling to remember more details.

“Yes, good job, Wenghei, your memorising skills are getting better. Well, your baba is actually Yukhei gogo, he’s back now, and we can finally be a family again,” you said before holding in a breath, not knowing how he’ll react.

“Baba is Yukhei gogo? That's why we’re going to Korea?” your son asked, confusion written on his face.

“Yeah, do you like that he's your baba?” you asked, this could be the most important question ever.

“Yeah, mama, do you love baba? Does baba love you as much as I do?” your son asked, which very much surprised you, but expecting this sort of maturity from him.

“Yes, we love each other, and both of us love you as much too,” you said with a pinch of his chubby cheeks.

“Do we ever have to be separated from baba again?” your son asked, scared of losing his newfound father.

“No, never again, and can you do me one favour, Wenghei? I think the next time when you see your baba, you should run up to him and say hi baba, he’ll be very happy to hear you call him that,” you suggested, imagining the look on Yukhei’s face.

Your son giggled at the thought of making his father happy, agreeing immediately.

“Okay, now go to sleep, it's going to be your first time flying tomorrow,” you said, ushering him onto the bed.

“Okay, goodnight, mama,” your son said to you, just like he did every other night, he seemed to have accepted it very easily, maybe it was due to his age, but some day he might ask his father about his departure personally when he understands more, but that’s a hardship that’s reserved for another day.

The flight was relatively short, though it was rather hard for Wenghei at the start because of the pressure he had experienced in his ears, the crying and whining got you plenty of dirty looks from passengers around you, but you paid no mind to it, you’ve been through worst so this is nothing that can faze you.

When you got there, you saw a lady holding up a plaque with your name on it, her phone in her hand, checking all the moms who came out of the same lane as you.

She had a friendly smile on her face when she saw you, introducing herself in mandarin, being one of Wayv’s staff, a trusted one, according to Yukhei.

She talked to you about Yukhei in general, even giving your son a bar of mini KitKat, praising him for being brave on the flight after she had asked you how was your flight.

Around half an hour later, you've reached your new home, a nice looking condominium that looked about a few years old.

Unloading took quite some time, even with the help of the staff, but what surprised you was the person who was waiting for you inside the lobby.

“You're here!” you said surprised at the sight of the giant.

“Yeah, I am, wanted to give you a surprise, sorry I couldn't be outside, some crazy fans camp outside, can’t let them bring you and Wenghei any harm,” Yukhei said as he carried Wenghei, spinning in a small circle, looking at him with full of love.

“I understand, don't worry, I'm not a teenager girl anymore,” you said as you checked out the place, the sitting area had a couch set and free WiFi, this is a 180 from the living conditions in Hong Kong.

“Baba, did you miss me?” your son asked when he had stopped giggling from his father’s spins, which instantly ceased to a halt, eyes growing as wide as saucers.

“What did you call me? Say it again,” Yukhei said with the biggest smile on his face, all of his teeth were showing.

“Mama said you were my Baba,” Wenghei said like it was as simple as two plus two.

“Yeah... I am your baba, and you're my son,” Yukhei said before holding his son even closer, you could even see the tears at the corner of his eyes.

“Why don't we go see our new home Wenghei?” you suggested, seeing that some people have came out from the lifts, typical going to work hours.

You walked a feet away from Yukhei, not wanting to draw attention, holding onto the lift for Yukhei to bring all your luggage in.

Once you were at your level, you started loosening up, noticing that no one was around.

“This is my members’ unit,” Yukhei said pointing at a door, “And this is ours,” Yukhei said before opening the door for you, welcoming you into a warmly decorated home, every piece of furniture was placed and chose to accommodate your child, all the corners were covered with this e rubber safety stickers.

He showed you into Wenghei's room where the bed had all his favourite characters in the form of a plushie, his bed was soft when you sat down on it, and the blanket he had picked out was a soft fleece material, perfect for the cold weather.

Your son was going around every corner, awing at everything his father had gotten him, especially the Lego sets that were on his desk.

“Thank you, it's beautiful, his room,” you said when Yukhei wrapped an arm around your waist, bringing you closer to him, god how much you've missed his warmth.

“Go take a look at your room,” Yukhei said before pulling your hand into the direction of the master bedroom, welcoming you into a room with a king size bed and silk linen sheets, an aesthetic looking vanity that you've always wanted as a teenager, now as well of course, and a little reading corner just for you by the window.

“It's all I've ever wanted,” you said in disbelief, not knowing how could Yukhei pull this off in such a short time.

“You like it? I got some help from my members, especially Kun for the kitchen, you should check it out afterwards, you always wanted a big kitchen area,” Yukhei said as you laid on the bed, giving your stiff body a rest from the journey.

“Lay down with me for a while, I’m a bit tired from the flight,” you said, making grabby hands at him.

“Nah, I shouldn’t, this is your bed,” Yukhei said, looking flustered.

“Wong Yukhei, I’ve had your child and now you're acting all innocent?” you asked in an accusing tone, playing with him, which made him lay down next to you immediately, he didn't like getting you angry, thinking back all those days when you had lectured him just like that when he forgot to do his homework.

“You want me to sleep here?” Yukhei asked carefully, observing your expressions.

“This is our bedroom, where else do you want to sleep?” you asked, but was promptly cut off by Yukhei's lips on yours, smiling as he kissed you, gentle but expressing all his love for you, a hand lingering on your back, guiding you closer than him.

Many mistakes that had to be made had guided you here, but you've never regretted, for if it wasn't for the hardships and the crossroads, you wouldn't have found a home with the man you'll cross oceans for.

The end.

#lucas smut #lucas fluff #lucas wong #wong yukhei #wayv smut #wayv fluff #nct #nct smut #nct fluff #wayv #this is rather cliche sorry

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midasinc · 3 years

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stoner les amis

this is a continued thought from my post on the stoner triumvirate, so i wont have them on here but click the link to read those hcs if you want!

-i subsection the rest of les amis in three categorites: the casual stonies, the rare stonies, and the rat stonies

-casual stonies are feuilly, jehan, and bossuet. all three of them very casually (obviously) and quite frequently get high

-jehan's choice of weapon: pipe a/o bong. jehan owns like 4 different bongs and at least 8 different pipes. There's a drawer in his kitchen that normally would hold utensils but instead has pipes, lighters, grinders, and storage containers. there's also a cabinet with his bongs and such

-feuilly's choice of weapon: blunt. feuilly is a cig smoker as well and the tobacco flavouring of the paper is comforting to him. he and combeferre are the two that prefer blunts above any other rolled paper. similarly to combeferre, he rolls really well but feuilly packs his blunts and joints very full because that mf's intent is to get hella stoned and sit back in bed watching a history documentary

-bossuet's choice of weapon: a pen, similarly to enjolras. he loves to get high with chetta and whereas chetta likes to smoke with pipes like jehan, bossuet likes a good ol' dab because it doesn't leave that heavy smell and tbfh he feels cool as hell blowing rings up towards the ceiling

-the rare stonies are marius and joly. neither of them smoke often for their own reasons but on the occasion they will light up with their friends

-marius's choice of weapon: courfeyrac's bong when it's clean. rooming with courf has gotten him used to being around weed but he grew up thinking it was evil and unheard of to smoke weed. then comes along m. "Legalize Weed" de courfeyrac and he finds himself hesitantly trying it out with him before clubbing. it was actually... nice. marius isn't used to smoking but when courfeyrac asks if he wants a hit, depending on the mood he's in and if he's doing anything later, marius will say yes

-joly's choice of weapon: bossuet's pen. he doesn't like smoking because being high heightens his anxiety instead of relaxing it and his brain goes haywire. plus, smoking makes his throat hurt and he feels overly aware of his lungs struggling for like a week after. dabs make him feel less pained by it, though, and on new year's maybe, joly will try it out. other than that, smoking isnt his thing

-the rat stonies. grantaire and bahorel, my beloveds. if courfeyrac was on this page, he would be a rat stonie too. these are the guys that kind of pass out around eight takeout containers of doner and thai food on the floor they ordered at 2am and wonder why they have no money bc they forgot they spent two hundred euro on takeout the night prior

-grantaire's choice of weapon: the american flag bong someone bought for him as a joke that hasn't been cleaned in 6 months. the white stripes have yellowed, the glass is practically opaque, and taking a hit out of it could potentially gift someone a respiratory disease. grantaire is in a state of "perpetually stoned out of his mind" and always has a thing of eye drops on him bc this mf is BLASTED 24/7. it's an issue

-bahorel's choice of weapon: edibles. this dude fucks shit UP in the kitchen. he sells edibles to people who hear about how good his recipes are and this dude chows down on some eddies and absolutely gets faded as hell. his most impressive feat was inviting like 20 people over that he knew because he had made a thc-laced pasta bake. it was absolutely delicious and fucked a ton of people up (including poor marius) because the taste of weed was rlly faint and the bake was DELISH. more often than not, he's got some edibles on him and he fucks himself up with them, waking up a mess on his living room floor not remembering what all he did the night before

-most compatible stoners (in my opinion)?: -enjolras, bossuet, marius, feuilly

-bahorel, grantaire, and courfeyrac

-combeferre, jehan, joly

#anyway #tw weed #tw drug use #les mis #les miserables #les amis de l'abc #les amis #feuilly #jehan prouvaire #jean prouvaire #jehan #bossuet #marius pontmercy #joly #grantaire #bahorel #les mis headcanons #modern les mis

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sukorakurai · 3 years

Photo

@snarkyship is a true genius. I commission this Stark Family Portrait and I couldn’t be happier. I wrote a little fic to accompany this fabulous Picture. hope you all enjoy.

Stark Family Picture Day

By Sukora Kurai

Tony sighed over the counter in the communal kitchen. He had been there since dawn when he asked Jarvis what day it was. Then his trusty AI informed him of an importance of this month. Now he was stuck with what to do now.

“Hey Tony what’s got you down?”

“Hey Capsicle, I’m doomed.”

“Oh come on Tony, it can’t be that bad you are an Avenger.” Steve smiled as he got out food to make omelets for the Team, and greeted the in coming members. “Morning Nat, morning Bruce.”

“Morning Steve, what’s wrong with Tony?” Bruce greeted heading to the stove to put the kettle on for his morning tea.

“Not sure I found him like this.” Steve stated cracking some eggs into a bowl.

“His and Loki’s anniversary is this month and he has no idea what to get him.” Nat answered pouring a large mug of coffee.

Tony shot up in his seat and stared slack jawed. “How could you possibly know that?”

“It’s my job as a shield Agent and Pepper’s PA to keep tabs on you. So it is well documented when you clumsily asked Loki to be your boyfriend during the Lord of the Rings Marathon where you bought out the AMC Theater for the day.” The Spy shrugged ignoring the fact that all her team mates stared at her in horror. All were now wondering what she had on them in those SHIELD files.

“So Tony, you have and anniversary coming up? Have you though about what Loki might like?” Steve coughed drawing the conversation back to the main topic.

“No, I don’t. What does one give a god especially one that has magic and can make anything appear out of thin air?” Tony waved his arms in frustration.

“That is a tough one but I’m sure anything you get him will be fine. Loki loves you Tony.” Bruce tried to be supportive.

“I hope you will be putting more thought into the gift you give me next month for our anniversary.” Nat gave the Gamma Doctor a pointed before wandering out of the room to start her routine before heading out to work.

“Ha, I’m not the only one in hot water now!” Tony crowed at the look of devastation in his science-bro’s face.

“Tony, knock it off. Now in my day it was the thought that counted most. You should find what Loki cherishes the most. You find that then you can present to him in a meaningful way. It’s true he’s a prince and probably has had his other lovers throw jewels and meaningless expensive trinkets at him to win his affections. You know Loki better because you love him and he loves you.” Steve pointed out.

“Yeah, Lokes complains a lot about his life in Asgard and that there were many who wooed him just to get to Thor. At night when it’s just the two of us and RC snuggled between us he sighs soft and says what a perfect night it is. He never elaborates but I think it means that he likes just the quiet nights with us.” The genius eyes went glazed as he recalled the many nights he cuddled with his god. Then the idea hit him. “Hey Spangles, can you paint or do you just draw?”

“Huh,” Steve was caught off guard and almost dropped the omelet he was flipping. “I paint from time to time.”

“Don’t lie babe you are in your studio whenever can get the chance.” Bucky laughed entering the kitchen. “All the paintings in our apartment Stevie did.”

“Great! Can you do a portrait if I get you a picture?” Tony asked digging in to the ham and cheese omelet.

“Yeah, it might take two weeks maybe less depends on if we get called out or if SHIELD needs me.” The captain estimated placing another plate in front of his boyfriend.

“As long as it’s done before the end of the month we’re good. Jarvis start looking through my photos and pull out any possible portraits.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Delicious breakfast as usual Capsicle. I’ll get you the photo as soon as I find one.” Tony dumped his empty plate in sink and ran off to his lab.

Two hours later…

“None of these are good enough J.”

“Sir, might I suggest you take a new photo of you and Prince Loki.”

“Yeah and RC too, because she’s our baby. We can’t have a Family Portrait without all the family members. Where’s are RC now?”

“She is currently with Alpine in his play room.”

“Cool, I think I got the perfect outfit in mind.” Tony grinned as he ran to his emergency closet in the lab. Tony had put in the closet when he realized he destroyed a lot of his clothes during his inventing and building phases. Also there was a suit or two for the days he forgot he was supposed to be in a meeting and had to make a rush to the board room.

In the penthouse…

It had been a quiet morning with no call outs, no calls to Asgard and no need to go anywhere. Loki decided to enjoy the peace and quite lounging in his soft Asgardian casual clothes on the couch reading his mother’s spell journal.

“Hey there, Bambi! It’s Picture Day!”

“Anthony, what are you on about?” The prince looked up from his book to see his lover carrying their cat into the living room.

“Well Picture Day refers to the day school kids take pictures for the yearbook and photos are bought for family distribution. Anyways I want to have a family picture that was honest. I never had that growing up because Howard was an asshole and Maria, my mother, was frail. She loved me but she couldn’t express it because she was always ill. Now we have our own little family and I want a picture to put in the lab.”

“You want to take this picture now? Anthony, I look a mess and how did you get the bow on the cat?”

“Aww, you look gorgeous, love, as always. Anyways, I put a bow on our baby because RC loves to look pretty for her daddies. Don’t you sweetie.” Tony scratched under the kitty’s chin as they sat on couch next to the god.

“Mew,” RC purred.

“Fine, you win, where would you like to take the picture? Also what are you wearing? I don’t believe I’ve seen that outfit before, and what is on your feet?” Loki set his book aside and took in his lover’s appearance.

“Oh you like? I dressed in red and gold to match my shoes. I had these shoes made based on my Iron Man suit. I thought maybe putting them on the market for kids but I liked them too much to share. So I have a life time supply in the lab. If you want I can have a pair made for you.”

“No thank you. They clash with my outfit. Now let’s take your picture.” Loki said taking the cat in his arms.

“Okay, okay. Let me get out my phone.” Tony fished his Stark Phone out of his back pocket and held it out to make them all fit in the frame. “Okay say cheese!”

“Click”

“Okay let’s see how that one turned out.” Tony looked at the photo to see him smiling a black blur and a bland look on Loki’s face. “Nope we got try again. This time smile Loki and RC you need to stay still so we can see you.”

And it went picture by picture they have yet to take a family portrait.

“Shit I only got half your face.”

“Anthony your thumb is on the lens.”

“RC Stay still!”

“Achoo! Ow! I dropped on my foot!”

“Do not eat my hair you Retched Creature!”

“Okay I set it up on a tripod. Now say cheese.”

“CHEESE BROTHER!” Thor popped up between the two men who stared at shock at the blond god.

“Next!” Tony rolled his eyes as Loki vanished his brother to where ever. Tony didn’t ask where the Loki sent Thunder god. He rather liked staying in the tower and wanted to keep it that way.

“Meow!”

“No RC! Don’t chase the bunny!”

Three Hours Later…

“Okay, this is it I can feel it. Now Jarvis is going to take the picture the bunnies are secure in their room. The penthouse is locked down, so no unexpected guest and RC is filled of milk to keep her calm and relaxed. And I promise after we get this picture I will have Jarvis order you favorite meal from the Thai Palace down the street and I’ll rub your feet, while we watch you favorite Harry Potter movies.”

“Oh Anthony you spoil me. I love you.” Loki sighed as a soft smile graced his face and he leaned into his lover as Tony joined their hands together. RC who was seated now on the god’s shoulder leaned in and purred soaking up the love of her people. The genius couldn’t be happier in that moment as he had his to precious family members with him and the grin on his face was wide and bright.

“Click.”

Two Weeks Later…

“Sir Prince Loki and Mr. Odinson have returned from Asgard.”

“Great, I got everything ready. Tell Loki that I have dinner ready and waiting.”

“Yes, sir.” Tony had the table set with Loki’s Favorite food from the five star steak house, they go to. He paid extra to have the chef come over and cook for their anniversary.

“Ding.”

“Thank you, Jarvis. Evening Anthony, never in my life had been so glad to leave Asgard. He talked for hours at the council over stagnant topics. What’s all this?”

“Well my hard working God of Mischief, today is our one year Anniversary and I have planned the perfect evening. Dinner, a bath and I installed a movie screen in our bathroom so we can enjoy the movie of your choice during the bath and then I plan on us making love until dawn.” Tony pulled Loki over to the dinner table, watching as the god’s magic removed the armor and replaced it with comfortable Asgardian wear.

“You lovely little man, you spoil me so; I don’t deserve it or you.” The Raven pulled the billionaire into his arms and planting kisses all over the man’s face.

“Yes you do, because I love you and I got you something, well I got Cap to make it, but it was my idea.”

“You didn’t have to, dinner is more than enough.”

“No, I wanted to. Now close your eyes and I’ll get your present.” As Loki closed his eyes Tony ran out of the room and grabbed the portrait from where he hid it. He placed it on the wall then Jarvis turned on the lights illuminating the painting. “Okay open them.”

“Oh Anthony! It’s wonderful.” Loki’s eyes became all misty seeing their little family together and there was so much love radiating from painting. “It’s perfect.”

“Happy Anniversary Reindeer Games.”

“Happy Anniversary, my Man of Iron.” Loki whispered pulling Tony in to the sweetest kiss they ever shared. They didn’t hear the click sound of Jarvis capturing the moment with the sunset background. Another memory to save for another day.

The End.

#fanart #fiction from fanart #iron frost #frostiron #ironfrost #Iron Man #tony x loki #loki x tony #loki #random black cat #tony stark #Avengers #Marvel MCU #Family Portrait

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kookiebunnii · 4 years

Text

lucky in love || min yoongi

→ summary: you didn’t expect to start your day with an arrow to the heart, quite literally, but neither did you expect to meet cupid himself. quickly realizing that you aren’t dramatically falling in love from the effects of cupid’s arrow, the two of you unexpectedly team up to solve this curious dilemma. however, at the end of it all, what if cupid is the one falling in love?

→ pairing: cupid!yoongi x reader

→ genre: roman/greek mythology au, fluff

→ word count: 6.6k

→ warnings: mature language

→ a/n: this is sort of a half-gift to myself and @cinnaminsvga, the author who actually inspired me to write again. i just hit 200 followers, and i guess i also wanted zee to know that her works definitely motivate and inspire others!

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Sitting in your armchair, embroidering little white carnations into the hem of the wedding dress in your hands, you truly thought that you couldn’t be any more content. This particular order had recently prompted the idea of “love” into your mind whenever you worked, as your customer had practically beamed with excitement when talking about her fiancée. Although your family and friends seemingly had your relationship status on the forefront of their minds, it wasn’t something you chose to fret about. You’d had your fair share of boyfriends, men you enjoyed spending time with and even one you thought about a “happily ever after” with. But of course, your career and independent personality typically got in the way.

It had led to heartaches and internal turmoil early on in your life, but now you were a freelancer, a fashion designer making clothes from your apartment. It wasn’t the most luxurious life imaginable, but it was the life you wanted. You were able to do what you loved while helping others. Romantic love just wasn’t on this week’s to-do list...orders were.

You set the piece down and slowly rotate your wrists to chase the stiffness away from your joints. Taking a sip of your chamomile tea, you watch as the horizon outside your window lights the buildings aglow with an orange and pink hue. The colors are beautiful, and you’re briefly inspired. Heading to your workbench in the room next to you, you grab your pocket notebook and scribble down the colors you see outside. You always wrote little notes in this particular journal, hoping to use it for your own creative works someday if not for a future customer’s order. Examining the words “pink, orange, yellow blending” in your casual scrawl, you flip to previous pages to reread your past bouts of inspiration.

You sigh, knowing that this wedding dress was your last big order for the month. Perhaps you now have enough time and funds saved up to work on something for yourself next week.

Your discarded cell phone on the couch begins beeping incessantly, so you set your notebook back down and skirt over to check what it’s for. You make a small sound of happiness, remembering that you had ordered Thai food for dinner tonight. Taking off your work apron and hanging it on a hook in your office, you find the warmest coat you own before rushing out the door.

Weather these days is like a finicky child who can’t make up his mind. In the daylight you’d have to pull on a t-shirt and a long skirt to fully appreciate the rare breezes that danced through the open windows. However, after sunset, temperatures could drop quite steeply. You’re reminded of this again when you’re forced to tuck your hands into your pockets and tell yourself to hurry.

The street is lit with soft lamplight and despite the cold and hunger resting in your belly, the artist in you can’t help but appreciate how beautiful this sight is as well. Round circles of yellow going from intense to faded against a midnight blue backdrop fill your thoughts. It’s so distracting that you almost walk past your destination without realizing.

Quickly backpedaling a few steps, you head into Thai Us Together—you must give the owners credit for their pun-tastic name—and greet the familiar worker at the front desk. She engages you in some polite conversation before handing you your usual order and bidding you goodbye.

It’s only when you are a few steps away from the entrance to your apartment complex that you are hit in the chest by an arrow.

You realize this not because you feel any sort of pain from the attack, but because a translucent arrow radiating a pinkish glow is now visibly protruding from your front. Firmly planted above your ribs, you’re momentarily at a loss. Perhaps any normal person would be screaming in terror, but you just stare, wide-eyed, wondering if you were dreaming. Things never got this crazy in your dreams though.

“Why isn’t it working?”

You blink and suddenly there’s a dark-haired, pale-faced man in front of you. He doesn’t look much older than you, as he stands in front of you with his arms crossed. Frowning in discontent, he stares in the direction of your chest unabashedly and you feel that you have the right to be more than a little offended.

“Um, hello? My eyes are up here.”

When his eyes finally find yours, they’re filled with shock with a little bit of fear mixed in. You almost wonder if you’d grown a second head or something, with the way he was staring at you.

“You can see me?” he asks, pointing at himself as you roll your eyes in response.

“Who else is staring at my chest around here? Yes, you.”

The boy starts laughing, his gums showing cutely in response to your curt reply. You can feel your cheeks warming as you wonder whether your statement deserved to be received with this much amusement.

“You’re a funny one,” he finally notes, before a worried expression takes over his features again, “But you’re human aren’t you? You shouldn’t be able to see me.”

You adjust your takeout in your hands before resting a hand on your hip, “Well, I see you very clearly. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have pad thai to enjoy and an arrow to the heart to deal with.”

He grabs your arm, and the touch is so palpable that you know now that you’re definitely not dreaming. You turn to meet the stranger’s gaze again, and the curiosity filling his brown eyes is undeniable.

“You see the arrow too?” he whispers in awe, gesturing to the faint but very noticeable projectile still lodged in your front.

Sighing, you say, “Okay at least I’m not hallucinating this then. Look, I need to try and get this thing out and get to my dinner. If you don’t have any suggestions on how to remove arrows that don’t even feel like they’re actually there, then I suggest you head home.”

He follows you through the gate, matching your hurried steps with ease until you finally snap and turn on him. He almost bumps into you as a result of your sudden halt but quickly readjusts himself and looks at you with an unreadable expression.

After a short glaring contest, he gives you a small smile with a glint in his eye, “I know exactly how to get that out. In fact, I was the one who shot it.”

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Maybe all these years of living alone has finally dulled your warning senses to the point where you were fine letting dangerous strangers into your home. You’d always been too trusting of a person, but you felt too tired and confused to put up much of a fight tonight anyways. You just wanted to enjoy one of your favorite noodle dishes and get rid of whatever black magic was involved in this painless arrow buried inside you. If it meant inviting a random puzzling but handsome individual into your abode, then so be it.

As you dig into your meal, you watch as your guest sips on his glass of water. He had denied your offer of food, but you could at least say you were a polite host. With your stomach now appeased, you take your own gulp of water before launching into an interrogation.

“Who are you?” you ask.

He tilts his head, observing you for what feels like the seventh time that day. Finally, he leans back in his seat in thought. The silence permeates your residence for a good minute before he finally utters, “I’m Cupid, God of desire, attraction, and affection.”

You stop mid-chew to openly gawk at the black-haired male in front of you. This boy, dressed in a large hoodie and ripped jeans, is supposed to be the fat baby featured on Valentine’s Day cards? Maybe you brought a crackhead into your home.

“I know what you’re thinking. You mortals have ruined my image recently and as a result I am no longer receiving the respect I deserve,” he purses his lips before setting his water glass aside and openly observing you again, “But I am in fact Cupid.

“Okay let’s say you are Cupid or whatever and you shot me. Doesn’t this mean I’m supposed to fall in love now or something? I don’t feel anything other than a desire to finish the rest of this delicious pad thai.”

He doesn’t even smile at your attempt at lighthearted humor, instead wrinkling his brow further at your words.

“That is rather curious.”

Fiddling with a stray bean sprout on your plate, you add, “Well, could we start with removing this first?”

He finally gives you an amused grin when you gesture to the faint outline of an arrow above your ribs, which appears to be growing increasingly hard to see as time passes. Maybe you are finally going off the deep end.

“It’ll disappear soon,” and as soon as the words leave his lips, the arrow has faded entirely. He turns slightly, and a quiver suddenly appears on his back. You count 11 arrows before another slowly fills the remaining empty spot to complete the final dozen.

Your jaw is practically on the floor at this display.

“I need to figure out why this is happening,” he muses, resting his chin on his hand and training his unwavering gaze on you once again.

Jeez, you were starting to feel like an exhibit at the zoo.

“Look, as much as I appreciate meeting a god, I have work to do and a deadline to meet. I’m sure this is very fascinating, but frankly I’d rather not fall in love anyways so I’m quite glad this didn’t work,” you stand up to set your cleared dish in the sink before heading for the door to escort him out.

“Why not?” he asks, as if he couldn’t imagine why anyone would ever not want to be in love.

You turn after undoing the lock at your door to find that he still hasn’t budged from his chair. Clearly not on the same page as you are, you saunter over to him and do your best to give him a menacing look, “I’m happy the way I am. Now are you leaving?”

You definitely weren’t usually this rude, but the amalgamation of your anxiety to get back to work and the confusion of trying to understand what was happening to you made for a deadly combo. Today’s events were definitely giving you a short fuse. If this offends him, Cupid sure doesn’t show it, because he just gives you a small tilt of his lips before heading to your kitchen to wash his empty cup.

You watch, mystified, as he sets his cup on the drying rack before washing the plate you had left in the sink earlier. At this point you rush forward, embarrassed, but he simply shakes the excess water off the plate before leaving it next to his discarded cup. You thought Cupid was supposed to be mischievous, and maybe this guy was, but he was definitely going out of his way to be nice to you.

“Thanks” you mumble halfheartedly, suddenly feeling a bit regretful that you were trying your damnedest to shoo him out earlier.

He chuckles, drying his hands on your teacloth hanging nearby before asking, “Can I ask you some questions?”

Deciding that no ill-natured person would go through the trouble of washing your dishes before murdering you, you lead him to your living room where you were previously working on embroidery. The wedding dress is still resting on the arm of the chair you previously occupied, so you briefly excuse yourself to move the large piece back to your workspace.

When you come back, he seems to be running his tongue against the inside of his cheek in thought. It distracts you for a bit until he finally asks, “Are you getting married?”

Sputtering with a bright fuchsia across your cheekbones, you quickly reply, “No! No, it’s an order for a customer. I’m a designer.”

He sighs in relief, “Thank Zeus, I honestly thought I had lost all of my powers including my sense. Maybe it’s just my arrows that are faulty.”

When he notices how you’re looking at him quizzically, he kindly explains, “Usually, getting hit with my arrow means you fall in love with the person I’ve assigned. For some reason that clearly hasn’t happened for you. Besides, you’re definitely not supposed to see me or my arrows unless I will it to happen.”

You frown, worrying your bottom lip between your teeth as you think. If this dark-haired boy is to be trusted, was there actually something wrong with you? Additionally, who had he chosen for you? Maybe if it was meant to be and all that jazz, you could just have Cupid introduce the two of you and he can be on his way. That’d be much simpler than trying to wrap your head around the idea that Roman Gods existed.

“Who’s the person?”

He smirks, appearing to be amused at your shy remark, “Mortals are simple creatures. It matters more whether your significant other is as good-looking as you imagined than the possibility that something is very wrong with you.”

“Hey, I didn’t say that. Besides, you could just wingman me with the guy you picked and then go back to shooting people for fun. You’re acting like the end of the world is coming.”

Lounging on your couch, he grabs one of the decorative pillows next to him and begins playing with the loose strands like an easily entertained cat. You sit down next to him, grabbing the other cushion to hold in your arms for security while he exhales in disappointment.

“It’s not that easy. This isn’t something that’s supposed to happen,” he admits, tossing the pillow aside and training his eyes on you.

“Well, you could always ask one of your fellow gods, right? Isn’t your mom Venus or something? I’m sure she has plenty of experience in the love department,” you suggest, wondering if you were being too gullible by accepting and participating in his fantastical stories.

He scoffs, “If she knew about you, she’d just tell me to kill you.”

“Okay so we won’t be asking her for help under any circumstances. Got it.”

He laughs again, and you can’t help but crack a smile of your own. Maybe in another world, if he just happened to be a random boy you bumped into one day, you’d actually want to be friends with him. But in your reality, he was supposed to be a god. If your lessons in Roman mythology meant anything, humans should probably fear those like him instead of inviting them into their one-bedroom apartments.

“You’re probably one of the more amusing mortals I’ve met recently,” he grins, “Do you still want to know who I chose for you?”

Heart racing, it was as if you could feel your pulse thrumming in anticipation. Wasn’t this what every person wanted? To know who they would end up with, to know who they were supposed to love until their last breath? Even if you were a self-declared non-romantic, the idea was still interesting. Its appeal was still undeniable, even if it wasn’t a priority for you.

But then you hesitated, wondering if it was beneficial for you to even know this. Did you like the idea of this cheeky boy just randomly selecting a guy for you? Maybe free will was just an illusion, but how would you even go about your life if you knew that you were supposed to be with someone—no alternatives? That kind of pressure just didn’t float your boat at all.

“Never mind actually. It’s probably better if you don’t tell me.”

This statement surprises him, because he actually leans forward to rest his palm against your forehead with a concerned expression on his features. Up close, you can see the pretty faint freckles across the bridge of his nose and the small speckles of gold in his irises. No, this boy is definitely not human.

“What happened to Y/N?” he jokes, laughing when you brush his hand away to look at him with a frown.

“Look, it doesn’t mean I’m not curious. Besides, now I can pick who I want to be with without your ministrations being a part of it,” you huff, crossing your arms.

Smirking, you can see the mischievousness lighting up his eyes at your words, “And how will you know that the man you’ve ‘picked’ isn’t just someone else I’ve chosen to hit you through the heart with?”

You don’t respond at his teasing question which causes your guest to lean back once again with satisfaction. If he really was the omnipotent entity he claimed to be, you guess you wouldn’t really know if you liked someone out of your own volition. At least you could now pin the blame of being with some of your past exes as a result of Cupid’s interference and not your lack of good judgment.

“I’m going to have to monitor you for a few days. I’ll head back to Olympus every once in a while, seeing if I can find any answers for this oddity. If anything strange happens, just call for me.”

You pull out your cell on instinct, and he laughs while taking the device and slipping it back into your pocket. Instead, he takes your hands in his and intertwines your fingers together as if you were praying.

“You want me to pray to you and you’ll just show up?” you ask incredulously, trying hard to ignore the way you could feel the blood rushing to your head at his warm touch against the backs of your hands.

He nods, “It’s how it used to be, back when you all believed in us. I’ll be off now. See you tomorrow.”

One second, he’s there and the next he’s not. Standing awkwardly in the middle of your living room, fingers interlocked, you could genuinely convince yourself that you had just had an extremely hyper realistic dream. Unfortunately, the lingering heat of his hold on you remains undeniable.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Enjoying the tart taste spreading across your tongue from your homemade lemon tea, you set your glass down before admiring the semi-finished piece in front of you. You had set the wedding dress onto a mannequin in your studio after completing the final details to better observe the overall look. You need to pull in the waist a bit more and fix the neckline, so you step forward to remove the dress and get to work again.

“It looks nice.”

The sudden words cause you to almost trip over your own feet and you have no choice but to grab your mannequin for balance. Cupid chuckles from behind you, and you glance at him wide-eyed long enough to catch what look like wings folding behind his back before they disappear.

“Hello,” you squeak, surprised at his random entrance after leaving you alone for two days.

“You’re quite talented for someone who designs and makes the pieces herself,” he muses, stepping closer to you to catch the fabric of the lace sleeve in his fingertips.

“It’s nothing really. I’m just a decent option for someone looking for something original and unique, I suppose.”

He tilts your chin up to look at him and the motion sends an entire series of shockwaves through your system. No one had been this close to you in a long time, so maybe you were just reacting because of the unfamiliarity.

Yeah, that’s probably what it was.

Cupid hesitates, as if he had lost his train of thought, before quickly recovering, “Give yourself more credit, love.”

Pulling away from you, he leans back against your workbench with his hands in the pocket of his hoodie. Shaking the bangs away from his eyes, he says, “Do you feel any different?”

“No. I had half the mind that I just dreamt the whole thing,” you reply, finally letting go of the mannequin and stepping towards your desk to find some thread and a sewing needle.

He hums in thought, watching your movements as he says, “I haven’t had much luck either. I went to Vulcan, asked him if he could look at my arrows. He said they were in good working order but replaced a few of them anyways at my request.”

“Vulcan? Is that Hephaestus’s Roman name?”

“Yes, I wonder why Greek names are more familiar to you. Perhaps schooling is different nowadays,” he comments, watching as you take a seat across from him and begin making your adjustments.

“If it’s any consolation, they do look shinier than before,” you tease, pointing at the quiver appearing on his back.

He gives you an amused chuckle, pulling out one of the arrows to examine it from its point to the sleek feathers at its very end. When it finally disappears from his hands to return to its home on his back, he quips, “Are you sure you’re not a demigod?”

The question catches you off guard for sure, but you decide to play his game anyways, and think back to your parents. Did they ever do anything that seemed…otherworldly? Did they seem like the type of people to run off and have a tryst with some Olympian god or goddess?

Haha, definitely not.

You shake your head, giggling at the possibility since you knew your parents very well. He takes your answer with a nod and continues looking out towards the large window at the scene outside. The sky is a pale blue today with fluffy white clouds gliding by with ease. You were almost done with this order, and you planned to ship it to your customer this weekend. Maybe you’d enjoy a picnic outside to celebrate afterwards.

“Do you…have another name that you use? Calling you Cupid just seems weird. I still can’t get the name to disassociate from the image of a chubby winged baby in my head.”

He takes your question seriously, a trait you notice by the way he’s seemingly lost in thought. You wait patiently though, continuing to work on your methodical stiches as he ponders.

“Yoongi,” he finally says, appearing satisfied.

“Yoongi? That’s an interesting choice,” you reply, feeling the way this new name rolled off your tongue.

“It was the name of a mortal I knew. I quite like it.”

You accept his choice, finishing your alteration on the neckline and deciding to call it a day. You’ll spend the next few days attaching the sequins, which was bound to be an exhausting task. Just as you’re about to set the dress back on your trusty mannequin, the sound of glass breaking causes you to scream.

A creature seemingly out of your worst nightmares crawls through the windowpane, flames of fire spilling from its mouth. You can’t help but cling onto the back of Yoongi’s sweatshirt once he backs up against you in a defensive stance. The monster looks like a lion from the front, but you notice what appears to be a snake lazily dancing back and forth from where its tail ought to be. Oh, and was that the head of a goat sticking out from its back?

You never thought about how you would die, but this sure wasn’t at the top of your list.

“Fuck, why is this here?” Yoongi growls, and the deep sound that resonates from his chest makes you tighten your fingers on him.

“What is it?” you ask, but the way your voice is compressed in fear barely lets the words escape from your lips. It seems to ignore Cupid altogether, the blazing coals it calls eyes refusing to look away from your fearful expression.

He ignores your question, instead sweeping you off your feet and uttering, “Hold on tight” before skirting around the edge of the room with the creature hot on his heels. You don’t need to be told twice, immediately ducking your head into his shoulder, trying your best to ignore the way the beast sounded dangerously close. When you finally dare to open your eyes, Yoongi has ducked through the gaping hole where your window once was with his hand on the back of your head. He looks down at you briefly before jumping off the ledge.

Your scream sticks in your throat, as you feel the pit of your stomach fall alongside your body. A second later however, the two of you are gliding upwards as if flying. The buildings are a blur with how fast you are going, so you opt to just close your eyes and keep a locked grip on your savior. Even though you had no clue where you were being taken, you sure as hell weren’t about to return to your apartment even if it hadn’t turned into a pile of ashes by now.

When Yoongi finally stops, it feels like an eternity has passed, and your head is so dizzy that you’re forced to lean against a tree for support. As you try to keep the contents of your stomach from making an appearance, you make out the blurry form of your new friend pacing back and forth with his hair a mess. He is very clearly stressed, so you shift to grip the side of his pant leg when he paces closer to you.

“We’re fine now,” you mumble, tugging him closer. You hope he sits down so you could lean your head on his shoulder. It was starting to get chilly and you want to get ahold of whatever warmth was currently available.

Perhaps he can read your mind too because he kneels in the grass in front of you and fixes the locks of hair plastered to your clammy skin. He doesn’t seem the least bit grossed out, instead having what looks like worry in those odd eyes of his.

“I can’t believe you’re reassuring me when I’m pretty sure you would’ve died if I weren’t there.”

The words bring you back to reality as you shudder uncontrollably. You definitely would’ve died. That thing looked like it could rip you in two if it truly wanted to, and you weren’t exactly skilled in self-defense. Maybe you were too dumb to realize the danger of the current situation, but you were more concerned by the fact that Yoongi looked deathly afraid.

“Was that something from…your world?” you ask, grateful for the gentle grasp Yoongi had on your wrists. It comforted you knowing that you weren’t alone in this chaos.

“That was a chimera. Our worlds are essentially one and the same, but yes, creatures like that usually don’t just stop by for a house party,” he grunts, shifting so he can sit in front of you with his legs splayed to corner you against the tree.

You still have your legs pulled against your chest, so you lean your cheek against your knees as you regard him intently. He didn’t look anything like a god, and if you saw Yoongi walking on the street you probably wouldn’t have given him a second look. This whole ordeal balanced on the edge of surreal, but you were sure now that with whatever just happened, you were in danger. You wish the arrow worked on you earlier. You would’ve fell in love with some random person but at least you wouldn’t be fearing for your life. Maybe you wouldn’t have met the living embodiment of attraction, but you would��ve been back to normalcy. Isn’t that well worth it?

Struggling to understand why your heart hesitated at the possibility of never meeting Yoongi, you’re barely aware that he is pulling you to your feet until he has an arm wrapped around your waist to support your weak form.

“Can you stand?” he asks, and his fingers feel like they are burning against your side. Even through your sweater, you clearly feel each indent against your skin.

“Yeah, I’m good,” you give him your best attempt at a smile, following him as he walks you further into the forest. Thankfully, he eventually lets you go when he’s assured that you can walk without passing out. His proximity was doing crazy things to your senses, so you are grateful that he let you process your experiences without distraction.

He’s led you to an inconspicuous cave whose entrance is covered by a few hanging willow branches. He brushes these aside before letting you crawl in. The inside is surprisingly dry and you finally take a seat on a smooth, protruding boulder in the corner to stretch your legs out from the trek.

“It’s not a 5-star hotel, but it should do for now. You’ll be safe here until I find out what’s going in,” he says, and in the darkness you can barely make out his form in front of you.

Snapping his fingers, a fire appears in front of you. As you realize that this fire appears to be without a fuel source, you are once again forced to accept that your life is never going to be the same. Hesitantly reaching out to warm your shaking fingers against the heat, you watch as the light of the flickering flames dance across Yoongi’s face. He looks worried and concerned for you, so you can’t help but look away.

Your hands itch for your notebook, but you simply make a mental note to yourself instead: fire and shadows, a golden-eyed boy, warmth.

At this point, he takes off his hoodie and you can’t help the way your eyes immediately dart to the sliver of skin that shows at his waist when his t-shirt rises alongside his movements. When Yoongi finally emerges, a hand running through his locks, you hope that the heat you’re feeling is only from the fire.

He wraps the garment around your shoulders before tying the sleeves around your arms without a word. Taking one last look at you, he lets his touch linger for a second too long against your thigh before he stands to take his leave. This time, you keep your eyes trained on his as he begins to slowly dissipate. You tell yourself that you won’t blink because as long as you’re looking, he can’t leave. Your weary gaze finally betrays you, and when you open your eyes, he’s gone.

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

Turns out you wouldn’t have to worry about food, because every couple of hours, you’d magically find some food appearing by the fire Yoongi had made for you. Your phone had long since died, so you weren’t even sure what day it was. Using the appearance of the regular meals to gage the passing of time, you hoped that Cupid would come back for you soon. Your customer’s order would be due soon anyways. At this, you couldn’t help but giggle when you realized how much your commitments meant to you-- even if you were on the verge of getting eaten by a lion hybrid.

It appears that Yoongi had been more observant that you gave him credit for. Every meal, he has only given you pad thai with the ingredients you ordered the night you met him. It was cute how he went with something he knew you liked, likely worried that he could choose something you were allergic to or disliked. He did alternate between cool lemon tea in the mornings and warm chamomile tea in the evenings, but you are sure you won’t be ordering thai food for a long time after you get out of here.

Just as you finish the last of your tea while pondering actually praying to him to get him to show up, Yoongi appears before you. Without a second thought, you scramble up to give him a hug. It seems that even for a god, he doesn’t expect this. Your tackle causes him to briefly lose his balance.

“Easy there,” he laughs, his deep voice mixing beautifully with his laughter as it echoes against his chest.

“Sorry,” you fumble, pulling away quickly and wondering if mortals were allowed to be hugging Roman Gods.

“Have you been alright?” he asks, ruffling your hair fondly with a smile.

You hum in agreement, relishing the way his fingers felt tugging against your locks, “Might need to take a break from pad thai for a while though.”

Chuckling, he extinguishes the fire with a wave of his hand before tugging you out of the cave. The sudden sunlight causes you cover your eyes, gripping his sleeve instead to guide you as you walk. Instead, he carries you in his arms once again before flying off to god-knows-where. At this point, you simply submit in his hold, as you trust him enough as the only person who knew better than you did at the moment.

You’re pleasantly surprised to find that he has brought you to your apartment, and even more pleased to find that your window has been returned to its original state. In fact, everything inside remains perfectly undisturbed.

“How’d we get in if the window is fixed?” you ask, pressing your fingertips against the glass to ensure that it was indeed repaired.

“I stopped by before the chimera appeared without having to bust your windows open, if you remember,” he teases, pulling the curtains aside to let in some light.

“Fair enough.”

You immediately head inside to ensure that the wedding dress was still in your office. You let a relieved sigh escape your lips when you notice it resting happily on your mannequin in the corner, looking as perfect as before.

“Y/N, we need to talk about something,” Yoongi says, pulling out a chair and straddling it as he watches you work with the bag of sequins you prepared earlier for this project.

“What’s up?” you ask, already getting back to work by sewing each individual sparkle into the layers of fabric.

“The chimera from earlier, it was sent by someone.”

His words cause your hand to falter, but you remind yourself that you have to make up for lost time, so you continue working furiously.

“Who have I angered?” you ask, trying to keep the concern out of your tone.

Cupid sighs, and when he finally replies, you’re forced to drop the dress entirely.

“Venus? So, she found out about me?” you bite your lip to stop it from trembling under this revelation.

He grips your hands in his own now that yours are no longer busy with working. The emotions swirling in his gaze allows the weird feelings to return to your heart once again. When he makes a request of you, you can’t help but take notice of the way he’s practically begging.

“Y/N, please let me protect you. I can take you somewhere she’ll never find you. We can be together, and you’ll be safe for the rest of your life. I promise.”

Of course, the offer is tempting. You aren’t sure if it’s the confusing feelings you’re beginning to develop for him or if he’s working some sort of love magic on you, but you actually consider his proposition for a good second or two. But eventually, the dazzle of the pearl white dress on your workbench breaks you out of your reverie. Did you want to spend the rest of your life in hiding? Would you still be able to do what you loved? Would you still be able to see your family and friends?

“I can’t,” you reply, giving him a sad smile and a small squeeze with your hands. You can’t accept the hurt on his face, so you go back to work so you can focus on the shiny beads on the waistline of the dress instead.

“I can’t let you die.”

His voice sounds so broken, so lost, so defeated that you almost didn’t recognize its owner. Brushing aside the wetness suddenly flowing across your cheeks as a result of his words and your own fear, you try your best not to let your tears fall onto your customer’s order.

“Y/N please. Look at me?” Yoongi begs, and when you risk a look at him, the tear clinging to edge of his waterline finally rolls down his cheek.

When you realize you’re kissing him, the first thought that manages to form is that his lips are so soft. It’s like you pressed your mouth against a carefree cloud, or some bright pink cotton candy based on the gentle sweetness that slowly begins spreading throughout your body. His cheeks are damp, and you can’t help but whisper “please, don’t cry” against his lips. His laugh mixes with a sob, as he tightens his grip on your waist.

You pull back, and for a second you forget that the man before you is an all-powerful god. As he sits in front of you, brushing your tears away with the pads of his thumbs, he is simply a soft-hearted boy crying over imagining a tomorrow without you. You wonder momentarily if it were possible for him to fall in love, because you were already beginning to feel the rush of falling.

“Am I crazy for liking you?” he chuckles, staring up at the ceiling as if the answer were written there, “I make others fall in love for the shits and giggles, and now I’m the butt of the joke.”

“How did I attract a god?” you muse, pinching his cheeks for your own personal enjoyment.

Yoongi falls back into his thoughts again, and you once again wait patiently for him to form his words. You were willing to wait, because you knew that when he finally spoke, it meant that he had truly considered each and every word he uttered.

“You’re witty. You love to crack jokes, especially when the situation turns awkward. It’s endearing, so much so that I just want to kiss the satisfied grin off your mouth. You’re hardworking and talented, placing the needs of others before your own. You commit yourself to your job, creating art as if it’s second nature. Even after your life gets hit with a whole shitstorm, you work on a wedding dress someone else ordered and tell me not to cry.”

A laugh escapes you as a desperate attempt to cover the fact that you’re certain you are as red as a cherry tomato and that you have the sudden urge to kiss Yoongi again.

The two of you decide to enjoy the simple happiness you feel with your newfound feelings for as long as you can without discussing Venus again. Once again, you find yourself working on the silky fabric of a bride-to-be’s wedding dress in your armchair in the living room. Except this time, Cupid has his arms wrapped around you as you sit in his lap. The two of you watch the sunset together after you decide to take a break, and he massages your wrists for you.

“I don’t want to hide, Yoongi.”

He makes a small noise acknowledging your words, seemingly more invested in nuzzling the exposed skin at the crook of your neck. You pinch his thigh to get his attention before continuing, “I can’t live like that. I’d rather die doing what I loved and enjoying every moment than being locked away somewhere—even if I were with you. Does that make sense?”

“Of course, my stubborn Y/N. I’ll do my best to keep you safe from her nevertheless.”

Raising an eyebrow, you shift in your seat so you can finally look at your brown-haired boy with surprise. You almost regret this decision, because the amount of adoration pouring from the personification of affection himself is almost too much for your mortal self to handle.

“I’m your Y/N now?”

He chuckles, smoothing out your furrowed brow with the tips of his fingers, each stroke leaving a lingering trail of warmth against your skin.

“Are you forgetting the vow I just gave you? A god just promised to protect you, mortal. Have some decorum.”

You frown, feeling too foolishly emboldened to be stopped now.

“Yeah well the witty, hardworking, and talented mortal just asked you a question,” you say smartly, playing with the strands of hair at the edge of his ear.

The golden stars in Yoongi’s eyes seem to shine brighter than before as he says, “For as long as you’ll have me. I’ll love you.”

♡

275 notes · View notes

sakurology · 4 years

Text

Brainrot Kinktober 10/29

treat like gold

Lingerie: Alisa Haiba x Fem!Reader

Warnings: not a lot ??? I don’t think? Light voyeurism, light exhibitionism, Dom!Alisa a little bit, never thought I’d write scissoring but that’s in there, fingering, some bad words, ummmmmm yeah I think that’s it? Just wanna be topped by the woman of my dreams

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: lmfao I found out Alisa is an Aries and chaos ensued I’m so sorry 👀 also ty @whet-ones-write for being my lovely beta reader bc sometimes we can’t all die like men also kiska is just a Russian pet name, it’s the equivalent to “kitten” in English!

Brainrot Kinktober Mlist

Red has always been her color. No matter what she wore, no matter how many runways she walked, no matter how many campaigns she had booked- she always stood out the most in red. It was her lucky color, and her lucky red pumps that got her the deal with the biggest up and coming intimates brand, TLG Lingerie.

Red was her lucky color, and the bane of your existence.

Being friends and living with a model obviously had its perks- her agency pays your rent; and you live in a fucking penthouse for starters. You get to go to a ton of industry parties, and of course, getting to see your amazing best friend live her dreams and cheer her on felt good. But you’d be a liar if you didn’t admit that it was also self-indulgent of you to be her assistant- you were the one that told her agency to send her on the TLG go-see… you’re the one who suggested the stylist change her from the white piece to the red one… you are the reason that those test shots of her in a fiery red bra, stocking, and garter set are sitting on your kitchen table right now- and let’s not even get started on the red marabou babydoll that you insisted she wear. You did this to yourself.

Fucking masochist. Now look at you. You’re a mess.

Your fingers were knuckle deep in your own wetness, your free hand aggressively kneading your breast as you rutted your hips against your hand, softly reciting her name as your face twisted in a torturous buildup. There was no way to prepare for the way the door flung open…. you hadn’t even heard her come into the penthouse.

“Hey, Y/N I was going to order Thai for din- OH!”

Your motions ceased, the feeling of your orgasm was instead replaced by a burning heat and anxious nausea as your eyes met Alisa’s in the doorway. Neither of you could move or speak- it felt like life was moving in slow motion.

“I didn’t know you were busy, I'm sorry,” Alisa spoke.

Her eyes were unmoving, not only looking at you but through you. Her breathing wavered as she bent over to pick up the discarded takeout menu. You finally regained enough composure to cover yourself- still dazed and utterly mortified.

“I didn’t know I had that effect on you.”

You wanted to feign ignorance, hell, you wanted to die- but in this moment playing dumb was the only thing you could do- until she picked up the still you had casually slipped into your pocket when she originally had the TLG shoot.

“You know, you could’ve just asked for a still,” she lamented, starting to make her way over to you. While your eyes widened with fear, her’s awakened with intrigue. She sat at the corner of the living room sectional tracing the corners of the photograph with her fingertips, eyes fluttering back and forth between it and you.

Finally settling her gaze, Alisa laid back, settling into your mattress with a sigh. Your body tensed as she stared- her eyes have always been her sharpest feature against her delicate appearance.

“Go ahead,” she goaded. “Finish what you started.”

It was a pointed command. Biting her lip, she pulled away the throw blankets that you had been so desperately clutching, cool air hitting your skin as you let out a shaky exhale. You stomach twisted ín self- consciousness, but you couldn’t stop either- an unexplainable tether pulled you. Readjusting yourself on the couch, you rested your back flush against the supportive cushion, spreading more to give her a full show of your puffy, slick-coated lips and inner thighs. She flopped onto her stomach, peering up at you from the foot of the couch intently.

“I- I-...” Finally, you were able to utter a syllable. It wasn’t of much use.

“You what?” She teased tilting her head curiously and almost in an innocent fashion. “You weren’t this stiff a minute ago~”

Your cheeks were hot, but your core was even hotter. Slowly, you slid a finger across your clit, jerking at the contact while she watched. As you rubbed some more tiny circles, one by one the soft whimpers from before started to fill the room yet again. You and Alisa kept eyes locked on each other as you curled in one of your fingers, then another, the open mouthed ‘o’ spreading across your face as her eyes darkened even more. She was beautiful- but sinister in her line of questioning.

“Does it feel good?”

You nodded.

“Do you do this often? Do you play with yourself and wish it were me?”

You fixed your lips to say no but nothing came out as you saw her begin to unbutton her blouse. It would’ve been a lie anyway. You’ve wanted her for as long as you’ve been friends. You’ve wanted her ever since you met.

“You shouldn’t be using photos of me if you have the real thing,” the fabric flowed off of her body to reveal the bra from the photographs- the fiery red lace and golden ‘TLG’ hook in the middle. Alisa began to crawl toward you, stopping just short of your feet to shimmy her way out of the pencil skirt she had been wearing for all of her go-sees that day. The matching red thong came into view, the full effect of the photos paling in comparison to the actual sight in front of you.

“Especially not when you can have the real thing anytime you want.”

By now her face was so close to yours that her breath tickled you. You had unconsciously sped up the motions of your fingers, a third falling in line with the others and pistoning itself in and out of your pussy. Alisa cooed and mewled, nodding at you with sweet praises falling from her lips. Taking your free hand, she guided you to her own chest, hands just grazing her barely covered tits- then to her lips, pulling two of your fingers into her mouth. As your jaw was hanging open, all you could do was manage a half sob from the back of your throat. The dizzying feeling of what was happening combining with the lightheadedness you were already feeling begin to well up inside of you.

There was a moment of stillness from you as Alisa leaned down to eye your glistening heat. Your breath hitched in the back of your throat as her fingertips found a way up your chin, brushing past your lips as you began to suckle almost instinctively. Pleased with your eagerness, she looked up at you through her thick lashes, batting her eyes.

“How about we just… touch each other hm?” The suggestion hung in the air, only punctuated by your ragged breathing and a desperate “please” that squeaked from your throat, raw from straining and holding in the moans of your impending high.

“I’ve barely touched you, y/n.” she hummed. “You’re so desperate. It’s cute.” Her little giggle made your walls clench haphazardly at her teasing. Slowly, she slipped herself out of the red fabric at her hips, neatly placing the bundled thong in your mouth as a makeshift gag.

“I can’t let you have all the fun…”

Alisa’s finger trailed up your slit, collecting the pooling wetness that coated your lower half. She smiled, taking it into her mouth, humming at the taste of your essence. Her weight shifted as she moved herself to dangle over you, repositioning one of your legs and interlocking your fingers with hers to hold a semblance of balance as she lowered her own hips to meet yours. Slowly, she ran herself against you, making sure to guide your hips to match her own ministrations. You strained against each other, juices mixing as you began to work up an even pace.

“How long have you wanted this?” Her flowery moans filled the room with an unexpected rasp, one contrasting that of her normally demure voice. She was a completely new person- a sapphic vixen driven by nothing more than the feeling the sins of your flesh.

“I - fuck,” you panted, taking a sharp inhale as you felt two of her fingers suddenly begin to slowly stretch you. “Fuck, I’ve wanted this so bad.”

Her other free hand began to pinch and tweak at your hardened nipples, wanton cries spilling out of your lips and into hers, muffled under her kiss.

“Mhmmm, I know you have, kiska,” Alisa moaned, craning her neck down to your earlobe, gently blowing on it as she continued to grind down into you. Your walls flushed with heat at the roughness of her mother tongue combining with her soft voice.

“Everyone wants to fuck me. I’m Alisa fucking Haiba.”

Your walls clamping onto her fingers was confirmation enough that she was right, a smug chuckle and click of her tongue resounding in your ear as she locked her gaze with that of your own.

Her clit slid against yours with each buck of your hips, the sudden motions combined with her fingers curling against your soft walls again sparking the painstaking buildup of a knot in your stomach. Alisa’s eyes never left yours as one of her delicate, expertly manicured hands found its way to each side of your neck, gently squeezing. No sound escaped your lips, but your jaw was stuck open as she started to speed up her movement, rutting her cunt against yours even more aggressively than before.

The pleasurable friction between you two had your eyes screw shut before you could even get one last look at her face. You came undone with a shrill cry, hips bucking almost manically as you rode it out. The self satisfying smirk on Alisa’s face said it all.

Wiping the hairs from your sweaty forehead she kissed you again, hopping up and darting toward the stairs, leaving you panting breathlessly.

“What about the food?” Your voice was barely above a hoarse croak. It was scratchy and raw, even though you had barely made any sounds. Too much straining had taken its toll, and that was evident.

“That can wait,” she called. She was halfway up the stairs, looking down at you from the landing’s balcony.

“I’m gonna go put on the babydoll…. and get my toy box.”

Brainrot Kinktober Taglist (if your url is bolded, check ur privacy settings!): @ukaic @definitelythotful @shrimpypenis @nonexistent-social-life @crushingonsuga @revolutionary-chocolate-cake @right-shoe-jpg @sugawara-sweetheart @nxynxy @aoba-baby @arianna20 @scorpiosanssexy @ceo-of-daichi @dinosaurtsukki @turquoiselace @nonamemaximum @omibaby @chokemelevi @bokuakadaily @haikyuuangst @cutie-aesthetic-palace @whet-ones-write @superdepressedhoe @iwachanswh0re @crushzone @kiseox @mysticalroadnightempath @toobsessedsstuff @trouvelle @kodzu-ken @elianetsantana @sonyaroses-blog @tsukkisbitch @mrs-kuroojinguji @tendousfingers

#brainrot kinktober #haikyuu fic #haikyuu smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x you #haikyuu x y/n #haikyuu Alisa #Haiba Alisa #Alisa x reader #hq x reader #hq smut #hq fic #hq x y/n #haikyuu writing #hq writing #hq scenario #haikyuu scenario #alisa haiba #Alisa haikyuu

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deja-you · 4 years

Text

times new roman | episode four

t. jefferson x reader

summary: Y/n needs a date. Thomas would be more than happy to oblige.

trailer | previous | next

Groaning, Y/n slapped her phone onto the kitchen counter face down. She was in no mood to deal with Charles, Jefferson, or anyone else who felt the need to reply to her I-want-a-boyfriend Twitter ad. It was a joke. Mostly. Unless one of the Hollywood Chrises wanted to message her. Then it was real. But neither Hemsworth or Pine had found their way into her DMs, so it was just a joke.

The handle on the apartment door jiggled and Y/n edged closer to the wooden block where the knives were kept (this was New York, you could never be too careful). She quietly released a sigh of relief when the door opened and it was just Peggy rushing in to their shared apartment. Peggy looked like she had ran all the way back: her curly hair was in a mess of a ponytail, her makeup looked a little sweaty, and she was slightly out of breath.

“Alright. Y/n, tell me everything.”

Y/n was a little taken aback by Peggy’s urgency. “Whoa, there. You haven’t even set down your purse yet. This addiction to gossip is getting a little out of hand.”

Peggy only rolled her eyes. “I didn’t run all this way to hear you lecture me, Y/n. Just tell me what’s going on with you and Daddy Jefferson.”

If Y/n had been drinking something at that moment, she would’ve had a spit-take.

“What did you just say?!”

“You heard me.”

Y/n made a face. “Please never ever say that again.”

“I’m just teasin’. That is, unless you’re into that kind of thing. Jefferson is older, isn’t he?” Peggy pointed out.

“Margarita Schuyler, I swear--”

“But I guess you’ve always had a good relationship with your dad, and daddy kinks are usually reserved for girls with daddy issues, right?” She continued.

“I don’t think it works quite like that.”

Peggy rolled her eyes. “I’m getting off-topic, aren’t I? Anyway, tell me everything that’s happened between you and Jefferson.”

“There’s not much to tell.” Y/n shrugged.

“Not much to tell, other than the extremely flirtatious tweets you two have been exchanging?”

“I wouldn’t call it extremely flirtatious. Look, we’ve just been messaging back and forth since I tweeted about wanting a boyfriend -- which was a joke, by the way. I ran into him at dad’s office earlier, but nothing happened.”

“You ran into him today?” Peggy nearly squealed in excitement. “I wouldn’t call that nothing. So how did it happen? Did your eyes meet across a crowded room like in some cheesy Hallmark movie?”

“No. Charles was bothering me, so he let me hang out in his office until dad had finished up a meeting.”

“And?”

Y/n narrowed her eyes. “And what?”

“Well did anything happen?”

“Nothing happened.”

“So you’re telling me,” Peggy said, “that you exchange flirty tweets and then end up alone in an office with Mr. I’m-hotter-than-than-the-sun Jefferson, and nothing happened?”

Y/n couldn’t help but laugh at Peggy’s dramatics. “Nothing happened, Pegs. Sorry to disappoint.”

“I am disappointed. But it’s okay. You’ll see Jefferson at the company gala again. The two of you will fall in love, get married, have the most adorable children, and I’ll get to be fun aunt Peggy!”

“Whoa, there. Don’t you think you’re getting a little ahead of yourself? We barely know each other,” Y/n protested.

“I don’t know why you’re fighting this. You and Jefferson have chemistry. And besides, if I haven’t mentioned it before, he’s so very attractive.”

“You’ve mentioned it. In fact, you can’t stop mentioning it. Don’t get your hopes up, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Peggy waved her off and apparently ignored her last statement. “Whatever you want to keep telling yourself. Anyway, what do you want for dinner? I’m craving some Thai food.”

“Please remind me why I woke up early on my day-off to go get coffee with you?”

Peggy rolled her eyes and held open the door to her favorite coffee shop, it had been a couple days since Y/n’s run in with Jefferson. “Y/n, babe, every day is your day-off when you’re the heiress to George Washington’s fortune. You don’t even need to work a day in your life.”

“But I’m going to work because I want to. I didn’t go through four years of college just to live off my family fortune,” Y/n grumbled, but any prior grumpiness seemed to melt away when the smell of freshly poured coffee beans hit her nose.

“Oh right, forgot you actually want to make the world a better place or whatever,” Peggy rolled her eyes and proceeded to order two coffees at the counter.

“Is trying to make the world a better place a bad thing, now?”

Peggy glanced at Y/n and considered it for a second. “No, I suppose not. A little cliché and unoriginal, but I wouldn’t consider it a bad thing.”

“Whatever. Find us a seat, okay? I’ll grab our drinks when they’re ready.”

Y/n waited in the corner of the cafe between the wall and the counter, absentmindedly tapping her foot along to the beat of some catchy Jack Johnson song that Y/n was 90% sure was featured in a Curious George film. The drinks were ready before the song ended, and Y/n offered the barista a quiet ‘thank you’ as she took the cups over to where Peggy had found seats.

The coffee was still hot and would’ve surely burned Y/n if she had spilled it on herself, which she nearly did when she saw who was sitting across from Peggy.

Peggy sat with her ankles crossed and a grin on her face while she casually carried on a conversation with the one and only Thomas Jefferson. He wore a more casual outfit today, dark pants, a tucked white shirt (which of course, fit him perfectly), and a black coat that looked like it costed more than two months of Y/n’s rent -- and that was saying something, seeing as Y/n lived in New York City.

Neither Jefferson nor Peggy had noticed her approach them, and for a second Y/n considered bolting out the cafe door and finding somewhere to hide. But Y/n Washington was an adult, running away from her problems wasn’t a solution. Right?

“Oh, good. I was about to come find you,” Peggy said, acknowledging Y/n’s presence.

Y/n silently cursed her indecision and forced a polite smile onto her face. “Here’s your coffee, Pegs. I wasn’t aware we were meeting Mr. Jefferson here.”

Thomas had a smug smile on his face that gave Y/n a strange feeling in her gut (it wasn’t butterflies, Y/n refused to believe it was butterflies), and raised one of his eyebrows. “Aw, angel, you don’t sound too happy to see me.”

“It’s just that I didn’t realize you’d added ‘stalking your boss’s daughter’ to your list of hobbies,” Y/n shrugged, regaining her composure.

Thomas chuckled a little and shook his head. “What? I’m not allowed to stop in to my favorite coffee shop now?”

And as if to prove his point, Thomas sent a charming grin and a wave to the barista working at the counter. She grinned, a little too wide for Y/n’s liking, and happily waved back. Y/n rolled her eyes.

“Relax, Y/n,” Peggy urged. “I invited Thomas to come sit with us. We were just talking about what a small world it is.”

“Too small for my liking.” Y/n eyed Thomas warily and finally took the vacant seat between Peggy and Thomas. She glanced at Peggy, processing what her friend had just said. “Since when do you call him Thomas?”

“Most people call me Thomas, angel. You’re the only one who insists on callin’ me Mr. Jefferson. Even after I gave you other options.” Thomas sent Y/n a playful wink.

Peggy lifted her coffee to her lips to hide the smile she wore watching the scene unfold. Y/n opened her mouth to say something, then abruptly closed her mouth. She could feel her face heating up, and hopefully Thomas couldn’t tell how flustered he made her, but the wolfish grin on his face told her otherwise.

Thomas watched her for a moment, then let his gaze fall on Peggy. “Of course, I can leave now if y’all want. I don’t mind.”

Peggy was urgently shaking her head before Y/n could say anything. “No, no, stay! Y/n doesn’t mind.”

Y/n sent Peggy a look that very clearly read ‘yes, I do mind.’

“That’s swell,” Jefferson grinned.

“Who even uses the word ‘swell’ anymore?” Y/n crossed her arms.

“Y/n! Don’t be--”

Peggy was interrupted when her phone began buzzing on the table. She apologized briefly to both Jefferson and Y/n before stepping outside to take the call. Now it was just Y/n and Jefferson sitting at a table together in a cafe.

“So,” Y/n started after a minute or two of silence. “Nice weather we’re having.” She cringed at how awkward she sounded, but Jefferson seemed to find her amusing.

“Nice weather? Angel, have you even been outside today? It’s freezing.”

She scowled. “I was just trying to make polite conversation, okay?”

“You’re not very good at that, are you?” He chuckled. “You sure you’re George Washington’s daughter? You weren’t adopted or anything?”

“No, he didn’t adopt me. I guess the charismatic genes weren’t passed on,” Y/n sighed.

“Y/n, Thomas.” Peggy had returned from her phone call and started picking up her purse and jacket. “I’m so sorry, but a friend called. I have to go. But you two should stay as long as you like.” She sent a wink in Y/n’s direction that Thomas almost definitely saw.

And so Peggy left, leaving Y/n with her archenemy. Well, maybe archenemy was too strong. But still. Y/n sighed and took a long sip of her drink.

“You’re not leavin’?”

Y/n’s eyes met Thomas’s deep brown ones over the top of her cup. “Did you want me to leave?”

“No, no. ‘Course not. I just thought once Peggy left you wouldn’t stay long after,” Thomas explained.

She only shrugged. “I’ve got nothing better to do today.”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying my company, then.”

“Hey, I never said I was enjoying your company. Merely putting up with you.”

“Is that it?”

“That’s it,” she nodded. Thomas glanced down at his watch and Y/n raised an eyebrow. “Do you have somewhere to be?”

“Surprisingly, I have nothing scheduled today.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing,” he confirmed. “And you said you’re not doing anything today?”

Y/n pursed her lips then nodded. “It’s my day off. Getting coffee with Peggy was my big plan for the day.”

“Then do you want to do something with me?”

The question struck her like a bolt of lightning. Y/n didn’t have any plans for the day, and she was looking for something fun to do... but this was Thomas Jefferson. The Thomas Jefferson who worked for her father and who was shamelessly arrogant. The Thomas Jefferson who she had mentally called her archenemy only moments ago. So she should’ve just said no. But then there was some part of her that did want to do something with him.

“Do I want to do something with you?” Y/n repeated, cocking her head to the side. “Like a date?”

His eyes widened and he slowly shook his head. “No. No, not like a date. Just two people doing the same thing at the same time. Not a date.”

“What activity were you thinking?” Y/n couldn’t believe she was considering this.

“Let’s go to Coney Island.”

“Coney Island?” She laughed but when he didn’t join her, her expression turned serious. “You’re not joking, are you? We can’t just go to Coney Island. You said it yourself, it’s cold out.”

“So bring a coat. C’mon, angel, I know you’re not the type, but it could be fun. Be spontaneous, just this once.” His smile was all too comfortable and his eyes twinkled with mischief.

“I’m not the type?” Y/n tried not to show how offended she was, but failed miserably. Is that really what he thought of her? That she was some kind of boring prude? Oh, how wrong was he. “Y’know what? Okay. Let’s go.”

Thomas perked up. “Did I hear you right? You really want to go?”

“You’re that surprised? Let’s go before I change my mind, Jefferson. But it’s not a date.”

He smiled. “It’s not a date.”

A/N: let me know if I forgot to add you to the tags or if you want to be added

tags: @fangirling-central @dannighost @ateliefloresdaprimavera @justahappylilblog @fanfic-addict-98 @a-hopeless-fan @and-claudia @nicolemelton @youtxbemusic @reidcult @eirenism @fantasy-of-fiction @iamsuperconfusedallthetime-dead @a-midwinter-night-dream-86 @rycbar-221b @bethanymccauley

#hamilton x reader #hamilton #hamilton imagine #lafayette x reader #hamilton fanfiction #lafayette imagine #daveed diggs #marquis de lafayette #daveed diggs x reader #thomas jefferson x reader #thomasjefferson #thomas jefferson #TNR

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fanficshiddles · 4 years

Text

Caught in his web, Chapter 44

‘You can’t be serious!’

‘I am deadly serious.’ Loki nodded. ‘Now come on, be a good girl, get on the bed and spread your legs.’

Chloe gulped. She had been excited at first when Loki said he was taking her out for dinner, but what he failed to mentioned beforehand was that he had something planned for her to wear during it...

A butt plug.

‘Loki… Please no.’ She whined.

Loki raised an eyebrow at her, looking at her with a look that she knew meant she would be in trouble if she didn’t do as she was told.

‘Don’t make me bend you over my lap and spank you first, doll. Because you know I will do so. And that will make you very uncomfortable during dinner. This is going in your ass one way or another, so I suggest you do it the easy way. It will be better on you.’ He growled low.

Chloe swallowed hard and on shaky legs she went over to her bed and lay down. Loki grabbed her ankles and scooted her down to the end of it so her ass was hanging off. He flipped her dress right up out of the way.

‘Pull your legs up and hold them back.’ Loki said, tapping her knee.

‘You’re such an asshole.’ She hissed at him as she did what he said.

Loki just grinned at her insult and proceeded to pour plenty of lube over the butt plug. It was silicone, dark green of course. It was quite thin at the top then slowly got wider, then it rounded off nicely to a thin neck-like shape before then a large flared, flat, base to remain on the outside.

‘Keep a nice hold of your legs, and relax.’ He hummed, pushing her knickers to the side just enough for him to get access.

She sucked in harshly when she felt his finger prodding around there, lubed up and pushing in to prepare her.

‘I said relax, doll.’

‘I’m trying!’ She snapped at him.

That earned her a quick slap on the cunt, making her yelp and she tried closing her legs but Loki pinched her inner thigh. ‘Don’t you dare.’ He growled.

She groaned and kept her legs open, cursing him in her mind.

Loki slid his finger back inside her puckered hole, wiggling it about until she relaxed a bit. Then he added a second finger and waited until she was relaxed again.

‘That’s it, good girl.’ He purred, removing his fingers.

She whined and wriggled a little when he pressed the tip of the plug against her and slowly started to push in. Loki went slowly, sliding it further and further until it was in completely. He tapped the end of it once in, making her body jolt.

‘There we go.’ He grinned and rubbed her legs. ‘Not so bad, is it?’

Chloe let go of her legs and groaned at the strange sensation inside her. Loki grabbed her hands and helped her to sit up, making her squeak in the process.

‘How am I supposed to sit through dinner with this up my ass?’ She whined.

Loki chuckled and gripped her chin, he leaned down and kissed her on the lips. ‘You’ll do it because I’ve told you to. The rewards will be worth it.’ He winked at her.

Chloe wasn’t so convinced though.

Even just walking downstairs and out to the car felt weird. Loki just looked smug as he helped her into the car and told Nelson where to take them. Chloe was in a bit of a huff, folding her arms over her chest she just stared out the window as they drove.

Loki allowed her this little temper tantrum. He knew she would soon change her tune…

She already perked up a little when she found he had taken her to her favourite Thai food restaurant. Being the ever gentleman, he opened the door for her and tucked her chair in at the table.

When he sat down, Chloe noticed he had a slight smirk playing at the side of his lips. Like he was trying to contain a bigger one or a laugh. She could tell by the twinkling in his eyes, too, that he was up to something. Or was planning something.

‘What?’ She asked, narrowing her eyes at him across the table.

‘What?’ He countered.

‘You know what!’ Chloe sneered, but was briefly distracted when the waiter came and took their drinks order.

‘I have no idea what you are talking about, doll.’ He grinned at her and looked down at the menu.

But Chloe wasn’t buying it. He was up to something for sure.

She was soon distracted with the wine that was ordered and the casual chit chat with Loki. Also the starters that soon arrived, she almost demolished the lot herself because she was so hungry.

About to take the last forkful, the fork suddenly clattered down to her plate as she almost leaped out of her seat in surprise. Her face was an absolute picture when she glared over at Loki and gripped the edge of the table as the butt plug buzzed to life inside her.

The biggest, most wicked, grin spread across Loki’s face.

‘L… Loki… Turn it off.’ She hissed quietly, nervously glancing around to make sure no one was looking or listening.

‘Now why would I do that, doll?’ Loki raised both hands up over the table and clasped them together, leaning forward a bit.

‘I’m going to the bathroom.’ Chloe decided and slid her chair back.

Loki raised an eyebrow at her. ‘You take it out and there will be hell to pay when we get home.’ He growled in warning.

Chloe closed her eyes, gritted her teeth and pulled her chair in again. The vibrations were rather intense, it was pleasurable in a way, but not as nice as if it had been elsewhere.

‘Good girl.’ Loki purred when she settled again. Or the best she could with a vibrating plug up her ass.

‘I hate you.’ She grumbled and finished the last of her starter, glaring at him in the process.

‘I thought you loved me?’ Loki asked, giving her puppy dog eyes.

She rolled her eyes and put down her cutlery once she was finished. ‘It’s a love-hate thing going on right now.’ She huffed and sat back, trying to get into a comfier position. But no matter how she sat, it didn’t ease the pressure inside of her.

Loki gave her a little bit of leeway when their main course arrived. He turned it down to the lowest setting. A gentle hum more than anything, just reminding her constantly that it was there.

By the time they’d finished dinner, she actually found herself feeling really aroused. She’d even turned down dessert because she was wanting to get home as soon as possible.

‘Perhaps we could go for some drinks, or a leisurely walk along the riverside?’ Loki suggested as he helped her with her coat, the plug was turned up to medium in the process making Chloe’s legs buckle, but Loki caught her to steady her.

‘Can we just go home? Please?’ Chloe asked, slightly breathless as she clutched his arm tightly. To anyone looking on it would just look like Chloe was deeply in love with him. Not the fact she was desperate for him to just bend her over the table and fuck her.

‘Just so you can remove our little toy?’ Loki raised an eyebrow.

‘N… No… So you can fuck me!’ She whispered. Her answer surprised Loki, but made his cock twitch.

He circled his arm around her middle and guided her out of the restaurant. As they reached the car, he turned the butt plug up high, making Chloe cry out and fall into him. He chuckled and bundled her into the car.

As soon as they got in, he had Nelson close the back seat off so they had privacy. The door was barely shut before Loki pounced on Chloe, draping her across the back seat.

He bundled her dress up in a rush and simply tore her knickers off instead of removing them in one piece. He tapped on the butt plug, making her yelp. It was still vibrating nicely inside of her. He grinned wickedly up at her and then slid his fingers through her folds, discovering she was nice and wet.

‘I think you’ve been lying to me, doll. Putting up such a fuss about this in the first place when you’re absolutely soaking.’ He teased over her clit, making her whine as she put her head back and closed her eyes.

‘I should lay you over my knee and punish you for objecting so much.’ He growled, warning. But he was too aroused himself, he didn’t want to wait.

He did as minimal removing of his own clothes as possible, just releasing his cock. He forced her legs wider apart and she reached up to put her hands against the door, giving herself some leverage for what she had a feeling would be a thorough fucking.

Loki shifted over her and pressed himself into her, the both of them moaned in delight when he sank deep into her. Loki caught his breath when he felt the vibrations of the plug through her and her cunt felt tighter too, being double penetrated.

Garbled noises were coming from Chloe as Loki fucked her deep and slow, eventually gaining some pace. He knew it would be a different kind of pleasure for her, having something of a decent size up her ass at the same time as his cock inside her.

It was a good job she had her hands flat on the door, because when Loki picked up the pace he was rocking into her so hard that she would’ve hit her head otherwise.

The both of them were so close to cumming, when suddenly Nelson had to break hard and they went tumbling onto the floor. Luckily for Chloe she landed on top of Loki. He grunted as his back hit the floor, but it also made his cock lodge further inside of her making them both yelp.

‘NELSON!’ Loki roared and banged on the divider.

‘Sorry, boss! Idiot cyclist on front of us.’ Nelson said through the speaker.

Loki groaned, but then he noticed Chloe was struggling to contain her laughter as she hid her face down against his chest. He smiled and chuckled, wrapping his arms around her tightly as he thrust up into her, abruptly halting her laughter and replacing it with moans once more.

#Loki #Tom Hiddleston #fan fiction #caught in his web

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lovelyirony · 4 years

Note

Fic title meme : pulvis et umbra sumus (We Are Dust And Shadows)

On every single document, including the ones that show what actually happened to Howard and Maria Stark, Tony Stark is listed as dead among them.

He is not.

But in not calling in the accident on the abandoned road, Tony managed to find someone else to take his place and escaped.

Tony Stark is dead. A whole family funeral and everything. Obadiah pretends to cry. Tony is at the funeral with shitty dye in his hair and sunglasses that he wouldn’t be caught dead wearing. Ha.

The funeral is closed casket. All their faces are rumored to be impossible to fix with make-up.

He makes new documents. Anthony Jarvis, from Boston. Airtight background. Likes puzzles. Scored damn high on the SAT, but not the perfect score.

(Killed him to answer some of those questions wrong, seriously.)

Anthony Jarvis goes to MIT and requests a single room. He gets one for one semester, and then the room next to his burns and destroys his as well. So he gets moved to Jim Rhodes’.

Jim becomes Rhodey, and he is the first friend of Anthony Jarvis, and nicknames him Tony.

He grins at that.

There are plenty of times that Tony wants to tell him. The thing about secrets is that they need to be shared. No one really wants a secret, nor do they want to keep it. But he keeps his mouth shut and asks if he wants to go for Thai food.

“This is the third time this week.”

“Not my fault it’s good! I’ll pay...”

“Sign me up.”

Tony and Rhodey gets Thai food. It’s good.

Rhodey lets him in on a secret that Tony had actually known about since his room assignment.

(You remember that guy’s room that caught on fire? Yeah, he swore that his microwave hadn’t been on, and nothing had been plugged in. He was right. But Tony needed an accident.)

In other circumstances, Rhodey would have ignored the offer that he had. He had had his heart set on Air Force. But there was something about the man who talked to him.

“It’s a place called Strategic-Homeland-something I can’t remember,” Rhodey says. “Point is, they’re a big deal and kind of shady, but not in the government shady kind of way. The only thing I can find out about them is that they’re an international company who need engineers, pilots, and basically anyone like you and me. I don’t know how I feel about it.”

Tony nods.

“You want me in on this?”

“I mean, you did tell me a couple of weeks ago that you weren’t sure what you wanted to do after graduation.”

(It was two weeks, three days, and fourteen hours ago. Not like he was counting.)

“...thanks. I’ll check it out with you.”

Anthony Jarvis shows up in a nice suit, stupid sunglasses, and impresses the higher-ups by diagnosing a problem with the engine that others had previously marked as “impossible.”

He’s hired on the spot, same as Rhodey.

Tony Jarvis gets his own keycard, finds an apartment in New York that’s within at least biking distance, and gets started on inventing some cute little toys for the spies in Research and Development.

He brings the laser-lipstick to life, poison-drop-earrings, spyglasses that actually work and have HD, and briefcases that use mirroring technology to change color.

“How did you do this?” Rhodey asks, eyes wide. “I swear this is unreal.”

“Aw,” Tony says. “You sap. I got some inspiration from some old comic book ads. I think I’m gonna try a ring decoder next, what do you think?”

“Almost makes me want to go on missions instead of flying them.”

Tony Jarvis is known for working odd yet long hours. He comes up with results. And he keeps his head down and minds his own business.

This is all to find out exactly who killed his parents. As much as his and Howard’s relationship was...interesting, he still wanted to know.

His desire to know the truth leads to somewhere he hadn’t thought was possible: Hydra.

His hands freeze as he looks at the paper file with thick, black lines all over. The information there was sparse. Howard, Maria, and Anthony Stark all died. It was ruled:

And there’s nothing there.

It wasn’t an accident. Sure he knew that, but there was something far more sinister at play. Why wasn’t it an accident?

He gets Alexander Pierce in his apartment with a man in the corner. His arm gleams in what little light from the lamps outside give off.

“Why are you searching for the Stark files?” He asks.

“Why didn’t you just schedule a meeting? I’m available tomorrow at three,” Tony jokes. “Who’s your friend here?”

“Someone you wouldn’t want to shake hands with,” Pierce answers. “You need to stop looking into this before you find yourself in a situation you don’t want to be in.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Accidents will happen,” Pierce says. He gets up from the table, to the counter. Gets out a glass. And makes himself water. He smiles as he looks to the man in the corner. “Do you want any water, Winter Soldier?”

Winter Soldier remains impassive.

Tony stills.

“So, the legends are true. And Hydra is still around.”

“And if you aren’t careful, you won’t be,” Pierce says. “Don’t bring any of this up. Or this won’t be the last time you see Winter Soldier. I know your moves, Jarvis. Don’t think you can surprise me.”

They exit the apartment. Tony realizes that Pierce took his glass.

And he laughs.

Because this? Not according to plan, but god he’s gonna have fun with it.

It starts with telling Rhodey who he actually is.

It does not go as planned.

“So let me get this straight. I’ve known you for years and you just. Never told me?” Rhodey asks. “Why not?”

“To be completely fair, no one knows besides a man in Wisconsin, and he’s from Wisconsin,” Tony says. “Also I was drunk. Drunk me is a terrible person who would sell me for a buffalo nickel.”

“I’m still mad, even if that’s funny,” Rhodey says, trying not to smile. “So. Why tell me now? I’m assuming you need something.”

“I would like your help,” Tony says. “It is not required but I am toppling a secret organization living in SHIELD and I think if I get your help, I will most likely not get fired by the end of this. Fury likes you, he hates me.”

“False, he mildly tolerates you. You’ll be fine. Probably. Who else should we get to help?”

Tony had originally planned for no one.

But then there was Pepper Potts.

She had been deemed by the media as “crazy” for accusing Obadiah Stane, longtime-CEO of Stark Industries, as ordering a hit out on the Stark family.

She had been booted from the company--anticipated--and then Hydra had ordered a hit on her.

Slightly unexpected.

Point is, Rhodey brings her into the apartment and tells Tony casually that the grocery store had run out of his usual hummus brand, was the generic okay?

“That’s like asking if I’m okay with blue pens,” Tony curses. “Also, is that Pepper Potts? Why is she here? Did you run into her at the grocery store?”

“No, as I was coming back. Did you know that she has a hit out on her? Fun times.”

“Oh my god, will someone explain to me what’s going on here?!” Pepper seethes. “I was just trying to get my yogurt without anyone taking a picture of me and some random fucking guy had a knife thrown at me and then this guy took me to your house!”

She then rants for ten minutes about the “questionable design choices going on in this establishment, who honestly thinks shot glasses are a decoration?!”

“Are you done?” Tony asks. “Because if you want to help with a conspiracy plot, you need to be done.”

She is.

Pepper does not get a job with SHIELD. In fact, she mainly just decides to take care of the redecoration in Tony’s apartment.

“You will be paying me for this.”

“Why would I do that? You’re using my money to buy everything. You’re living here rent free for now.”

“Because I’m helping you make better life choices. I also want new shoes.”

What Pepper does is provide very valuable access to Stark Industries: she knows the ins and outs, what employees do and don’t do, and also is very helpful in telling Tony what he needs to do when he takes the company over.

“Who said I was going to take it over?”

“Me,” Pepper says. “Also because I reviewed every single old document and the company was specified to go to next-of-kin. You are. And you’re not dead.”

“My death certificate is literally framed,” Tony says, pointing to his graduation photo that Rhodey took. He had swapped out his official diploma with it as a joke. No one had seen it. He thought it was hilarious.

“Yeah, but they can do DNA testing,” Pepper says. “This is like the twenty-first century Anastasia except this time they don’t find you with metal detectors!”

“I don’t like that you know that story as well as you do,” Rhodey says. “But I’ll leave you a credit card for furniture and groceries. If you get rid of my drinks in the fridge I’m literally never forgiving you.”

“Noted, and I don’t need forgiveness,” Pepper says. “But they’ll stay there.”

So begins the plot.

Pierce doesn’t know three things, which is a lot of things not to know:

1.) Tony Jarvis is not Tony Jarvis.

2.) Rhodey actually likes Tony and most of the time him saying that he would “kill Tony in a variety of ways, starting with sporks and moving forward...” is mostly (mostly) a joke.

3.) Pepper Potts resides in their apartment and is having fun telling Tony she bought new silverware.

“Why did you buy new silverware! It was fine!”

“I recognized all of these forks and knives from restaurants. Why did you steal them from restaurants?”

“They can replace them!”

“Don’t. Anyways now your spoons match and you don’t have the shitty ones from different places. Also I painted the bathroom.”

“My landlord is gonna kill me.”

“I made her cookies and discovered that she likes going to concerts. You’ll be fine.”

(Pepper is a goddess. You can’t convince them otherwise.)

Pierce doesn’t know any of this, but he still holds a key piece of blackmail: Tony Jarvis shouldn’t know about Hydra, and he’ll do anything to make sure that he doesn’t lose his job.

Tony has been recording their conversations for weeks.

(Pierce thinks he doesn’t design things to get around the available technology. Pathetic.)

He also has bugged Pierce as well as his house, and figures out that Winter Soldier is going to be on assignment within the DC area in an effort to kill some higher-up on the foodchain that was SHIELD.

Well.

Tony has always wanted to go and see the cherry blossoms a little more up close.

Pepper, of course, doesn’t like that they left his boots on.

“This couch is new and red,” she says. “Take off his boots!”

“He is unconscious and probably won’t be in the next fifteen minutes,” Rhodey says. “We are not touching him and possibly shortening that fifteen minutes.”

Winter Soldier wakes up to three faces staring at him.

“Mission failed?” he asks, voice robotic.

“Nope, you just got a new one,” says the man on the right. He is wearing a t-shirt. Winter Soldier thinks that in this situation, a t-shirt is not the best option.

(Of course, he’s not supposed to think. But they don’t have to know that.”

“Can you take your shoes off?” says the woman in the middle. “Please. You’re getting germs on the couch.”

He’s confused.

“Who am I killing?”

“No one, yet,” says the man on the left. “Do you know who you are?”

“Winter Soldier.”

“No, like a name? I’m assuming you’ve had a name at some point.”

“Someone has called me Mr. Freeze before.”

The man on the left snorts. Man on the right taps his arm lightly.

“Well, um, okay then. How do you feel about the name...aw shit. I can’t think of a name for you when your mask is on. Can you take the mask off?”

He takes it off. It’s nicer to breathe.

The man in the t-shirt pauses.

“Okay. So your name is Bucky Barnes. Do you know that name?”

Something clicked. But he doesn’t know what.

“Sounds...familiar.”

“Cool! So that’s your name now, do me a favor and don’t google it. I’m Tony, this is Rhodey, and this is Pepper. If you don’t take your shoes off, you’re going to be scared of her.”

Newly-named-Bucky highly doubts that he will be scared of Pepper because she is built like a twig and she is wearing high heels.

(He is wrong about ten minutes later when she forcibly throws a fork at him.)

“Why am I here?” he asks. “Should I be checking back in with Handler Pierce?”

“No,” comes the consensus from everyone else in the room.

“Technically, he thinks you went rogue and went back to Russia. He’s organizing a team to go get you. We hired an actor to play you. It’s been entertaining. He got some plums. Do you like plums?”

“Why is that relevant?”

“It’s vapid and not interesting at all, Tony loves questions like that,” Rhodey says. “Now come on. We need to get you actual shirts. Also some body wash.”

Bucky Barnes learns how to be a person. He stares at himself in the mirror for an hour and smiles slightly when Pepper calls him “vain” and pushes him aside to grab her hairbrush.

He then learns that Hydra is trying to overtake SHIELD and they have a slight window with Pierce out.

This involves two things:

1.) Tony Stark coming back from the dead.

2.) SHIELD panicking that they didn’t know this secret and taking another look at the paperwork, in which case Hydra will be found out.

These are both easier than anticipated. Tony can act like a showman better than anyone, and has been carefully growing a goatee that is eerily reminiscent of his late father’s. Of course he’s had to switch it up.

The media is going crazy. SHIELD as well. They’re scrambling to find paperwork that proves that it happened, and they find that the “accident” was no accident. That Howard hadn’t been working for the “enemy” at the time.

The enemy was in the building, and they had blended in seamlessly.

This all happens on a Wednesday, by the way. Pepper has it marked on the calendar and everything. Rhodey made his coffee.

Bucky is busy slamming people into drywall and listening for any word from Rhodey, who is also slamming people into drywall.

“You know, you’d think we’d get something like a suit of armor for this,” Rhodey pants out, slamming another guy out of his way.

Bucky nods.

“Best I can offer is a grenade.”

“Where in the fuck did you get a grenade?!”

“Supply closet. Second floor. What, you didn’t check?”

“No sorry must’ve missed it--of course I didn’t fucking check the second floor closet!” Rhodey yells.

Bucky says he’s stressed. He should calm himself.

Rhodey chucks a particularly nasty Hydra agent out a window.

(Bucky thinks Rhodey is probably the coolest person he’ll ever meet.)

Tony is fashionably late to the take-down of the century. He’s already foiled a lot of plans, and taken a key-card for Project Insight to work.

He waltzes in and nearly gets hit by a mug.

“So, how’s the party going?” he yells over to Pepper. Pepper is still in her heels. She looks like a goddess still, as usual. It is a Wednesday, after all.

“As fine as it can be,” Pepper says. “We’ve met some resistance. With Pierce gone there’s little infrastructure. You got his plane delayed, correct?”

“Even better. Got it sent to London. Motherfucker is gonna be there for a while,” Tony says. “Also may or may not have said that he was a threat. SHIELD branch there will investigate, find out some questionable things in his file that he will swear up and down were never there.”

“Good,” Pepper says. She launches a stapler at someone’s head. “Do you think we’ll have time to pick up takeout for dinner?”

“Depends on whether or not Deputy Director Hill is Hydra.”

They see Maria Hill pass by in a blur, yelling as she jumps onto a man and sends him crashing down over a railing.

“Lovely, she isn’t!” Pepper cheers. “By the way, I was thinking about redoing our kitchen.”

“‘Our’ kitchen?” Tony says, ducking a bullet and drawing out his personal lipstick-laser, firing it with expert precision. “I told you the living situation was temporary.”

“Oh please, you have an extra room.”

“Which was an office!” Tony tells her.

“Like you can’t have your office at Stark Industries,” Pepper says. “I expect to hear how the reveal went over dinner. Also, please hire me back. I don’t wanna be your interior decorator for forever.”

“Neither do I, you like modern art. Disgusting.”

And so the fighting resumes.

It is done by five-thirty-two, with an official surrender from Pierce.

“Thank god, I already ordered Chinese and they said it’d be here at six,” Rhodey says.

They all sit on the red couch.

Shoes on.

Tony tips four hundred percent.

“So what are we doing tomorrow?” Rhodey asks.

“I am not moving for six hours,” Bucky answers. “Also maybe getting a library card.”

“This is the first thing you want out of the icebox? A library card?” Tony asks, laughing.

Pepper laughs.

“I have errands to run. You can come with me and we’ll swing by.”

“What are the errands?”

“Getting a kitchen mixer and also making sure that my plates match my napkins.”

“A travesty if it doesn’t happen,” Rhodey deadpans. “Pass the lo mein, Tony. You’re hogging it.”

“I had to fight on a Wednesday and run,” Tony says. “Today isn’t cardio day.”

“Literally hate it when you speak,” Rhodey says. “Absolutely abhor your language.”

They go to bed, although it’s more of laying on the floor.

Sure, Tony will have to deal with retaking a business that he knows a bit less about and Pepper will have to be trained (again) and also fight against being made CEO (but she won’t fight much). Rhodey will get a new job with SI because it’s not like Tony will let him work at SHIELD (Rhodey tries, Tony will get him fired at some point). Bucky just...he needs to get a bit more than a library card.

But that’s for tomorrow.

#BUCKLE IN BOYS WE GOT A LONGGGGGG ONE #bucky barnes #tony stark #rhodey #pepper potts #yes this took all day yes i didn't proofread it #but i love this so much #lovelyirony writes

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sesamestreep · 4 years

Text

stack the deck with wild cards (chapter 2)

(read on AO3)

(start from the beginning)

SUMMARY: Jyn tries to tell Cassian about the pregnancy--and the abortion--but it’s more difficult than she thought it would be. And she was already pretty sure it was going to suck.

A/N: The next installment of the Obvious Child AU. Same warnings apply! See the AO3 links for more details! Discussions of pregnancy, abortion, and unsafe sex abound. Curate your own experience! I love you!

Jyn practically wears a hole in the floor of her apartment from pacing so much, but she does eventually find the courage to tap Cassian’s name on her phone and call him. It’s mid-afternoon on a weekday and she’s gotten precisely nothing done all day because she’s been fretting about this conversation. She tries to remind herself of Bodhi’s reassurances that Cassian will be cool about all of this, but in reality, the only thing that’s actually making her feel better is the thought of getting this part over with, so she can panic about every other aspect of this situation instead.

Cassian mercifully picks up on the second ring. “Hello?” He says, cautiously.

Somehow, despite the fact that she was very intentionally calling him on the telephone, actually hearing his voice still catches her off guard. It doesn’t help that Cassian has a really nice voice, something she’s allowed to notice without it being weird because she's an amateur musician and all. He tends to be pretty quiet in general, but he’s also been know to occasionally go off on a tangent about something he really cares about—some new thing a local politician is doing that he thinks is stupid, or one of the kids he works with doing something amazing with their life that he can’t wait to share—and Jyn somehow does not get bored of listening to him, like she normally would with anyone else who tries to talk to her about politics or children. She’s happy to blame that on the whole nice voice thing and to ignore the part of her brain that’s suggesting maybe she just likes him as a person.

“Hello?” Cassian asks again, sounding more confused this time.

“Cassian, hi,” Jyn says, finally snapping out of her reverie. “It’s Jyn.”

“Yeah, I saw the name on the screen,” he says, not unkindly, and she resists the urge to smack herself on the forehead like she’s in a cartoon.

“Sorry, I, uh, didn’t know if you’d have my number saved or not,” she says, glad he can’t see the way she’s grimacing at her own stupidity.

“Of course I do,” he replies, matter-of-factly. “What can I do for you? Is everything alright?”

Jyn panics at the question and she can’t keep the bristle out of her tone. “Why would something be wrong?”

“I just—I thought something might have happened to Bodhi,” he says, and his tone is hard to read. “You and I don’t normally talk on the phone much.”

We don’t talk much at all , Jyn thinks, petulantly, even though she’s the one who said she would call after they hooked up and then didn’t, so whose fault is it really? If she wanted them to talk more, she could have made that happen and she didn’t. And moreover, she supposes he probably would be her first call if something had happened to Bodhi. They live together after all and, beyond that, Cassian just seems like he’d be good in a crisis. She could imagine leaning on him—trusting him, that is—in a time of stress. Not now, obviously. But in a theoretical situation in an alternate universe where she hadn’t ruined whatever relationship they have or could have with her numerous issues, he’d be the guy to call, she thinks.

“Uh, no, I guess we don’t,” she admits. “Bodhi’s fine, though. So, no worries there.”

“Oh, good,” he replies, with obvious relief. “So, what do you need?”

It doesn’t sound dismissive, but she can’t see him and so she can’t be absolutely certain. Maybe he’s annoyed to hear from her after all this time. It would make sense, but the possibility of it still stings. She forces herself to push past it and keep going.

“I just wanted to tell you—” Jyn is cut off by some murmuring in the background of the call followed by some loud rustling, as if Cassian was blocking the phone’s mic. It only continues for a few seconds, before the sound on the line is clear again.

“Sorry about that, Jyn,” Cassian says, sincerely. “My co-worker needed to ask me something before our meeting and she didn’t realize I was on the phone.”

“Oh,” Jyn says, and that stops her short. She figured he was at work and that wasn’t really the ideal place for him to get this news, but she has no idea what kind of hours he works and she couldn’t bear to put it off any longer. But now, it seems like a terrible idea.

“Do you—I thought you had your own office,” she says, for all it’s a complete non-sequitur. She thought he’d at least be alone when she told him the news.

“Me?” He asks, as if she could mean anyone else. “No, it’s an open floor plan at the office. I just have a cubicle.”

“Oh,” she says again. The idea of breaking this news to Cassian when he’s in full view of his co-workers and won’t be able to process it in private suddenly feels so cruel to Jyn that she can’t even think what to say next.

“Is that a problem?”

“No, no. Not at all. I’m just—I always pictured you as having your own office. Not that I picture you—I don’t think about your work, that is. I just, when I called you, I was imagining an office, that’s all.”

“Right,” Cassian says, evenly. Jyn could sink into the floor, she’s so embarrassed. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

Jyn’s brain is going into panic mode, which is the only explanation for why she blurts out what she does. “I just wanted to know if you were free for dinner,” she practically shouts.

“Dinner?”

“Yes, dinner,” she replies, cheerily, even as the reality of what’s she’s asked hits her like a freight train. That sounds like a date, you moron , her brain shouts at her.

“Me and you?”

Jyn closes her eyes against the embarrassment she feels, both at her suggestion and at his incredulity. “Yeah, me and you,” she answers, and with her eyes shut, she can allow herself to enjoy the idea of it, of getting dinner with him. Like they’re just normal people that like each other and everything is simple.

“When?”

“Is tonight too soon?”

“I don’t have any other plans,” he says and Jyn thinks he might sound nervous. It makes her feel incredible and terrible at the same time. “Did you have somewhere in mind?”

“Um, there’s this Thai place in my neighborhood that I really like,” she says, naming the first place she can think of. Besides, if she has to have this awful conversation over dinner, it might as well be at a place she likes. “If you like Thai food, that is.”

“Yeah. Yes. That sounds great.”

“I’ll send you the address. Could you meet me for 7 o’clock?”

“I’ll have to come directly from work, but if that’s okay with you, 7 is fine.”

“Totally okay with me,” she says, absently thinking of the sweater-and-a-button-up ensembles he normally wears to work and if that’s what he’ll wear to the restaurant tonight. She wonders if he’ll have the sleeves rolled up in the way she finds stupidly attractive for no discernible reason.

“Great,” he says, brightly and then clears his throat. “I’ll see you then.”

“I’m looking forward to it,” Jyn replies, and then wishes she could take it back. She always likes seeing him, but under the circumstances, it sounds so cheery and fake.

Cassian, for his part, seems caught off-guard, but he recovers fairly quickly. “I am too.”

They eventually run out of pleasant almost-sign-offs and have to actually say goodbye and hang up, which leaves Jyn in her empty apartment to continue freaking out. Why had she put this conversation off even further? Obviously, telling him at work was not a great plan, but tricking him into thinking they’re going to have a nice dinner—maybe he even thinks she was asking him out on a date—is somehow worse. The only advantage to this new plan is that he’s very unlikely to cause a scene in a public place. Then again, Jyn has a hard time imagining Cassian causing a scene anywhere. He’s so calm and collected most of the time. That bodes well for how he’ll take her news, but she can’t really be sure.

After texting him the address for the restaurant, Jyn copes with the stress of her impending dinner by trying on literally every outfit she owns, in order to figure out what to wear. It can’t be too fancy or too sexy because she needs Cassian to know it’s not a date, but she also doesn’t want to look casual or frumpy, though she doesn’t examine her motives for wanting to look good for this awkward dinner too closely. By the end of this process, most of her clothing is in a pile on her bed that she will have to clear off later in order to go to sleep—a problem for future Jyn, as always—and she’s selected a pair of black overalls that seem to be the item with the least paint on them in her entire wardrobe to wear over a cropped sweater. It’s a cute outfit that doesn’t explicitly scream “DATE NIGHT” but also doesn’t make her feel hideous, which, for all her pregnancy isn’t far along, is a hard feeling to come by, thanks to the hormones.

She picks out shoes to match and even puts on some makeup and tries to get her bangs to look normal, which kills enough time that, if she walks to the restaurant instead of being lazy and taking a cab, she might actually beat Cassian there, even though he’s aggressively early to everything. After the obligatory search for wherever she left her keys—a daily ritual for her—she sets out for the restaurant feeling only a little queasy with what she assumes are nerves.

The restaurant is busy enough for a weekday evening but Jyn only has to wait a few minutes for a table. She warns the waiter she’s expecting someone and orders an iced tea while she waits. She bobs one knee up and down furiously underneath the table, anxious for Cassian to show up and secretly wishing he won’t so she can just go home and pretend none of this is really happening. Though she tries not to, she still watches the door like a hawk, practically jumping out of her seat every time someone walks through the main entrance.

Cassian shows up at 7:02 PM, leaving Jyn very little time to freak out alone, for all it felt like an eternity. She’s watching as he comes through the door and speaks to the hostess, so she sees him run a hand through his hair in what she assumes is a nervous gesture and her throat goes very dry, both at how attractive he is and at the idea of fucking up his night like she’s about to. It’s just then that the hostess points in her direction and Cassian’s gaze lands on her, which means Jyn gets to watch as his polite but guarded look melts into something more familiar and affectionate and relieved. He’s relieved to see her , she thinks, incredulously, even as she waves at him. Did he think she would stand him up? Did he think he imagined their entire phone call?

“Hi,” he says, a little breathlessly, as he reaches the table.

Jyn stands abruptly from her seat, for lack of anything better to do and leans into him at the same moment he leans towards her. She has a brief moment of panic where she thinks he might kiss her—not that a kiss from him would be a bad thing, generally speaking, but she would feel guilty under the circumstances—and so she swerves gracelessly to the left. Her mouth collides with the side of his face as he wraps an arm around her in a loose hug and she realizes, belatedly, that she completely misjudged what he was going for. She doesn’t allow herself to linger in the embrace, even if she kind of wants to, and pulls back quickly, before she can get used to the warm weight of his hand on her back.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” he says, when she’s dropped back into her seat and he’s busied himself with removing his jacket and scarf.

Jyn resists the urge to laugh at that, knowing he’s being completely earnest. He was two minutes late, that’s nothing, she wants to say, but she waves off his apology without a word.

“Did you have any trouble finding the place?” She asks, instead.

“No, not at all,” he says, as he sits across from her. “The train was just delayed.”

“As always.”

He smiles at that, leaning forward on his elbows on the table, and it makes Jyn wistful for the version of tonight where they are just out to dinner for fun. In that version, the only thing she has to be nervous about is if they’ll go home together at the end of the night. In reality, she knows there’s no chance of that happening, but some part of her longs for it. She wishes she’d called him two months ago, back when things were simple—or, at least, simpler—and asked him to this same restaurant. It could have been nice, feeling these nerves for all the good reasons instead of why she has them now.

“So, I was—”

“Have you—?”

They both speak at the same time and Cassian’s eyes crinkle at the corners when he laughs, which is so unfairly cute that Jyn can’t even laugh in return at their shared mishap.

“You go,” he says.

“I, uh—” Jyn starts to say, but she’s interrupted by the waiter returning with her drink and asking if he can get Cassian anything.

“Just water, thank you.”

“Are you sure?” Jyn asks before she can stop herself. She doesn’t know why she thinks adding alcohol to this situation will help, but she also thinks he might want to drink once he hears her news. “It’s my treat.”

Cassian looks puzzled by this, but his features clear after a second. “I’m good, really,” he says, before turning back to the waiter. “Thank you.”

The waiter hurries off, leaving them alone again. Cassian opens his menu and begins scanning through the first section, before looking up at her with obvious concern.

“Do you already know what you’re getting?” He asks.

“Oh,” Jyn says, flattening her palm on her unopened menu. “Yes, but just because I always get the same thing here. Their pad see ew is really good.”

Cassian nods, as if this is fascinating information to him. “I’m going to have to read through the menu, unfortunately,” he says, apologetically.

She makes an exaggerated hand gesture that is meant to bat his apology away but in truth conveys absolutely nothing. “Take your time,” she says, to clarify.

Cassian reading his menu gives Jyn some time to regroup and also to note that he is, in fact, wearing a navy blue cable knit sweater over what looks to be a light blue button-up. The sleeves aren’t rolled up to his elbows, which is disappointing, but she assumes that’s because it’s freezing outside. He’s also biting his lip as he concentrates on reading, which is simultaneously very cute and completely hot. She realizes she’s been staring at him intently half a second after Cassian does.

“What’s the matter?” He asks, looking embarrassed.

“No, it’s—nothing!”

“I should be making conversation, shouldn’t I?”

“No, don’t worry about that,” Jyn says, hurriedly. It’s not like she can just tell him she was staring because he’s stupidly handsome. “I just got lost in thought for a second.”

“Do you come here often?” He asks, completely sincerely and Jyn laughs before she can stop herself.

“Sorry,” she says, when she’s regained her self-control. “That’s just such a line. I know you didn’t mean it that way, but—”

Before she can finish her sentence or Cassian can defend himself like he clearly wants to, something lands at their feet with a thump and a rattle. Cassian leans down to retrieve it and returns with one of those baby toys with different bits that all make different noises or have different textures. It’s done up entirely in bright primary colors and seems to have a smiling puppy’s head at the very top. A screech from the table behind them alerts Jyn to the item’s true owner.

Cassian twists in his chair to offer the toy back to a chunky toddler with a mop of riotous curls who’s sitting in a high chair at the next table over. “I take it this is yours,” he says, very seriously to the baby, who squawks delightedly at the sight of the toy.

The child’s mother, sitting with an older child on the other side of the table, gives Cassian a grateful smile. “Can you say ‘thank you?’” She asks in a pleasant voice. The baby just gurgles in response, leaving the woman to thank Cassian herself.

Cassian turns back to Jyn with an amused smile on his face that honestly overwhelms her. It’s rare to see him smile without a hint of self-deprecation or irony to it. If she put her mind to it, she could probably count the number of genuine smiles like that she’s seen on one hand. He’s almost always pulling them back, reining them in, for whatever reason.

“Anyway,” he says, turning his full attention back to her. “You were making fun of me for using a generic line on you.”

“I wasn’t,” Jyn says, and can’t help smiling herself. “I knew that’s not what you meant. You were really just asking if I come here often.”

“Yes, I was.”

“I do, to answer your question. It’s my favorite place for takeout, when I’m too lazy to cook, which is almost always.”

“You don’t eat in? With this ambience?” He asks, gesturing around the place.

“Hey, don’t judge their decor,” she fires back, more defensive than she would have expected herself to be. There are a million string lights everywhere, and the walls are painted a very aggressive shade of red, and the owners decorate to the nines for every single holiday, which means there’s hearts and lace and chubby Cupids wielding arrows everywhere for Valentine’s Day. “It’s fun.”

“Very,” Cassian agrees, with one of his small cryptic smiles. It makes Jyn remember with sudden clarity how fun it was to kiss him, to feel that smile against her lips.

She shakes herself out of it, focusing on the present. “I suppose your favorite restaurant is very chic and minimalist with its decor,” she says.

“No, I wouldn’t say that,” he replies, giving the matter some consideration. “Honestly, I don’t go out for dinner a lot. I prefer to cook at home.”

“Well, I’ve been to your apartment,” she says, trying not to feel inadequate by comparison. “It’s pretty chic.”

It doesn’t occur to her what she’s said until after the words are out of her mouth. She obviously just meant that she’s been over to visit Bodhi before, but when Cassian gives her a surprised look in response, she realizes she has also unwittingly brought to mind the time they hooked up. It’s not an artful segue by any means, but she does need to get this over with and stop pretending they can just sit here and have a nice meal together, like normal people.

“Actually, that reminds me,” she begins, bracing herself for how much this is going to suck, “there’s something I wanted to tell you—”

Their neighbor at the next table chooses that perfect moment to toss their horrible mutated puppy toy at Jyn’s feet again and it breaks her concentration. Cassian, who’d been watching her and listening intently a second beforehand, spots the toy on the ground and leans to pick it up again before Jyn can even think to react. Instead of just turning around and handing it over again, he actually gets up and goes over to the baby this time, crouching in front of the high chair.

“You know, if you keep throwing this around, you might lose it,” he says, very solemnly, to the child. “Somebody might kick it into the kitchen. My friend over there might accidentally take it home with her.” The baby swivels around to look at Jyn and smiles at her with drooly gums that do nothing to make her want a child of her own. She smiles weakly in response.

“Anything could happen,” Cassian continues, drawing the baby’s attention back to him. “I don’t want you to lose it. Your mother doesn’t want you to lose it. You don’t want to lose it.” He’s saying all of this with that faux-serious tone people adopt with children, as if they’re grown-ups who understand what’s going on but also with a slight sing-song lilt to it. “So, no more throwing, okay?”

The baby shrieks and reaches for the toy, which Cassian pulls just slightly out of reach, delighting the child further.

“Do we have an agreement?” He asks, holding out his hand, as if the child is a small businessman he’s making a deal with. The baby smacks a drool-soaked palm against Cassian’s in response, which makes him smile. “Very good.”

As he stands up, the child’s mother says something quietly to him, which Cassian waves off nonchalantly. He turns and drops back into his seat across from Jyn as if nothing has happened.

“Sorry about that,” he says. “You were saying…”

Jyn’s throat feels completely dry and speaking feels beyond her abilities at the moment, so she reaches for her drink before she replies. “You have a way with kids, huh?” She says, gesturing to their friends at the next table.

“Oh, that?” He asks, shrugging it off. “I guess so. I helped a lot with my sister when she was that age. My grandmother tells me I was so obsessed with babies that my parents had another kid just so I’d stop bugging them about it.”

“Huh,” Jyn says, trying to sound noncommittal while she’s panicking internally. God, of course he loves kids. Why would this be easy?

Cassian, however, is oblivious to her distress, looking back over his shoulder at the family at the next table. “I’m really excited to have a bunch of little ones running around soon,” he says, out of nowhere, and Jyn’s stomach turns over.

She’s standing before she can even form a thought. She doesn’t know what she’s doing, but she knows she can’t stay here. The sudden movement draws Cassian’s attention back to her and he looks up at her in alarm.

“Jyn, are you okay?”

“I, uh,” she says, struggling for a lie that will get her out of there fast enough. “I think I left the oven on at my place, actually. So I have to go, right now.”

“Oh,” Cassian says, looking concerned and maybe even a little disappointed. “Well, I can go with you, or walk you out, if you—” He goes to put his coat on and Jyn throws her arm out to stop him, which just alarms him further.

“No need,” she says, half-frantic. She fishes her wallet out of her coat pocket and takes a few bills out, flinging them at the table in her urgency. “For my drink.”

“Oh, there’s no—”

“I’ll, uh—I’ll call you,” Jyn says, already rushing for the door. It doesn’t occur to her until she’s halfway to her apartment that she said the exact same thing the last time she ran out on him too.

#rebelcaptain #jyn erso #cassian andor #rogue one #stack the deck verse #obvious child #obvious child au #star wars #abortion #abortion tw #pregnancy #pregnancy tw #my fic #my writing #anyway here's wonderwall #otp: built on hope #otp: your mother and i have been together ever since

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xxx-cat-xxx · 5 years

Text

ghosts

Here are some post-Civil War team feelings and a bit of whump. Thanks to @whumphoarder for beta reading ❤

__________________________

Sometimes, Tony remembers.

Tonight he lies awake in his bed after Rhodey forced him out of the workshop at 3am, away from the prototype for his leg braces. Tony didn’t put up a fight because the guilt was still fresh and sharp and seeing his best friend navigate his wheelchair through the messy workshop was making him pliant, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to be able to rest.

Sleep evades him, but the memories are there. Pepper, every night, making his heart ache in rhythm with his fractured sternum. His parents, dead in the car with smoke still rising from the broken engine. Siberia and the wormhole and Rhodey dropping out of the sky, falling and falling and falling until Tony’s body hits the mattress and he opens his eyes with a gasp.

And then there’s the team. Sometimes, the ghosts come back to keep him company.

The plan was for Natasha to infiltrate an NSA division suspected to be running an undercover espionage programme with illegally obtained citizens’ data. She was supposed to go in, disguised with a photostatic veil as the lead technology officer, copy the evidence, and leave after the shift was over. Tony and Steve would be waiting outside with her ride home, ready to interfere in case something went wrong.

Which it did, because, unbeknownst to their intel and definitely against the rules of the department she worked for, said technology officer was having an affair with one of her colleagues, who’d realised something was off when she tried to slide her hand into Nat’s pants in a storage room and in turn got punched in the face.

Nat was held, drugged, and interrogated. She didn’t spill, of course. Her cover didn’t get blown until half a day later, when Tony and Steve burst through the door to rescue her. She even managed to transfer enough of the evidence to Tony’s servers to build a solid case against the NSA division before she got blasted, so from that perspective, the mission was a success.

A success that came with a price, however, Tony thought as he leaned back in the pilot seat, having just maneuvered them out of the danger zone. The adrenaline was fading away to leave behind exhaustion and a pulsing pain in his hand.

“Not again...” he muttered as he carefully removed the armour on his right arm to reveal a swollen, possibly broken wrist. He’d had to retract his gauntlet to open the digitally coded lock to the facility and he’d paid the price for forgetting to put it back on five minutes later when an overzealous security guard kicked him in the arm. He should really look into cloning again—an extra arm would definitely come in handy.

Behind him, Nat was throwing up into a basin, so quietly and efficiently that it almost looked like she was in control of what was happening. She was pale and sweaty, the stuff they’d drugged her with clearly not agreeing with her system. But the real sign she was still a bit out of it was that she didn’t protest at all when Steve sat close beside her and placed a hand on her back while she heaved.

“Don’t redecorate my quinjet, Romanov,” Tony said flippantly, swiverling his chair around. “I just finally got the blood out of the upholstery from your run-in with the Frankfurt cartel.”

Still retching into the bowl, Nat flipped him off without even looking up. Tony noticed she was trembling slightly.

He got up and moved over to the lockers, limping a bit―(when did that happen?)―as he went, and fetched the threadbare blanket Bruce used to wrap around himself after de-hulking. Steve bit his lip when Tony draped the tattered thing over Nat’s shoulders and he knew they were all thinking the same thing.

The absence of Bruce and Clint was almost tangible. Steve tended to be the one to get their spirits up before the missions, and Tony would chatter continuously during the fight, but afterwards it had usually been Clint who’d take care of them all in his own, inscrutable way. He was especially good at building the team up again after things went wrong, taking the blame off each of their individual shoulders and distributing it evenly across all of them.

“Not your fault, Cap. Can’t save ‘em all,” he’d remind the soldier after a particularly rough mission. Or he’d thrust a jammed weapon into Tony’s hands and tell him to stop brooding and make himself useful. “Don’t give me that emo look,” he’d tell Nat whenever she was sulking. “We talked about this.” And nobody would ever know what it was that the two had talked about, but a bit of tension would fall off her shoulders.

Tony wonders, sometimes, whether they’d instinctively known that Bruce’s departure and Clint’s retirement would mark the beginning of the end of the Avengers. Whether somewhere deep inside, all of them were counting the days they had left.

“What happened to your wrist?” Steve broke the silence.

“He frac’ured it again,” Nat said hoarsely, slurring her words just a little. “Will never learn to put that glove back on.”

Tony laughed.

Their first stop was at the compound’s medical bay where they were told that Nat couldn’t do anything more than sleep off the effects of the drug and make sure to stay hydrated. Tony’s wrist, to everyone’s surprise, was only badly sprained this time, and they let him go after bandaging it.

He was starting to feel the effects of the fight by then, the beginning soreness of his muscles and annoying pain from all his bruises. Exhaustion was clinging heavily to his limbs; he hadn’t slept the previous night, busy going through the intel and testing the comms to make sure the mission would be successful before leaving at daybreak.

Nat also looked like she could use a bed, unsteady on her feet and even less talkative than usual, but there was a silent understanding between Steve and Tony not to leave her alone in a dark room while the drugs were still messing with her mind. They all had their own ghosts, and even if she didn’t talk about them, they weren’t about to let Nat fight hers on her own.

They gathered in the common room where JARVIS had already ordered Thai and pizza, as well as ginger lemonade to combat the nausea. Bruce would have made a fresh jug himself if he were here, Tony caught himself thinking, and quickly shook his head to get rid of the melancholic feelings that threatened to overtake him.

He helped himself to rice and curry and sat down heavily in the armchair, switching on the TV and flipping through the channels as he ate. Nat held her head tipped back against the sofa, still pale, eyes half-closed. She was alternating between taking small bites from a piece of Margherita and sipping on her lemonade. Next to her, Steve was devouring the pizza like his life depended on it, but Tony was long past joking about the man’s increased need for calories.

“Who wants a drink?” Tony asked over the background noise of a news anchor announcing breaking news on the NSA data leak.

“Daiquiri,” Nat ordered, and it was a testimony to what they’d all been through together that no one questioned her ability to stomach rum a mere hour and a half after puking her guts up into a plastic bowl.

Tony pushed himself up from the chair and made it about two seconds on his feet before the headrush made him stumble blindly into the table.

"Whoa..." he breathed out at the same moment that Steve said "Steady" and jumped up to help.

“Think I really need that drink,” Tony commented, leaning on the larger man for support and rubbing his eyes with a groan until the haze cleared.

“I think you really need to sleep,” Steve scolded in his best worried-dad voice. Tony snorted and gazed up at the other man until he sighed and gave in. “Okay, I’ll get them. Sit down before you fall over.”

Tony gave him the prettiest smile he could muster. “That’s what I like to hear. Scotch for me, please.”

And so it ended. Nat had fallen asleep against Steve’s shoulder (or, having allowed herself to fall, to be precise; they all knew it was a gesture of trust and nothing that happened accidentally. Tony was stretched out in the armchair, idly swirling the ice in his scotch glass. Pink Floyd was playing in the background, and Steve was subconsciously tapping his foot along with the rhythm while finishing off the Thai leftovers.

The two men shared a smile across the coffee table—briefly, casually—and then Steve gently shifted Nat to lie down on the couch where she immediately curled up like a cat between the pillows, her dark red curls falling loosely over her face. He covered her with a blanket and threw another one over to Tony, who set down his glass just in time to catch it.

Steve left for a bit and returned with a novel and a cup of tea. Tony turned up the music a few notches and slowly let his eyes slip shut. He already knew that they’d all still be there come morning.

Tony isn’t sure why it’s this mission that comes back to him that night. It’s nothing special, nothing even particularly successful—just a bunch of injuries and comfort food, typical for how they used to operate.

He wonders whether Steve knew, back then. Whether Nat had already picked her side.

If anyone were to ask him now, he’d say he’s angry—furious, even—because that’s easier to deal with than the sadness that comes along with betrayal. And what he’d never say is that he misses them.

He doesn’t.

He really doesn’t.

(He’s always been such a good liar.)

Tony blinks into the darkness and their faces disappear. The memories might fade by morning, but the ghosts are here to stay.

#avengers team fic #tony stark #natasha romanov #steve rogers #whump

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strongsassysexysloane · 5 years

Text

Take me for a Ride, Jack...6

The day is spent trying to cope with one hell of a hangover headache while vacuuming, mopping and doing a load of laundry. You and Jack casually text back and forth throughout the day before she says she's going out for a bit and will pick you up in the morning. Jamie actually went into work for a short shift because someone called in sick. As an apology for ditching the chores again she brings home your favourite Thai food for dinner and you spend another quiet night in binge watching a tv show together.

You try so hard to go to sleep at a reasonable hour so you can get up in time in the morning but your mind is racing with anticipation for tomorrow. Thankfully, at some point your mind decided to give in and you fell asleep.

You just hop out of the shower the following morning, start toweling yourself off when you hear the scrap of a chair across the wooden floor, followed by. "There's a beautiful woman on a really nice bike who just pulled up." Jamie, your sister, shouts from the front window of the apartment.

You freeze, check your phone, Jack's early. "Ok, I'll be out in a minute." You reply, but your gut drops when you hear the front door open.

"Hey, come on up." Jamie has gone outside to the landing and yelled down to Jack and invited her in. You apartment is on the second floor.

"Hey!" You shout, frantically drying yourself off before your sister says or does anything stupid like show Jack baby photos of you.

You hear mumbling as you slip into your clothes and do something half decent with your hair. There's laughter from the living room and you can't decide if that's a good thing or something to make you feel even more nervous, if that was possible.

Taking one last look in the bathroom mirror before walking out into the living space, you still need to put shoes on and grab your bag but you need to check on Jamie and Jack first. You walk in to the kitchen to see Jamie and Jack sitting at the breakfast bar chatting. Jack looks up at you with a huge smile as soon as you enter.

"Dam, I was just getting to the story about when you were thirteen and you had a huge crus-"

"I will shoot you." You growl and turn your attention to Jack, she was grinning wildly at the interaction between you and your sister, her curiosity peaked by your reaction to a possible embarrassing memory.

"Looks like we still have time, shoes much?" Jamie teases.

"Morning Jack." You ignore her, focusing on the beautiful woman sitting in your apartment. "Want a coffee?" You walk over and lean on the counter opposite them.

"No thanks, was going to grab one on the way, I know this nice little bakery on the way out of town." She leans closer when you do. You fight your natuarl instincts to lean in further for a kiss, it would be so natural and easy but now itsn't the moment. Not when Jamie is staring at you eagerly.

"I'll grab my shoes and bag." You smile leaves your face when you turn to Jamie and glare. "Don't say anything! She a bloody psychologist for christ sakes." You wink back at Jack whos holding in a laugh.

"And she's still going out with you?" Jamie throws the comment and you feel it hit you square in the back of the head as you walk back down the hallway to your bedroom. You've never laced your boots faster.

"Apparently." Jack smirks.

"You mustn't work with her much.." Jamie holds in a laugh but you can hear it in her tone.

"For the love of god. This is why I didn't want you two meeting." You groan but its loud enough because you can hear their laughter.

"See how I didn't let that happen." Jamie replies.

"I'm moving out!" You shout, making sure you've got everything in your bag before closing your bedroom door.

"That would mean you have to find a place first?" Jamie is now leaning against the counter by the sink, sipping a cup of tea.

You shrug, opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. "I have alerts on the app to let me know when a new place pops up." You slide the bottle into your bag and turn around to look at Jack.

"That takes the fun out of looking." Jack chimes in.

"By fun you mean, hassle right?" You smile at Jamie but she's too busy looking back and forth between you two. You are standing close enough to Jack that she's reached out her hand and is absentmindedly brushing her fingers up from the inside of your wrist, half way up your forearm and back until she just holds your wrist. You do love that she's a very touchy person, surprised she's letting your sister see it though.

"Have a great day you two." Jamie gives you a cheeky grin and Jack tugs are your arm. You smile at her and you follow her out.

"She seems lovely." Jack comments as you walk down the stairs.

"What did you two talk about before I came out?" You dare to look at Jack's face and are not comforted at all by the sly smile she's giving you.

"Didn't give us enough time other than introductions, really." She squeezes your still joined hands and you step out onto the pathway leading to the street.

"Somehow I doubt that." But you don't push. You'll hopefully get an answer from Jamie when you get back this afternoon.

Jack hands you your helmet, at least you hope youre the only one wearing it, you tighten your backpack over your shoulders, strap your helmet on and slide onto the bike behind Jack, using her shoulder for balance. You give Jamie a wave as you caught her looking out of the living room window and Jack pulls out onto the road.

The bakery was indeed nice and the coffee rivals the diner's quality. It was a nice little bakery tucked away down a side street on the outskirts of DC. You both have a nice large cup of coffee and this time Jack insists on buying you breakfast. You end up having a delicious pastry and she has a choc chip muffin.

"How did you find this place?" You ask as you walk back to the motorbike.

"Person who I got the bike off mentioned a few nice spots, hang outs that they thought I might like. This was one of them." She looks back to the bakery with a smile. "Been here a few times now, nice people."

"You come here to people watch, don't you?" You laugh at her slight guilty expression. "Nothing wrong with people watching, well depending on the people."

Jack drops her head back with a laugh. "Very true. There's some interesting ones that pass through here."

The ride down the coast is nice, this time the wind isn't too cold and you're wearing a few layers instead of just a windbreaker. You guess it's over an hour possibly two since you left the bakery and Jack pulls into a little coastal town. The main street is littered with little shops, you notice a general store, bakery, barber shop, no big department store to be seen. She pulls the bike into a spot infront of a park, you see stalls up ahead and smile.

"Knew you were the farmers market type." You shake your hair out and rest the helmet on your seat. You watch at Jack ties her hair back up in a messy bun, slightly sad that you won't get the chance to run your fingers through it.

"You pout like that when everyone ties up their hair?" Jack teases and you look away shyly, the trees in the park look very interesting all of a sudden.

Jack grabs your helmet with hers and attaches them to the handle bars with a lock. She walks around to where you are and rests her hand on your lower back and you try not the jump at the touch.

"I can wear it down if you like." She is smirking when you look at her again. Your heights are almost the same, although you think she may be slightly taller and you like that for some reason. She presses more into your back and you take a step towards her.

"Completely up to you." You look down at her lips and snap back to her eyes but she's seen the movement. She brings her other hands up to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.

"Maybe later." She winks and you can't help but laugh. She's just so much fun. You loosen the straps on your small backpack so it rests more in the middle of your back, Jack puts her wallet in it but slots her phone into the back pocket of her jeans. You walk hand in hand towards to markets.

It's not too big, although it looks like there's many people from out of town come down for the drive. It's cute, many local business's have stalls set up, local jerky store, honey from a farm further down the coast, plants, lots of plants, coffee. Jack teases you about getting another cup but when you offer to get her one too she just smiles. You stop at a cheese stall.

"I heard you have a cheese fixation." Jack wraps her arm around your back and holds your hips so you are happily forced to stand closer into her side.

"Who?" It take a beat but the answer comes to you as quickly as the smug grin on Jack's lips. "So much for just introductions." Now the thought of what else Jamie told Jack about you crosses your mind.

"Don't worry Y/N, she didn't tell me anything I didn't already know." She squeezes your hip.

You step forward once the customer in front of you buys their products and walks away. "I haven't talked about my cheese addiction to anyone."

Jack laughs softly. "When you asked for extra cheese on the three cheese pizza other other week on the Kulls case, I kinda figured you liked cheese."

"That place does NOT put three cheeses on their pizza." You grumble and take a sample of sharp cheddar from the offerings in front of you. The man behind the counter smiles at you both but leaves you to your conversation.

"Their pepperoni doesn't have much pepperoni on it either now that I think about it." It was Nick's choice to get pizza after staying back at the office trying to track down this thief late at night. He was the only one impressed by the place and you said he mustn't know many good pizza places but after you had Pizza across Italy nothing really matches up.

"Needless to say we are never ordering from Al's again." You go along sampling all the cheese they have to offer. Asking the man a few questions about time frames on the maturity of the cheddar's and costs. You kick yourself for not bringing a cooler bag. He offers that he's got a few containers and iceblocks for an extra cost. You say you'll come back once you've had a look around and see the disappointment in his eyes as he's probably use to people saying that and just never coming back but he doesn't know your love for good cheese.

You walked further down the isle of stalls hand in hand, nothing really caught your eye, more plant stalls, a couple with knitted things, carved toys and objects, Jack joked saying Gibbs should put together a stall for a market.

"That would involve him actually talking to people." You counter and Jack laughs.

"Very true." She runs her hand over a carving of a nice piece of wood with a landscape carving of a man in a small boat fishing on a lake. It was very intricate and you appreciated the hard work put into it.

The markets soon come to an end but you keep walking, there's a nice walkway that leads long the waterfront. The waves splashing up against the rocks, and you squeeze Jack's hand a little tighter appreciating the walk and the comfortable silence. Your eyes are drawn to the shore and the waves crashing back and forth, it soothes you, your nerves fading with ever crash of the water.

"I'm messy you know." It's barely audible from Jack's lips and when you look at her, her eyes far away, deep in her thoughts, you know you heard her correctly. The mood instantly changed.

You come to a stop and tug her close, your hand still in hers, your other hand comes up tuck a strand of hair behind her ear and you linger there for a moment, running your thumb across her cheek. "You think I'm not? No ones neat and if they claim to be they haven't lived." Jack leans into your touch, the side of her mouth twitching into a faint smile, the only recognition you got that she heard your words.

Jack just stared at you for a while and then her gaze turned to the sea. You let the silence settle between you again, mainly because you were waiting for her to speak, not really sure what else you could say. "Nightmares, terrors, probably some anger issues mixed in there as well not to mention the scars."

"You analysing yourself, Jack?" You try to lighten the sombre mood but she just shrugs, so you squeeze her hand tighter. "If you're trying to scare me off, warn me or somehow psych yourself out of seeing what this is between us, don't. I've over thought this way too many times for whatever reason you have. I'm still here." Something hit home for Jack because she turned back to you and brings her hand up cupping your cheek and bringing you close, close that your foreheads rest against each other.

"It's like you know my thoughts." She huffs, it's dry but she's smiling again and you take that as a victory. "I'd kiss you right now but I don't want this pain to be the memory of that."

You peck her cheek and she laughs now, her smile reaching her eyes and your belly does that flip flop thing. "I'll wait for whenever you think is a good moment and your scars are beautiful. Just like you." Jack hums in reply and the silence is deafening for a short while.

"So I'm going to be the one to kiss first?" She raises her eyebrow and you just smile.

"Depends how long you take." You give her a wink and continue walking. She makes that stomach dropping, heart stopping laugh you love and you swing your joined hands beside you.

#jack sloane x reader #jack sloane #fanfic

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allie1804-fan · 4 years

Text

The Middle of the Road (Chapter 15)

Chapter 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8 , 9, 10, 11 , 12, 13 14

Warnings None

Later that day, they arrived back home – to the relief of a tired Patricia and Karina and the delight of Johnny and Hannah. Keanu and Emily were thrilled themselves to be back with the children too even though they had enjoyed such a special time away.

As Keanu read Johnny his story before bed, he thought back to the day it had stuck him like a thunderbolt that he wanted kids. He’d been reading a 4 year old Jamie (Chloe’s son) a story book that he and Emily had bought him for his birthday when it hit him how joyous that bond and love could be. Shortly after, he’d seen Emily holding another friend’s baby who was just weeks old and a friend had spotted the desire for a baby in both of them. It would be 2 years before Johnny was born after struggles with fertility and then an ectopic pregnancy. At that point, they had basically given up trying but Johnny had been conceived thanks to contraceptive failure and he couldn’t be more grateful for that sickness bug stopping Emily’s pill from working!

Emily was feeling much the same contentment as she fed Hannah. It wouldn’t be too much longer that she would breastfeed her and she cherished it as well as feeling the relief in her breasts! She had pumped a little over their break to relieve the pressure and keep her supply going so she was full again by the time of the evening feed.

When they regrouped in the kitchen later, Keanu was ordering some Thai food for a take-away and they spent the evening planning the Spring and Summer ahead. They would keep their secret to themselves until her birthday a couple of week’s later. Karina had already agreed earlier that afternoon to cook the family meal for Emily’s birthday – all Keanu needed to do was find the perfect engagement ring and birthday present to go alongside it.

Day to day life resumed for them and they managed to get into a rhythm which they could stick to easily with the designated days for writing and gym. Chloe still had Johnny one day a week, Keanu had him one full day and both kids for a half day giving Emily her writing time. Meanwhile, he was at the gym two mornings and doing other meetings in-between. One of those meeting was with Hannah Johnson to review her work on the script and let her know how grateful he was for starting the healing process by talking to Emily. He let her into the secret on their engagement – she was thrilled for them both and told him his happiness was certainly shining through.

The night before her birthday, Keanu presented Emily with her engagement ring, a beautiful vintage ruby ring. The central stone was a Burmese ruby flanked by smaller pear cut diamonds all set on a white gold band.

“Wow, my God it’s fabulous, am I gonna need security guards with me if I wear this out?”

“Well don’t wear it when you go to the gym and leave it in the locker!” he joked. It had cost him over $50,000 - nowhere near the millions of some celebrity rings but still a very significant amount.

“Anyway, it has to last, I am never buying another so it had to be a good one!”

“Well I love it, thank you. Shall I wear it tomorrow, when the family arrive?”

“Yes! I want to see if anyone has ‘spidey’ senses and spots it!”

As it was, his mother did spot it but she didn’t spoil the surprise. She whispered to him in the kitchen when they were alone briefly but didn’t give the game away and let him make the announcement after dinner when he raised a birthday toast to Emily.

“So thank you Karina for a delicious meal and thank you all for coming. People usually celebrate the big numbers for birthdays but Emily was a bit busy baking a baby this time last year! So, on her 41st birthday, I’d like to raise a toast to Emily, the most beautiful mother to my children, my partner and my future wife!”

A gasp went round the table.

“Show them the ring Emily” Patricia encouraged, revealing that she’d seen it earlier but had kept quiet so as not to ruin the announcement. Everyone was surprised and delighted about the engagement – most had been aware there had been some tension of late and were glad this seemed to have been resolved. Keanu gave Emily a necklace matching her engagement ring for her birthday, a pear shape ruby on a white gold chain - she would be able to wear it for the wedding. The family heard that the wedding would be a small affair in their own garden with just family and a few friends and would take place in about 3 months time so that they could have a short honeymoon before Jonathan turned 2.

When the day came, the house was filled with the fragrance of flowers, Emily had her wish of an abundance of cottage garden flowers that would not be out of place in a Hardy novel. For the ceremony her dress was a simple cream tea length design with a wrap over bodice and asymmetrical layered skirt while Keanu wore a beige suit. They each had more casual clothes for later in the evening - their children were there at the party so they were not keen to be in their finery for the whole event.

Their honeymoon was 5 days in Taormina Sicily, where Jonathan had been conceived. The children would be looked after by their new nanny, Maria, who they’d recruited a month before. Emily hadn’t been planning to work again before Johnny’s 2nd birthday but her agent had contacted her a couple of months earlier about a script that needed re-writes because the female voice just wasn’t sounding authentic. He knew this was something that she could help with so had got in touch. The boost to her confidence about getting back to work was huge and Keanu encouraged her to go for it even though it was earlier than planned and they had the wedding coming. Luckily their search for a nanny wasn’t prolonged and they had confidence in her having the children for their short honeymoon break.

The crystal clear turquoise waters, the wonderful food and the luxury of the Hotel San Domenico gave the two a wonderful relaxing break before they would return for the mayhem of a 2 year old’s birthday party and a big event in September for Keanu - both his 60th birthday and an honorary award at the Toronto International Film Festival. 2024 was certainly proving to be a big year for them.

@penwieldingdreamer @fortheloveoffanfic @kindainlovewithkeanu @ladyreapermc @witty-wallflower @gatsbynouvel @bitchyslut99 @keanureevesisbae @omg-imagine @iworshipkeanureeves @fics-not-tragedies @ficsnroses @kindainlovewithkeanu @paperplanesandwallflowers

#keanu reeves fanfic #keanu #keanu reeves fanfiction #keanu reeves #keanu reeves ofc

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carry-the-sky · 5 years

Text

these heavy words, your open heart

summary

“You told me once that I was honest. That I don’t lie to you. But the hospital—you asked me to start over, and I said I didn’t want that.”

Karen sucks in a breath. Frank’s eyes are still on her, wide and bright. It’s the most vulnerable she’s ever seen him look.

“I lied,” he says.

chapter one | chapter two | chapter three | chapter four

“Don’t do that,” Curt says. “Don’t put this on her. She’s a grown-ass woman, she can make her own decisions. This is about you. What do you want?”

For as long as Frank can remember, the answer was this—to make those responsible for his suffering pay. He never thought beyond that. The city needed a punisher, so that’s what he became.

But now—he thinks about the first time he met Karen, handcuffed to a hospital bed, how she shoved the photo of his family in his face and told him they both wanted the same thing. He knew right then that she was different. She was the first person who saw him, and not a pile of crime-scene photos, or a dead family. Not a monster. She saw him.

“I want to be with her,” Frank says, and the confession leaves him feeling lighter than he has in years.

Curt smiles wide. “Then go get her, man.”

Frank spends the next day and a half in a daze. His reunion with Karen feels like a dream, a kaleidoscope of moments he replays over and over in his head like he’s afraid he’ll lose them if he doesn’t. He expected her to be angry—hell, he would’ve deserved it—and instead she held his hand, told him he was worth more than a life of punishment and war. Frank knows he sure as shit isn’t, he knows that—but the thing is, when Karen was saying it, he believed her. As long as he’s known her, she’s always had the uncanny ability to look at someone, truly look at them, peel all the bullshit away until what’s left is what’s real.

But this—this is what’s real: He thinks about his last words to her at the hospital, how callously he’d pushed her aside, and he feels sick to his core. The usual excuses he makes for himself—I was protecting her, I was protecting myself—fall away, until all that’s left is shame. He hurt her, and meant to. He did that.

“So you were an asshole,” Curt says the next time they meet for lunch. “Wasn’t the first time, probably won’t be the last.”

“That your expert opinion, Dr. Phil?” Frank snarks, swiping a hand over his jaw to hide his smile.

Curt smirks at him over his french dip. “Deflection. Classic. Look, Frank—self-awareness is half the battle. You know you messed up. What matters now is how you choose to fix it.”

“Yeah? What if it can’t be fixed?”

Curt stares at him for a moment. “Nah,” he finally says, shaking his head, “nah, man, I’m not buying it. That sounds like an excuse to me, an easy way out. The Frank Castle I knew wasn’t a chickenshit, but hey, first time for everything, I guess—”

Frank shakes his head. “Unbelievable, man.”

“Hey, you brought it up,” Curt says. “I’m just here for the food.”

They eat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Frank polishes off his sandwich and orders a second cup of coffee, trying his best to ignore the swell of gratitude rising in his chest. He and Curt take the piss out of each other, but the man is family. He’s always been there, always had Frank’s back when others wouldn’t. Even before he hung up the vest, Frank knew that Curt’s was the first bridge he needed to mend.

It’s not just Curt, though. Everyone he’s reached out to—David and Sarah, Madani, the kid, Karen—they’ve all taken him back, and it knocks the wind out of him each time. Their kindness, their willingness to forgive—it’s staggering. It’s more than he deserves.

He says as much to Curt, who laughs in between bites of his potato salad.

“You know, for a smart guy, you’re pretty stupid, Frank. You’ve got people who care about you here, and you’re trying to—what, balance the scales? That’s not how friendship works, brother. You don’t keep score.”

Frank grips his coffee cup to keep his fingers still. “So, what—it’s all good, now? Everything I’ve done, all the shit I’ve put you through—boom, forgiven, just like that?”

“It’s not all about you, Frank,” Curt says. “No one but you gives two shits about what you think you deserve. That’s not your call. It’s mine, and Karen’s, and anyone else who decides to make the same call. We chose to give you another shot.”

Frank swigs his coffee, more to hide his face than anything. Bastard’s too damn good at his job.

“You know, I met her,” Curt says, pushing back from the table slightly.

Frank’s heart kicks. “Who—Karen?”

“Yep. She reached out to talk to me about all the shit that’s been going down at the VA office. I didn’t put two and two together until later—looked up some of her other articles, and that’s when I recognized the name.” He fixes Frank with a knowing stare. “She’s one hell of a reporter. I can see why you like her.”

“Christ’s sake, Curt, we in high school again?”

“I don’t know, man, you tell me.”

Frank turns his words over in his head before responding. “After I lost Maria—that was it, you know? She was everything—I never thought about anyone else. Didn’t want to. And now—it feels like part of me’s buried in the ground with her and the other part’s sitting right here. I don’t know what to do with that, Curt.”

“You said it yourself—this is you, now. This is how it is. And Karen has her own shit, like we all do. We’re all just pieces, Frank. That’s all life is. You just gotta figure out how your pieces fit with hers.”

Frank snorts. “You come up with that yourself?”

“Swiped it from a book I’m reading. Pretty good, right? Just the right amount of bullshit.” Curt leans forward, elbows on the table. “It’s simple, Frank—do you want to be with Karen or not?”

“I—” Frank sputters.

“C’mon, man, answer the question.”

“What do you—” Frank’s jaw clenches, and he swallows hard before continuing. “What do you want me to say, Curt? What about what Karen wants? You think she wants—this? All my baggage and bullshit, how is that fair to her—”

“Don’t do that,” Curt says. “Don’t put this on her. She’s a grown-ass woman, she can make her own decisions. This is about you. What do you want?”

For as long as Frank can remember, the answer was this—to make those responsible for his suffering pay. He never thought beyond that. The city needed a punisher, so that’s what he became.

“I want to be with her,” Frank says, and the confession leaves him feeling lighter than he has in years.

Curt smiles wide. “Then go get her, man.”

He calls her on his way home. It rings three or four times before she picks up, her voice light and warm even over the phone.

“Hi, Frank.”

His stomach twists. “Hey. Didn’t think you’d recognize the number.”

“You’re in my phone as Pete. I figured I’d put you in my contacts now that you have a real cell.”

Frank grins. “Yeah, guess it was about time for me to graduate from the burners.”

“About time,” she agrees, and he thinks he can her the smile in her voice.

“Hey,” he says, “I won’t keep you, but—are you free tonight?”

“Oh, tonight? Um—” she pauses. “Foggy invited me to a New Year’s party, but I was kind of on the fence about going. I can definitely get out of it.”

Embarrassment surges through him, hot and fast. Since losing his family, he hasn’t paid much attention to holidays—this time of year just dredges up painful memories, things he’d much rather stay buried. He didn’t even realize that today was New Year’s Eve. Of course Karen has plans—she has a life, friends, a constellation of things that don’t involve him.

“Frank?” Karen’s voice pulls him from his thoughts. “You still there?”

“Yeah,” he says, “yeah, I’m here. Listen, if you’re busy, that’s fine. I don’t want to pull you away from anything—”

“Trust me, you’d be doing me a favor. I love Foggy and Marci, but their parties can be over-the-top. Like I said, I was already thinking about not going. I’ll just tell Foggy I’m coming down with something. He’s a huge germaphobe.”

Frank’s clutching the phone so hard to his ear that his fingers are starting to ache. “If you’re sure—”

“More than sure. What did you have in mind?”

He shows up at Karen’s place a little after eight. He feels more than a little conspicuous walking down the length of her hallway—what if her suspicious neighbor is home?—but all of that dissolves as soon as Karen opens her door.

“Any luck?” she says.

He hefts a brown paper sack. “That Thai place on 7th was open. I also brought booze.”

“In that case—” Karen swings the door wide, smiling.

Her apartment is exactly the same. Maybe a bit more lived in, but that’s good. He pictures his own place, sparsely furnished but functional, and wonders what Karen would think of it.

“Bottle opener’s on the counter,” she says, closing the door shut behind him and moving towards the kitchen. She says it so casually, like this isn’t only the second time he’s ever been in her apartment. It stirs something up in his gut.

He opens the beers while Karen digs into the takeout bag. They settle onto her couch to eat, and she turns the TV on, flipping through the channels until she gets to the live broadcast of the ball drop.

“I know it’s stupid,” she says, hitting the mute button, “but we always used to watch it when I was growing up. Just one of those family traditions I can’t seem to shake.”

He’s not sure what to say to that. Even though he’s known her for a while, Frank still feels like he doesn’t really—know her. She knows his story, got down in the guts of it, everything that happened to him and his family. But he’s never asked her about hers. Not once.

“Is your family in the city?” he asks, and instantly knows he’s said the wrong thing. Her face darkens, eyes darting to her hands.

“No,” she says quietly. “My dad’s back in Vermont. That’s where I grew up. I came to New York after my brother died.”

Frank feels the breath swoop from his lungs, like he’s been kicked in the chest. All this time—all this time he’s been dragging his ghosts around, leaning on her for support, unloading all of his shit onto her, and he never considered she might have ghosts of her own. He remembers standing by the water with her, the ache in her voice when she told him that life is just people fighting not to be alone. She hadn’t just been talking about him.

Their conversation in the hospital echoes in his ears—What if there’s a better way, what if you and I figure it out together? You could choose to love someone else, instead of another war.

I don’t want that.

For a second, just a second, Frank lets the shame wash over him like the tide, all-consuming. He lets himself drown in it.

You know you messed up, Frank. What matters now is how you choose to fix it.

“Karen, hey—” he shifts so he’s facing her. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know—”

“I never told you,” she says softly.

“I never asked,” he corrects.

“Frank—”

“No, Karen—” he sets his beer on the coffee table and gathers her hands in his. “You’ve been in my corner from the beginning, you’ve been there with me through—all of it. I was so wrapped up in my own shit, I never asked you about yours. I’m sorry.”

Karen squeezes his hands. “I appreciate that. But we were in each other’s corners, Frank. You saved my life—twice. That’s not nothing.”

“Still. I never asked.”

She sighs. “What do you want to know? I can’t say my life story makes for very good holiday conversation—”

“Anything,” he says. “Or nothing, whatever you want. Either way, I’m here.”

They eat their takeout, and Karen talks. She tells him what it was like growing up in Vermont, how easy everything was before her mom got sick, then the diner, and her dad losing himself in it. She talks about the first time she used, skipping class with her boyfriend at the time to do a line under the bleachers.

There’s so much he wants to ask, but he lets her talk without interrupting. The picture she’s painting is helping to fill in some gaps, like puzzle pieces slotting together. He never doubted who she was at her core, strong and stubborn and unflinchingly fearless—now he knows why.

When she tells him about Kevin, her voice changes. He was an honor roll student, he taught himself to play guitar, he was the only one at the diner who could make the burgers taste like something other than cardboard—there’s sadness there beneath the surface, but it’s not bitter, not like when she spoke about her dad. All Frank can hear is a sister who misses her brother.

They’re both on their third beer by the time Karen gets to the accident.

“I was high,” she says, her voice flat. “And I’d been drinking. I flipped the car. I killed him.”

Frank’s heart is in his throat. He wants to reach out and hold her, take all the hurt and anguish that’s radiating off her and ball it up tight, absorb it from her skin like blood from a wound. He’s not sure he trusts himself to speak, but he forces the words out anyways. “You were a kid, Karen.”

She blinks. “I killed him. God, Frank—” she sinks her fingers into her hair, hands bracketing her face. “I sometimes think I’ve come to terms with it, but I haven’t. Shit like that—you’re not supposed to come back from it. You’re supposed to live with it.”

“Look, I get it,” he says. “I do. I’d rather live with the pain than work through it. Because I don’t deserve that, right? I don’t deserve to heal and move on. But—a friend told me recently that it’s not up to us to decide what we deserve. Life’s a shitstorm, yeah? Make a mess, clean it up—that’s all you can do.” He gives her arm a gentle squeeze. “It doesn’t define who you are, Karen. It doesn’t.”

Karen smiles sadly. “I’d like to believe that. I really would.” She stares at the TV for a few moments, the light from the screen flickering across her face. Then she shakes her head a little and turns to look at him. “So, that’s me. I’ve never really talked about all of that before. I mean, there are people who know bits and pieces, but—you’re the first to get the extended version. Thanks for listening, Frank.”

“Thanks for trusting me to,” he replies.

Karen’s mouth twists into a smirk. “Well, that got heavy. I’m sure this is exactly what you had in mind when you asked if I was free tonight.”

The pressure in his chest eases a bit. “What, reliving trauma on a first date? Yeah, definitely. I know how to show a woman a good time.”

Karen quirks an eyebrow. “A date, huh?”

Frank’s cheeks flush with a warmth that has nothing to do with his drink, but Karen just laughs. “I’m messing with you,” she says. “But technically, the coffee house was our first date.”

Frank feels his mouth tilt into a smile. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. Coffee, a public place, neither one of us was injured or bleeding—sounds like a date to me.”

There’s something loosening up in his chest, something buoyant and warm. Yeah, maybe it’s the two and a half beers, but he doesn’t think so. This feels like something else.

“Wait—” Karen’s eyes narrow, glancing at something above his head—the clock, he registers, as he follows her gaze. “Wow, it’s midnight already? How long have we been talking?”

He was thinking the same thing. It feels like he just got here.

Karen’s head swivels back to the TV—but the ball has already dropped. The camera is panning over the crowd, confetti and streamers and people wearing oversized 2020 glasses. “We missed it,” she says, but she doesn’t sound disappointed. “That’s okay, I have a better idea. Follow me.”

She leads him up to her building’s roof. It’s chilly, but she’d snagged the blanket from her couch—she wraps it around her shoulders now, staring out at the city. The sound of cheap firecrackers being set off hits them from every direction, and Frank can see some kids waving sparklers in the street.

“Hey,” he says, and Karen looks at him. “Sorry again for pulling you away from your friends tonight. Nelson, he’s—he’s a good guy. Underneath all that corporate lawyer bullshit, I mean. Seems like a good friend.”

“He is.” Karen angles towards him. “I’m happy here, though.”

“What, freezing your ass off?”

She rolls her eyes, and Frank grins. He knows what she actually means. She’s not talking about not her apartment, or the rooftop. She’s talking about here, as in—the two of them, now. This exact moment in time. I’m happy here, with you.

They’ve moved even closer together—Karen’s arm brushes against his, and that simple touch enough to send sparks skittering up his spine. Her gaze softens, slips down to his mouth and then up again. She reaches out to rest a hand on his arm, lips curving like a new moon.

“Happy New Year, Frank,” she says, soft and low. She’s close enough for him to see the birthmark on her cheek, to feel her breath against his skin as she exhales.

Frank is very aware of his own breathing, his heartbeat thundering under his ribs. Every nerve ending in his body aches to close the distance between them, and he wants to. Fuck, he wants to. But he’s also scared out of his goddamn mind. They’ve crossed a lot of lines together, but not this. Never this. As long as he’s known her, they’ve had snapshots, a slew of moments that never added up to anything, but now—

Now, there’s time. Frank wants to savor every second of it.

“Happy New Year,” he breathes.

They make their way back to the stairwell that leads down to her building, hands threaded together. He feels every point of contact like his skin’s a live wire. They walk in comfortable silence, stealing furtive glances at each other—Frank’s amazed he makes it down the stairs without falling on his face.

Karen hesitates when they reach her door. There’s a weight to her gaze that wasn’t there before, uncertainty tinged with hope. She opens her mouth to say something, but falters as Frank pulls her into a hug, his arms sliding around her waist. He dips his face into the crook of her shoulder, breathing her in.

“Thanks, Karen,” he says.

She cinches her arms around his shoulders, squeezing tight before letting him go. “See you soon?”

He bobs his head. “Night, Karen.”

He walks away down the hall, only daring to breathe when he hears the scrape of her door shutting behind him. The building is full of sound, music and people laughing and those cheap poppers going off, and then he’s outside. He lingers by the front doors, cranes his neck to look up at her apartment. Warm light glows behind her window, framing the flowers like a painting.

It’s almost painful to pull his gaze away, but he does. He shoves his hands into his pockets and steps onto the sidewalk.

That’s when he hears it—a low whine.

Frank freezes where he stands, tilting his head as he strains to listen. Fireworks crack a short distance away, and then there’s silence. He stays still for a moment. Then—

Another whine, coming from the alley next to Karen’s building. Frank peers down it. The length of the alleyway is tangled in light and shadow from the nearby streetlight, but if he squints he can just make out something huddled by the dumpster. He moves towards it.

It’s a dog. Its face is tucked under one paw, but at the sound of Frank’s footsteps, it lifts its head.

Frank knows that face. It’s the dog, the one he followed on the day he’d seen Karen’s flowers. He recognizes the marking over its eye.

“Hey, you,” he says, squatting. The dog doesn’t growl or make any effort to move away from him, which is how he knows something is wrong. He narrows his eyes, doing a swift visual inspection. The dog’s shaking like a leaf, whether from the cold or something else, he can’t tell.

“Okay,” he says. “Okay, you’re not gonna like this, but I’m gonna check you out, yeah? It’s okay—” he reaches out slowly. The dog’s eyes flick nervously from his hand to his face, until he’s resting his palm flat against its flank. “Easy, easy. That’s a good dog.”

He keeps his hand there for a second. The dog’s eyes never leave his face, and he feels something crack apart inside him. No half-measures, this time. He’s going to do whatever he has to do to make sure it gets out of this okay.

Frank gives the dog a gentle pat, lifting his fingers lightly. Then he slides his hand over its back, down its sides and up towards the shoulders, checking for any sign of injury. Its fur is matted and dirty, but there aren’t any obvious wounds. Frank’s hand drops to the dog’s leg—and that’s when it nips at him, letting out a yelping bark.

Frank doesn’t see any bones jutting out, so he’s reasonably sure nothing’s broken. He stretches his hand again towards the leg in question, and this time, the dog bares its teeth in a warning.

So. Definitely injured. Maybe the bone is fractured, or there’s a torn ligament.

Frank considers his options. Even if it wasn’t a holiday, vet clinics aren’t open this late. There are emergency clinics, but he’d have to somehow get the dog into a cab, and transporting it when he doesn’t know the full extent of the injury might make things worse.

Frank digs for his phone, and punches Karen’s number.

She picks up almost immediately. “Frank?”

“Hey,” he says, looking down at the dog. “I’m sorry to ask but—I need a favor.”

It only takes a few minutes after he hangs up. He’s working out how he’s going to lift the dog without making its pain worse when he hears the sound of a door swinging open behind him.

Karen’s half-jogging towards him, her hair trailing behind her in the thin breeze that’s kicked up. She crouches next to him, and he can see her brandishing a Milk-Bone in one hand.

“Hey, girl,” she says fondly. The dog whimpers in response.

“You sure it’s the same one?” Frank asks, watching as she holds out the treat. The dog licks at her hand, then gingerly bites into the bone.

Karen scratches the dog under its chin as it chews. “I’m sure. She has such distinct markings. I first saw her maybe half a week ago, right here in the alley. I called animal control, but I don’t think they ever came. Then I saw her again the same day we met for coffee.”

Frank’s thoughts turn to the first time he’d met the dog, and what transpired afterwards. “Yeah?”

Karen pivots to look at him, hearing something in his tone of voice. “Why?”

“You’re not gonna believe this, but—the day I called you, when I saw the flowers—this dog showed up on my jogging route. I decided to follow it, see if I could maybe get it to a vet, and—it led me here. To your place.”

Karen hums thoughtfully, rubbing the dog’s ears. “You are a lucky dog, huh?” She shifts on her feet. “Okay, we’d better get her upstairs.”

It takes a few attempts, but Frank is finally able to slide his arms under the dog’s belly and lift it without jostling the injured leg too badly. Karen offers up treats as a distraction and talks gently to it the whole way up to her floor. They move as a unit, slow but steady.

“I set up a bed here,” Karen says as soon as they’re in the apartment, gesturing to a hastily arranged nest of blankets and pillows by the couch. “It’s not ideal, but it’s the best I could do.”

Frank meets her eyes. “That’ll work fine. Thanks, Karen.”

They work together to gingerly lower the dog onto the makeshift bed. It whimpers when its bad leg brushes against one of the pillows, but otherwise settles. It looks exhausted, casting a half-hearted glance around the room before dropping its head to its paw.

“My first aid kit is pretty basic,” Karen says, moving into the kitchen. “There’s some bandages in there, though.”

“That’s perfect.”

Karen returns with the supplies and a bowl of kibble. The dog licks at her fingers when she sets the bowl by its head.

“She likes you,” Frank observes.

Karen shrugs. “The Milk-Bones helped.”

“That’ll get you in the front door, but dogs can smell bullshit a mile away. They know when someone’s heart is good, yeah? This one—she knows.”

“Yeah, well, I’m just glad we finally got her out of the cold.” Karen’s knuckles brush the dog’s nose. “Do you think anyone’s looking for her?”

Frank starts to unravel one of the bandages. “Hard to say. Figured we—I—could take her to a clinic tomorrow, see if she’s chipped. They’ll find a shelter for her if she isn’t.”

“I can go with you,” Karen says. “I mean—I’d like to go with you. I did see her first.”

Frank huffs a laugh. “Deal.”

Karen stabilizes the dog while Frank attends to its leg. It makes a rumbling noise in its throat when he gently runs a finger down the length of bone. There’s some slight inflammation around the elbow joint, but he doesn’t want to risk applying an ice compress when the dog is already hypothermic. He settles for wrapping the limb, and Karen helps him lift the leg so that it’s slightly elevated on one of the pillows.

“Think that’s about all we can do for now,” he says. “I can stay up with her for a bit if you want to get some sleep.”

Karen fixes him with a knowing stare. “You know what I’m going to say to that.”

Frank smirks. “Yeah, I know. Thought I’d try anyways.”

They stay like that for a moment, and then Karen stands, tugging lightly at Frank’s arm to pull him up with her. “Since we’re in for a long night,” she says, “you want some coffee?”

“You gonna put that sugary crap in it?”

Karen smiles, her teeth flashing. “Extra, just because you said that.” She turns towards the kitchen—

It’s a reflex. In one swift movement, he’s reaching out to stop her, fingers snagging on her sleeve as he pulls her in and presses his lips to hers. She makes a soft sound of surprise against his mouth, and for a second, he thinks she might pull away—but then her hands are cupping his face, sliding around the nape of his neck, and she’s kissing him back. The world slides out of focus, narrows like a scope until it’s just him and Karen and his hands at her waist and the press of their hips and her mouth moving softly against his.

She pulls away first, breathless. “I was wondering when you were going to do that.”

Frank tips his forehead to rest against hers. “Wanted to, earlier. I just—I don’t want to mess this up, Karen. Don’t want you thinking I’m here for some reason that I’m not—”

“Frank.” Her fingers are moving in slow circles at the base of his neck, tangling in the hair that’s curled there. He thinks he’ll never get tired of this—how gentle her voice sounds, the feeling of her hands on him. “I want you here. You get that, right? I want this.”

His hand comes up, thumb dragging along the edge of Karen’s jaw. Lucky, she’d called the dog, but maybe luck has nothing to do with it. They’ve been in each other’s orbit ever since she crossed that red hospital tape. He thinks he knew, even then—

Wherever this woman is, that’s where he’s supposed to be.

“Okay,” he says, lips grazing hers. He feels her shudder, and warmth unspools in the pit of his stomach.

“Okay,” she whispers back, and kisses him again.

#kastle #kastle ff #kastlenetwork #kastlechristmas #c sand #my fic

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chrisevansbabymama · 5 years

Text

Daddy Hair Care - Chapter 4.1

Chapter 3

Chapter 4.1 - American Boy:

It was 9:51pm when Kayla looked up as the semi-sheer curtains on her booth were drawn open and Chris hovered above her. She locked her iPhone screen, the gadget that had served as a good distraction and company as she waited for him and Lauren. Keith and Tiffany had opted out.

After sending Chris off to his press event, Lauren retreated back to her suite a few doors down to nap, whilst Kayla went back home. She could have napped, but she used the hour to get ready for the dinner. It may or may not have had something to do with making an effort for Chris. She consulted her best friends’ Amanda and Michelle’s help, who co-signed that she should look “casually sexy,” like she wasn’t even trying to make an effort. So she settled for a no make-up, make-up look but with a bold lip. Her lips were her favourite feature. Then she wore high-waisted mom jeans that accentuated her butt (another one of her favourite features), completed with a roll-neck and satin heels.

But Chris had turned up on his own and still wearing the four-digit expensive suit from the event. He looked just as dreamy as he did when he left his suite earlier.

“Hey,” she greeted, taking him in as he slid in the booth opposite her.

His cologne wafted the small space. She breathed him in.

“Hey London,” he said and slid off his coat.

“Hollywood,” she shot back before chuckling at her nickname, “You haven’t called me that in a while,”

“I forgot I even used to call you that,” he smiled and then eyed her drink. “Have you guys ordered - where’s Lauren?”

“I thought she was coming with you?” Kayla explained, only to be met with his perplexed expression. “She told me she was running late and was going to

wait for you to come back to the hotel to change, and then you’d come together,”

“No,” he said slowly, recalling his conversation with her earlier. “I spoke to her when I was leaving the event just twenty minutes ago and she said she was already here with you,”

Even more confused by the mismatching narrative, Chris chewed on his bottom lip, deep in contemplation. This wasn’t like Lauren to lie. But she had said she was tired and wanted to spend the evening and all weekend in bed, before she came up with the plan to go out for dinner.

Kayla noticed his face change as if he suddenly had an epiphany; he shook his head in disbelief.

“What?”

“Seb,” he muttered, concluding quickly.

Kayla’s eyebrows knit together, now just as confused as he was.

“I bet she’s with him,” Chris said confidently with a nod.

But that didn’t make sense to Kayla; why wouldn’t Lauren tell Chris the truth if that was the case? And why did she lie to her and insist that she was coming out for dinner? But she shook her head, dismissing the thought. They were not best friends, so Lauren didn’t owe her an explanation about her private life; Chris perhaps, not her. And she supposed it made sense that she was lying if she was sneaking around with Seb.

But Kayla immediately had her own epiphany; that she was going to be spending the evening alone with Chris. She suddenly felt sick. Of course she’d been in his company, alone, on multiple occasions when Lauren had slipped out of the dressing room or his hotel suite to return his loaned suits, or grab a coffee.

But never like this, never in an intimate setting where she wasn’t working and had that to distract her. All of a sudden being up close to his face on a daily basis wasn’t as intimidating as this scenerio. She actually felt bad for Chris. He was the one getting the short end of the stick and now stuck with her, she bet he probably preferred to be in his suite with room service instead of this.

“Shall we call her?”

“Hmm, maybe not,” Chris replied quickly. “Probably best to leave her to it,”

“I’m sorry,”

“For what?”

“You’re stuck with me,” she shrugged, she lowered her posture. “Rain check? We can rearrange it for another time with everyone else?”

He paused, scrutinising her concernedly, “Why? You tired? I mean, I’m hungry and I could really eat so I’d prefer not to turn this down,”

“Are you sure?”

“Are you kidding? I’ve been looking forward to this since we talked about it at the hotel,” Chris reached for the menu. “You scared of being alone with me without your crutch, Lauren?”

“Oh shut up,” she huffed, her posture straightened back up without much thought.

“Just me and you London,”

And just like that, she felt normal around him again.

“How was the event?” she finally asked to break the silence as he studied the menu.

He sighed and gave her a look, that although she wasn’t Lauren - who was an expert at reading him, she understood this look: just…don’t.

“That bad?”

“I just hate those events, I knew no one. Y’just kinda stand around and mingle with a champagne in hand and pop a canapé here and there, and keep smiling for the cameras. It was a recipe for an anxiety attack,” he rolled his eyes. “I couldn’t wait to leave, at least I had this to look forward to,”

Had been looking forward to this as much as she had? Was he counting down the minutes, like she had been too?

“And as usual, every journalist was asking me about my Cap diet,” he rolled his eyes. “That’s all they know to talk about,”

“Like you’re some piece of meat,” Kayla offered to lighten up the mood, after noticing how distressed he was getting.

And it worked, he was startled at first but then a grin marked his features, letting her know that he was okay with the sparring. But that precipitated the nerves again for her; she could handle him, but usually that had been with Lauren in the audience. On her own, she felt cornered like he would see through her jokes.

“Like some piece of meat,” he echoed and then his voice went up an octave as he feigned pain in a playful voice. “I am more than my looks, I’m someone’s son and I’m a daddy,”

A daddy...she mused.

Kayla looked down to hide the smile threatening to light up her features. She needed to get out of her own head if she was going to survive this evening with him. As that realisation hit her again, coming to her in waves, her heart

thudded and she glanced at her phone. If only she could tell her friends that she was now out alone with him. But there was no way she could pick up the gadget surreptitiously and not only because it was rude, but her palms were a sweaty mess.

“I’m going to treat myself tonight, London. I’m going all out, what’s the greasiest option here?” he gave her a determined look. “Let’s give them a different variation of Cap’s body and see what they will ask me,”

“I’d recommend the tempura options if you really want to suck it to them, otherwise there’s not much grease here,” Kayla pointed out, receiving a child-like groan from the man across the table.

He grumbled, scanning the menu quickly to confirm that nothing else on there was going to satiate his appetite. The second he left the press event he had decided that it was going to be a cheat night; but he wasn’t going to find his pleasure in a sushi restaurant.

“Wanna go somewhere else?”

“Oh no, it’s fine. I’ve already made you wait all this time-“

“It’s okay. I would love a proper meal too, since someone’s made me wait this long to eat,”

“Sorry,” Chris said sheepishly, catching the playful shot at him for making her wait.

“C’mon Hollywood,” she wiggled her eyebrows. “I know a place,”

________

“This is everything I didn’t even know I needed,” Chris groaned with a mouthful of food.

It was a short while later when the two found themselves tucked away in the back of a darkly lit unassuming Lower East Side eatery. As her go-to for comfort food, Kayla thought it was ideal spot for Chris hide away. The sushi restaurant scene was almost too similar to the crowd he had left at the magazine party; dressed up, well-heeled, mini dresses and cleavage, suits and perfume drenched guests everywhere, with sake on the drinks menu.

Despite being overdressed for this crowd, they felt more relaxed. At the eatery, there were distressed jeans, sneakers, thick layered outfits to combat the cold, and drinks on the menu with names like Freaky Friday and OMG! They Killed Henny. Chris was tickled and he’d giggled at the names for longer than they warranted. But Kayla didn’t mind, she appreciated his sense of humour and that he didn’t take things too seriously.

“I could so eat this every day,” she told him wearing a look of adoration; happy to be eating at long last.

“I’m impressed, London. The concept always seemed bizarre to me, but this is golden,” he reached for syrup and drizzled it all over his waffles until they were swimming in the saccharine liquid.

Kayla felt all giddy at impressing Chris. She loved their little sparring matches and quips, but when he was complimentary, it gave her confidence that he took her seriously. She wasn’t just there for some comic relief.

“Is this really your first time trying chicken and waffles or are you trying to be cute?”

“Believe me, it is and I’m not proud of it,”

“Wow, I’m disappointed Evans,” she meant it.

“I don’t get out much, and I’m not allowed to eat this stuff,”

“You sound like a kid! Surely you have cheat days?”

“Usually it’s pizza, nachos, ice cream and beer. I’m a creature of habit,” he shrugged, shoving his face with another bite. “A simple guy,”

“I just thought chicken and waffles was simple? Isn’t it the most basic combo -the American equivalent to fish and chips?” she commented. “I bet you don’t cook. Do you cook?”

“Do I cook? Of course I cook,” he gave her a ridiculous look.

“Hey,” she looked at him pointedly. “I could have asked you what your Cap diet consists of,”

He deadpanned, “Yeah, touché,”

“Okay, so what do you cook, what’s your knockout meal? I gotta warn you, my standards are low,”

“I can knock a tagine out the park…pesto eggs…I make mean pesto eggs,”

“I don’t believe it,”

He shrugged, “Not really fair if I can’t prove myself without a kitchen,”

“True,”

“What’s your ‘knockout’ meal?”

“I make a good pad thai, and I bake a lot too,”

“I don’t believe it,” he mocked her with a lopsided grin. “Prove it,”

“Unlike some people,” she coughed a ‘you’ under her breath. “Some of us are normal and don’t live in hotels, so I actually can prove it,”

He looked at her, shocked at the low blow. She flinched at the expression, realising how insensitive she came across.

“Chris, I’m so sorry, that was so insensitive,”

“It was,” he pointed a look at her, but the smile tugging at the corners of his mouth put her at ease; he hadn’t taken offence. “You owe me, now you have to cook for me,”

Caught off-guard by his flirty remark, she became shy; imagining the domesticity of his proposal. It was something that had always occupied her imagines and thoughts on a few too many occasions.

Chris blushed. It was almost visible, his face had turned a soft pink hue as he also imagined it: watching her taking charge of the kitchen to cook for him. He was certain that she was a good cook. Lucky for him, the dim lighting had obscured just how bashful he was.

“I’ll help you, of course, because otherwise that’s just sexist of me to demand you to cook for me,” he corrected.

Everyone inch of Kayla’s feminist inhibition wanted to say ‘damn right,’ but the sexiness of this entire scenerio crippled her.

Patriarchy 1 - 0 Kayla.

“You seem very convinced that it’s going to happen,”

“Speaking it into existence,” he imitated her mantra with a wink that she didn’t know what to do with.

So really if she played her cards right, she could have Chris Evans in her home? And cook for him?

“We’ll see,” she said casually, but deep inside she was screaming.

“Don’t you feel sorry for me? I eat out of take out boxes, or room service. I miss a good home-cooked meal,”

“That hardly seems like a nightmare,”

“You’re lucky I’m not travelling for the Infinity War press tour. I’d love to take you with me and see how you survive out of your territory,”

To him it was a careless and empty threat, but to Kayla, she hung onto the fact that he had even considered her as an option.

“You’re just showing off because New York is your territory,” he continued.

“Hardly! London’s my territory,” she laughed at how worked up he was getting. “So what’s brought you out tonight if eating out isn’t your favourite thing to do? You’re usually one to hide away indoors?”

“Seb’s been bothering me to get out more and ‘put myself out there’ to start dating again, I kinda ignored him until my ma said the exact same thing,” he sat back. “Which clearly means that I have a boring life. If I’m not with Mya or Dodger, I’m either napping or working,”

“So your tactic to live a carefree life is to hide at the very back of a hidden restaurant, stuff your face with waffles drenched in syrup?”

“It’s a good start, baby steps,” he considered, before they both started laughing.

Kayla considered what he meant by ‘putting himself out there,’ had he been reserving himself all along? She wondered how long he’d take to make a move on her if he liked her. Then she felt ridiculous for even thinking it possible, Chris was clearly the type that made a move if he liked someone. Judging by his lifestyle and age; being a dad and all, with a career going for him, he didn’t seem like the type to waste time. He had that sexy and mature ‘I know what I want and I get what I want’ aura about him.

So why hadn’t he made his move, if he liked her as much as Lauren proposed?

“As the singles on Team Chris Evans, me and you should make a pact,” he lifted his glass and nodded at hers. She mirrored him. “From now on, we are going to make time and put ourselves out there,”

It wasn’t a secret that she was single, but she’d never had a conversation with him for him to know that she was. Something about the way he made that assumption bothered her. Was she that unappealing that it was obvious she was single?

She didn’t call him out on his (albeit correct) assumption though, she clinked her glass against his as he made a toast to being single ‘but ready to mingle.’ Really, the playing field wasn’t levelled; if he wanted, he could be in a relationship tomorrow. He had a queue of women around the world ready to say yes to him.

But she smiled and pretended it was okay, like she knew to.

Like she always did.

Like she always had to.

Chris downed the last of his beverage and sat back again, satisfied. A food coma was imminent, so he stifled a yawn and stretched. Even then, it was a sight for Kayla, it wasn’t even the way his muscles contracted and wrestled with his dress shirt. He just looked so soft and needy. In need of a cuddle, she concluded. The man could just breathe and that was enough for her to lose her senses.

“Long day,” Kayla said sympathetically.

“Man, you have no idea,”

“Let’s get the check,”

“I don’t wanna go home, well, back to the hotel. I’ll just sleep,” he frowned.

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

He looked at her incredulously, “No! It’s a Friday night, putting myself out there and being carefree, remember?”

Kayla thought, “Okay, you can walk me home, that’ll kill sometime,”

“It’s cold,”

“Hence why we’re walking, it’ll keep us warm. I live five minutes from here,”

“That’s not really how the science works,” he stated. She gave him a blank look. He groaned, “A car is better and warm, there is heating,”

“This is so Hollywood of you, Evans. I doubt you’ll meet the woman of your dreams when you’re tucked away in the back of an Uber. Put yourself out there,” she pepped him. “What if you get cold? Carefree, remember?”

What if the woman of my dreams is already there with me? Chris smiled, failing to hide it; Kayla thought her pep-talk was resonating with him.

Chris resigned, “This is so London of you. You’re used to your crappy weather, you can shoulder the cold,”

“You’re so Hollywood, I’m in heels and I’m not complaining,” she pierced her eyes at him. “But you’re all, ‘I’m Chris, I’m from LA where it’s always hot, and I don’t walk anywhere because I have personal chauffeurs-“

“Fine, we are going to walk,” he said determined to show how normal he was.

“Before we go,” she bit her bottom lip nervously, realising he wasn’t putting up a fight anymore. “I kinda lied, it’s more like a fifteen minute walk,”

“Okay, if I’m bearing the cold to get you home, you’re cooking for me next time. I mean that,”

“Deal, and relax, it’s not even that cold,”

Chapter 4.2

_________

Disclaimer: Gif Not My Own

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