#been playing lethal company a lot the past week | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oftenderweapons · 4 years

Text

The Studio - Min Yoongi

Pairing: Yoongi x reader (nicknamed Kitten)

Wordcount: 9.8k words

Genre: fluff, smut, mild angst

Rating: 18+

Hello my little raspberries! Here we go with Yoongi’s studio one shot. I’ll try and explain as briefly as I can for those new to this: Kitten is the nickname Yoongi has given to the reader (read more about the nicknames here), so basically this is a readerxYoongi.

To sum up the context of the fic quickly without reading all the rest (including some stuff which hasn’t been published yet [if you wanna read it vote for Illicit Affairs *wink wonk*]), Yoongi and Kitten have been dating for months but Yoongi kept postponing stuff with her (much to Kitten’s dismay — more like utter desperation) until their schedule in Japan was done. When they do reunite, they basically live joined at the hip — pun intended — but unfortunately, since tour is approaching, Yoongi has to take a week to focus on his job, promising Kitten the weekend. As Friday nights falls, Kitten decides to come claim her prize, and she comes carrying a lethal weapon.

Description and trigger warnings: Lots of swearing. As usual there is unprotected sex (these two got tested before going bare, please be like Yoongi: be smart, get tested). Female masturbation (with bullet vibrator), Kitten acts up since Yoongi acts oblivious and indifferent (surprise: He. Is. Not.), Trauma from past relationship (Kitten has had a pretty shitty ex who ignored her needs and made her very uncomfortable about having someone go down on her), Male masturbation, Oral sex both male and female receiving, Sensation play and slight foot fetishism, cum play and cum eating (it was necessary), lowkey spanking, multiple orgasms, hinted squirting.

Word count: 9.8k

Here is my updated Masterlist!

The receptionist led you through a daedalus of rooms and glass doors. After a few turns you spotted the sign of the Rkive, nothing but darkness coming from behind the glass door. He was probably already at home, maybe with his girl. From what Yoongi had told you, Namjoon had been working from home for the last few days, only coming in for rehearsals, leaving shortly before dinner. You had crossed her on the lift once as she carried a weekender, smiling at you, before you both headed for the same corridor, stopping at neighbouring doors, both ringing the doorbells and waiting.

"You must be Kitten, uh?" She said, using Yoongi's nickname. You asked yourself how she knew that.

"Vixen?" You replied, guessing that she was the woman that Namjoon told Yoongi about.

She laughed and nodded. "Yes, I guess you can call me that too. Pleased to meet you." She said, introducing herself with her full name. Just as you shook her hand, introducing yourself, Namjoon came to the door in a pair of loose grey sweats and a white t-shirt, greeting her with a "hey babe" before he spotted you, waving cutely at your form before Yoongi opened the door for you, with a way less appropriate "fuck, I'm starving, come here" which had the couple next door secretly giggling as your needy partner dragged you past his threshold and smashed the door closed.

That was just two weeks ago. You went from a week of daily sex — with multiple rounds — to a complete caresty. You were almost ready to hump a streetlight like a stripper pole, however you thought you'd much rather surprise your man and knock at his door like a discreetly civilised young woman.

Lost in your thoughts you didn't even realise you had reached his door.

"Here we are, shall I ring?" The receptionist asked.

"Yes, please." You said with a polite smile.

"I think I've already seen you."

You nodded. "My firm works for yours. I have come here before." You confirmed.

"Oh, that makes sense."

Yoongi opened the door, his mouth composing a surprised expression, and then his signature gummy smile, which you mirrored. "You're here."

You nodded, mirroring his expression.

"Thank you, Mr. Kang." He said, holding his hand out for you. You caught it immediately as he led you through the door.

"That's okay, boy." The older man, quite surely a member of security greeted both goodnight and headed back for his spot.

"He's my favourite. Sometimes when his shift ends we eat dinner together. He's amazing." He said with a soft smile. He brought your joined hands to his lips, kissing your knuckles. "How's the weather outside?"

"Not too cold, but the air is pretty damp, I just hope it rains. It's very foggy tonight." You said, taking off your coat.

He grabbed your face as both your hands were still caught in your sleeves, planting his lips on yours. "Lemme finish a couple things on this one then we're all set and we can head home."

"Are you the only one left?" You asked.

Yoongi nodded. "Normally it's me and Joon working late and heading back home together, but lately he's been going back home to Vixen. I've heard he's trying to get her to move in."

"Haven't they been dating for a couple months?" You questioned.

"So what. We've also been dating for a couple months but would you say no if I asked you to move in with me?"

You thought about it.

"Seriously?" He asked, scandalised at your hesitation as he headed back to his chair.

"I mean…!" You complained, trying to win him back. "It's just a couple months. I would take it easy, maybe first I’d start with staying for the weekend and then see if I can handle it during weekdays too, gradually. A bit at a time."

He acted as if he weren't listening.

"Yoongi!"

"Busy." He replied.

"You cannot not listen to what you don't like." You said, with a curious giggle.

"Call me when you're ready to say 'If you asked me to, I would move in tomorrow'". He typed, but it sounded more like a dramatic gesture than some actual typing. "Plus, I will unlisten to whatever you say that doesn't respect the I-love-you-I'm-a-sucker-for-you-Yoongi agenda."

You moved closer to his chair, standing behind him, bending down to his ear. "What if I put my lips, right here." You teased, "would you listen to me?"

He shivered and you snickered like a vicious predator.

"Uh?" You urged him.

"You won't distract me like this." He said.

"Not even if I said 'I love you, I'm a sucker for you, Yoongi'," you moaned in his ear, "not even then?"

He shifted in his seat, his lips parting. "No." He said, but his voice was extremely unsure, not even a glimpse of firmness in it.

"Don't lie to me." You murmured. Your hands spreading over his pectorals. He might not be as buff as some of the other guys, but he was secretly well built, especially on the chest area. You had personally tested that out.

He withheld a moan. "I'm not distracted."

"You're getting hard, Yoongi." You commented, noticing his bulge. You let your hands crawl lower, down his stomach, where his sweater met the waist of his slacks. "I missed you so much these past few days." You whined, trying to find the button of his trousers.

He slapped your hand. "Let me finish and we can head home. There you can tell me how much you missed me." He said, his voice almost sounding like a warning. "In detail."

"But I want you now."

"Stay put and wait."

You tutted and stood up. "Cockblocker." You snarled under your breath, sitting on the sofa.

"How can I cockblock you if you don't even have a cock?" He argued back.

You chuckled. "Shut up." You rummaged in your bag, smirking when you found your little personal pouch. "Plus, why would I need a cock when you can share yours with me?"

It was his turn to chuckle. "You, shut up." He said back at you. "If you were smart enough, you would keep quiet and be good, so I can finish my job and take you home."

The fact that you immediately thought of his place scared you a little. You absolutely understood Vixen and Namjoon's position at this point. With the guys' schedule, which includes working hours, trips, shootings, TV and radio appearances, then briefings and their own meetings and the oncoming tour, you started fearing how it would end up with you and Yoongi: your relationship had blossomed in fits and starts through Yoongi's determination and commitment, and your curiosity towards him. It had kept going because of the incredible attraction, the sense of balance and the sacred quiet and respect that you could reach in each others' company.

"Home where?" You asked, shutting up your mind.

He turned with his chair. "This should be enough to show you that Namjoon is right about having her move in. And that I would be right too if I wanted you to."

He wanted to. After he'd come back home from Japan, you had spent the rest of the week going back to his place after dark, having dinner, taking care of each other, sleeping together. The week after that you basically went back home only to grab a few things before going back to his. Then on Sunday he told you he had rehearsals at BigHit, and usually those go on till late, so he would be staying at the dorms, promising you he'd spend whatever free time he had with you and that he would see you in the weekend, when the rehearsals finish earlier and they have less disturbing timetables.

That's how you found yourself in his studio, on Friday night at 10pm.

"How long do you have left there?" You asked.

"Mh, maybe twenty minutes. I was just doing a little bit of fact checking and research for some references. Almost done."

"No listening?" You asked, testing for any catch in your plan.

"No, i don't think so, why?" He kept scrolling on his screen.

As you quietly took off your trousers, you chirped out a "nothing" shedding your jacket too in the process. You sat on his sofa in nothing but a formal shirt, an undershirt and your bra, your lacy panties doing little to protect your skin from the cold bite of the leather. You grabbed your disinfectant gel from your pouch and poured a dollop on your palm. After that you passed a wet wipe on your hands, carefully inspecting the underside of each nail. Once you were satisfied, you neared the bin by the door and got rid of the used wipe.

You sat back on the sofa and bit your lip, hesitating before moving to the next step. You still forced yourself to ignore your pouch, focusing on cupping your crotch and staring at the back of Yoongi's head. His place smelled amazing, something like patchouli and lavender and amber and pine. It was very male. Sometimes you could even catch a whiff of scotch.

You were wet.

It felt uncomfortable and somehow disappointing that he was there but he hadn't yet looked for you. Uncertainty made you desperate and eager for confirmation on his side. Maybe that's why you were here, acting like this.

The moment your finger slipped against your clit you huffed out a heavy breath, trying to keep quiet and making sure that Yoongi couldn't hear you quite right yet.

You did it again, trying to arouse yourself fully, until the wetness became unbearable. Not only it needed to feel wet, but to sound like it too. It took little, especially considering that you had accidentally deprived yourself because of a combination of work and stress and waiting for Yoongi. On the brink of sanity, you slipped your panties to the side, the sound of typing stopping for a second, which had you stopping your finger with the tip hovering at your entrance.

Yoongi started typing again, slow but completely absorbed in his work. You pushed your finger in, your mouth opening in a breathy sob, which Yoongi didn't hear — or that maybe he ignored.

Crooking your finger, you teased your g-spot, immediately flinching as you realised how it felt almost too good. The sofa creaked underneath you.

At his desk, Yoongi was going on with his work, completely oblivious of the misbehaving happening on his couch, however he almost started thinking of working from home.

Oh, so you'll be in the same house as Kitten, with a bed, a sofa and a bathtub, and you're gonna lock yourself in the studio and ignore her. Yeah, right. He thought.

Therefore, on with his work.

In the meantime you had surreptitiously taken off your panties, your legs still open just barely enough to fit your wrist. The process had been an exercise in control, since the leather seemed to have glued to your naked backside, which made it creak at every single inch of skin trying to part from the surface. Your hand was now free to roam on your pubis, cupping the skin and parting the labia, dragging two fingers along the slit, wetting them properly before inserting them. This time you did moan a short staccato sound, it lasted maybe half a second before you regained control of your vocal cords.

Yoongi's ears immediately picked that up, however he deemed the sound a sign of impatience or tiredness and dismissed it altogether.

Licking your lower lip, almost expecting him to turn around, you waited a couple more seconds before moving your fingers inside, crooking them. You bent forward at the precision with which you managed to find your sweet spot, the seated position simplifying the operation. Your mouth parted in a silent cry and your hips buckled, once more making the sofa crackle underneath you.

Yoongi started getting suspicious: he knew you had something going on, but he decided against asking. Ignorance is bliss.

He went on with his work.

You started getting seriously upset at his lack of recognition. With insufference and discontent coursing through your veins, you fished out a smaller pouch from your bag, quickly undoing the strings with your clean fingers. You extracted one of your favourite gifts to yourself, a small vibrator, a rather practical one you had taken from your bedside before you came to see him. You were almost sorry it was a pretty quiet one. You switched it on, enjoying the light buzzing it emitted. It was like listening to a mosquito fly around your ears. You seriously doubted Yoongi could hear it.

You placed it on your mound, without even letting it close to your folds or your clit. You teased the outline of your intimate parts, gently drawing the lines of your labia. You were very careful when you reached your clit, still a whimper escaped your lips.

Yoongi placed it immediately. He could recognise that sound instinctively. Usually it was connected to his tongue curling around your clit when he started eating you out. It was the first-lick whimper. The other circumstance was when he slid inside you particularly good, with that smooth, all-in-in-one-go kind of thrust. You were probably touching yourself.

He didn't know what to do with that information. He wanted to turn around and look at you, of course, but he thought that if he ignored you, you would probably get louder, needier and messier, and he was all in for that.

In the meantime you had started drawing circles on your clit, your breathing erratic and your spare hand going up to cup your breast. Your eyes were still glued to the dark mass of hair emerging from the chair right before you. "Yoongi." You called.

"Almost done, baby." He replied. He wanted to smash his head against the table. No man in his right state of mind would do this. He wasn't a genius. He was a masochistic fool and the worst part of it all was how disgustingly lucid he was in his reasoning. How he was trying to get you so desperate that you would scream and beg for his attention.

You were fuming: you turned the power of the toy to the loudest setting you had, the buzz now propagating in the room, your cunt so slick it was almost too loud for your taste.

"Yoongi, please." You cried out, your juices dripping on his sofa. And then you snapped, your whole body bending forward as you moaned "so good, Yoongi", your body too weak to remove the vibrator from your overstimulated nerve endings, your orgasm too sudden and overwhelming.

Still, no sign from Yoongi. The back of his chair was the first thing you noticed as soon as you recovered from your small black-out.

You switched off the toy, laying it on your thigh as you laid back against the back of the couch. "Yoongi." You called again, upset by his indifference.

"Mh." He acknowledged. That was suspicious. Quietly you parted from the sofa, kneeling down and starting to crawl towards him, not entirely trusting your legs to not give out beneath you; however your crawling had a limping pattern, your soaked hand close to your chest, clutching the toy in your palm.

You were perfectly quiet as you closed up on him, hiding behind the back of his chair as you listened. He was making a noise similar to a low purr, groaning under his breath. Your eyes closed as you listened to him carefully. You knew that purring moan, the rushed pattern of breaths. You moved to the side of his chair, peeking at his lap.

He was touching himself, his other hand combing his hair back and moving down the side of his neck, lingering on his chest. His eyes were closed, his lips parted, his hips jerking up just a fraction of an inch with the tiniest thrusts. His hand looked glossy with spit and precum as he dragged it roughly from base to tip, where he gave two rolls of his wrist before heading down again.

It was his technique, milking upwards, double roll the palm around the tip and back downwards. It was the way he used to do it before you came around. Since then he had slowly grown accustomed to finishing by thrusting up into his fist, usually laying on his belly before cumming on your navel or kneeling, straddling your waist and spilling on your chest. He loved pressing his face between your boobs when he touched himself hovering over you, but he also enjoyed the view when kneeling over you.

Thinking of you like that had his lips parting in a slow, heavy breath that got you even wetter.

"Yoongi." You whispered delicately.

He didn't even get scared, he just opened his eyes and smirked. "You done with your little scene on my sofa?"

Cocking an eyebrow you sat on the balls of your feet, observing him. "Maybe I should go back home, where I can comfortably make myself cum on my plush bed without judgy, undeserving people around." You said with a petty tone.

He looked taken aback by your comment. "I had told you to stay put, still and quiet."

"Buy yourself a doll and she can do that for you. I've been staying put, still and quiet all week. I can assure you it's pretty boring." You reprimanded him, a bit upset.

"Are you horny?" He asked, slowing down his motion.

"I was." You clicked your tongue, catching his hand mid-stroke. "You lost your chance."

He chuckled mischievously. "You've had just one. You need minimum another." He ripped his hand from your grasp and started moving again.

"You were busy. How come you're jerking off instead of doing your fact check?" You asked, snarling a little.

"I finished my fact check but I didn't want to interrupt you. I reckoned I could use your little solo for selfish purposes." He said, groaning a bit as his slowed down movement reached a sensitive spot.

You wanted your mouth on him. You were ready to make him pay for it.

He stopped touching himself and moved his hand to your mouth to draw the line of your lips. You immediately opened up, slipping your tongue out to lick at his finger.

"Kitten." He breathed out.

You ignored his plea and sucked at his finger. His strong, slender, beautiful finger. He was enraptured by your expression: eyes closed, lips puckered around his knuckle. You looked peaceful. And beautiful. And well, erotic.

"Kitten, love." He murmured, turning his chair slightly, enough so that you could be more comfortable in your position.

You were finally facing his lap, his cock laying in front of you, covered in slick, so thick and delicious. He wasn't that long, but it balanced his body beautifully, the thickness and modest length making it the best dick you had ever taken in your mouth, which obviously made you twice as willing to suck him. All the time — not like frequency mattered.

With a bit of resistance on your behalf, he pushed his finger out of your mouth. "Are you that in love with my hands, Kitten?"

You pouted. "Tell me one good reason to take it away from me."

"I thought you'd like my cock better." He said, honest.

You frowned. "As if you deserved to get some after making me cum all alone, while you took advantage of my loudness."

“Are you angry at me, Kitten?” He asked. He knew it was a bastard move when he started it, but he hadn't thought it would affect you this much.

“A bit.” You admitted.

It was sort of hilarious to have this conversation while you were naked from your waist down, a bullet vibrator in hand and his erection laying out of his pants.

“Why are you angry at me?” He asked, being absolutely neutral about his state of undress. Unfortunately you weren’t an ounce as neutral as him.

You dragged the back of your hand up his calf, your knuckles grazing the soft stubble of his legs.

“I have been unfair to you, haven’t I?” He asked, caressing your head with his clean hand, tipping your chin upward. “I’m sorry, Kitten.” He said, holding your gaze. “I’ve missed you too, love.” He traced your lips. “I’ve missed making love to you.”

“I’ve missed you so much.” Your hand reached his crotch, scratching his thighs through the fabric of his trousers. “I’ve been wanting you all week, but i didn’t want to bother you. I kept reminding myself that you were busy, that I just needed to last a few days until it was the weekend and you could be all mine.” You bent down and kissed his knee. “But it took a toll on me, not hearing from you. Not having you near.” You pressed your face to his lower inner thigh. “You didn’t even say you love me.” You mumbled under your breath, feeling a knot in your throat.

“Oh, ____, love.” He bent down, trying to drag your face away from his knee, keeping you from hiding yourself. “I love you, ____. I love you, Kitten.” He kissed your forehead. “I’m sorry I didn’t call you, baby. I’m sorry I didn’t tell remind you.” He cupped your jaw and pressed your mouth to his. “I love you, Kitten. I’ll tell you as many times as you need it, baby.”

“I love you too, Yoongi.” You murmured against his lips. “I’m sorry for being like this.” You said. It was a flashback to all the times you had to beg your ex to declare his feelings to you, to all the times you had had to ask him to love you.

“Nothing to be sorry about, Kitten. Absolutely nothing, my love.” He whispered close to you face. “I’m not your ex, baby. I’m here for you.” He kept stroking your cheek. “If we keep going here we’re gonna make a mess, Kitten.”

“Is there any reason why we shouldn’t?” You asked, quiet and mischievous.

“I usually meet the guys here to record demos.” He objected.

You frowned. "It's not like I'm going to cause irreversible damage."

He pouted and nodded. Fair enough. “So…"

"Yoongi, please, I need to feel you in my mouth." You whined, biting your lower lip.

He chuckled, sitting upright. "You sure, Kitten?"

"Yeah, I'm sure, now stand up and take off your trousers please." You said, tugging at the fabric.

He snickered and pushed his chair back enough to stand in front of you and roll down his slacks. He sat closer to the edge of the chair and you tugged at the hem, finally removing his trousers completely. Now you were free to make him open wide and kneel between his legs.

You suckled the skin of his inner thigh, your hands skimming his calves. At the moment, your toy was laying between your thighs, switched off as you waited for the best moment to bring it into the picture. "Do you want me?" You asked, looking at him from under your eyelashes, batting them slowly, your lips curled up in a cute pout.

"Of course I do, Kitten. I'm so hard for you baby." He moaned, stroking himself. He lowered the tip so that it was closer to your lips.

"Can I?" You murmured, almost desperate.

"Yes, Kitten. It's yours, love, you know it." He said gently, longing for you so ardently and so composedly.

You licked his slit with delicate manners. You looked like the elegant cat you had reminded him from day one. And then your lips wrapped up around him, sucking his bulbous head into your mouth, your cheeks wrapping so tight around him with the pressure of your sucking.

"Fuuuuck, Kitten, that's amazing, love. ____, you're gonna make me cum."

Grinning like the devil, you took the chance to swallow him almost entirely, leaving only an inch out, and making him roar with pleasure. "Yes, yes. That's one hell of a mouth, Kitten. That's so fucking perfect, ____. I fucking love you so fucking much, babe." You loved when he started to swear during sex, it turned you on in a manner you couldn't quite understand.

When you felt him start to pulsate in your mouth you pressed two fingers at the base and pulled him out.

"You good, Kitten?" He asked, panting, trying not to cry at the vulnerable situation you'd left him in. He was on the very edge, one more second and he could have cum. But he didn't press you, you just came up for air.

Little did he know it was absolutely intentional. And you intended to do it again. You played a poker face. "Yes, I'm good, why?"

"Just checking on you." He explained, stroking himself at the base.

This couldn't do. You caught his wrist gently, blocking it. "Lemme take care of it all, babe." You licked his tip seducingly. "You know I won't leave you hanging."

He smiled and threw his head back. "I am at your mercy, ____."

He had all the power in the world when he spoke your name. You eagerly returned to your ministration, this time blocking his palm on his tight, underneath yours, while his other hand kept toying with his neck and chest. Not that you noticed: you were too eager bobbing your head on his length, focusing on the lewd moans he emitted, on the swear words he growled against the headrest of his chair, where he was currently pressing the side of his face.

"Kitten." He whined, almost endearing in the delicate inflection of his voice.

He was going to cum. You pulled him out as fast as you could, quickly heading to his underside to lay the softest kisses of affection.

"Kitten." He growled, but this time it was no joke. He was getting worked up. A bit angry.

"What?"

"Stop teasing."

"Me! Teasing! How could I? My priority is my boyfriend, Yoongi, and his well-being”. You grinned, delivering a long lick from the base to his tip. “I’m going to make you feel so good.”

“Kitten, I swear, if you’re edging me I’m going to make you pay for it.” He growled, fighting your grip on his hand.

You gripped his wrist harder. “This can go two ways, Yoongi. You let me do my thing on my terms, or I’m going to leave right in this second and go back home by myself tonight. Pick.” You used a tone so calm it sounded like the most sensual of threats.

He twisted his wrist gently, looking into your eyes, and lacing his fingers with yours, moving your joined hands to the armrest. With the other hand he gripped the edge of the chair behind his head. “Do your thing, Kitty cat.”

Smiling lasciviously, you placed open mouthed kisses to his inner thigh, moving from the left to the right side. You lifted your hand, previously on his lap, letting the edge of your nail draw a thin line from his hip to his knee to his ankle, where it met his sock. You were almost tempted to take it off and tease him there. Why not? You had the wipes to clean it afterward… Fuck it.

You caressed his ankle, teasing it with your nails.

“Kitten, that feels very good, love.” He moaned, squeezing your hand in his. “Want me to let go of your hand?” He asked.

“Maybe later.” You whispered, leaving sucking kisses at the base of his shaft. You blindly took off his sock. “Are you cold, baby?” You murmured softly.

“No, I’m shivering because it’s so good, love.” He praised you. “You are amazing, Kitten. Thank you so much for this, babe.”

You parted from his skin. “No need to thank me, Yoongles.” You licked his length. “I do it because I like it. Because it’s so good.” With your spare hand you tickled the underside of his foot, which had him tensing the muscles there, his whole leg jumping, trying to escape your sweet torture. “Too much?”

“Just… unexpected. Sensitive.” He hissed.

You removed your teasing fingernails.

“It’s– No, I liked it.” He clarified, his pretty face scrunched in a confused expression.

You smiled darkly. “I was thinking of this…” You placed your toy under his foot, switching it on on the lowest setting.

“Kitten. Fuck. Shit.” He growled. “What the hell!” He pressed his head against the back of the seat.

“Too much?” You asked, distancing it from his skin.

"No, good. God, Kitten. Just, please, your mouth." He begged.

You kissed his tip and swallowed him.

His back arched and his lips parted in a gasp. "Yes, love. Oh god."

The slight buzzing moved up towards his calf as you absentmindedly followed the outline of his leg. You were completely absorbed in pleasuring him with your mouth, squeezing him with your lips and tongue and stroking him with the tender skin of your cheeks.

"Please." He moaned, struggling under your assault. "Love you." He whined. "Let me." He was so hopeless, his broken thoughts exiting his mouth unfiltered.

You pulled him out, taking a deep breath, opening your eyes to look at him. "You look so pretty, Yoongi. You look so fucking high, babe.”

“Please,” he breathed, trying to grind up into your mouth.

“Come on, wait for me, Yoongi. I’m not done with you yet, baby.” You cooed, bringing the vibrator up to the inside of his knee, which made his leg start bouncing. Ever so gently, you brought the head of the bullet even closer to his inner thigh, making him swear under his breath. “I feel so good making you look like this,” you groaned, kissing his navel. “I know right now your head is so empty you’re only thinking about me. No drama going on inside your pretty head when I’m giving you head this good. ”

“Kitten, for the love of God.”

Just when you had reached his crotch with your toy-accidentally-turned-instrument-of-torture, you started again on the other side, from his knee. His hand was gripping yours viciously, his strong fingers constricting your knuckles with so much pressure you worried about him getting cramps right when you wanted him to feel only pleasure coursing through his body.

“I am begging you, Kitten. I ain’t too proud, please.” He howled, as you saw a glistening pearl of precum blossom on his slit. You immediately caught it with your tongue, using the occasion to suck his tip.

“Such a good boy. Lemme take care of you.” Your head lowered on him once more, this time not sparing an inch of him. Just as he quieted down from the deep moan he had just released, you moved the vibrator to the tender skin of his testicles, placing it there without pressure, which made the stimulation even more intense.

He growled your name. It was the most virile thing you had ever heard. You were ready to commit murder to hear him say it like that everyday for the rest of your life. The hand once tightly gripping the back of his chair was now hanging midair, as if ready to touch you. He caressed his sweaty fringe, combing his hair back and deciding on gripping the armrest instead of the back. You slipped him out once more and removed the vibrator.

He opened his eyes with the most pitiful expression he had ever made. “Kitten.”

“I know, baby, I just need to know if you want to cum in my mouth or if you have anything else in mind.” You said, tracing small circles with your thumb on the back of his hand.

He noticed that you were still wearing your nice shirt from work. “Chest.” He murmured.

You grinned. You had never allowed any man to do that to you. You hated the idea of it, but when you did it with Yoongi for the first time you just saw him lose his mind at it, stare at you in admiration, like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, and you just decided that the look on his face was a great prize for a relatively small sacrifice. Little did you know you would come to like it, the warm, sudden feeling of his semen sprinkling your naked skin, rolling down gently in the most erotic sort of massage you could ever dream of. Quickly, you let go of Yoongi’s hand, offering him the vibrator. “Hold it for me, baby?”

He simply nodded with a confused pout, his brain so fucked out that you giggled at how cute he looked. You undid a few buttons of your shirt to your stomach, then you stood up and took off your undershirt, slipping the thin straps off your arms through the hem of each sleeve and dragging the lower hem down from your waist, until you stepped out of it like a skirt. Yoongi looked a bit more lucid as you undid the clasps of your bra and removed the straps just like those of your undershirt, gripping the front of the bra and pulling it off from the opening of your shirt. Covered only in your white work shirt, you regained your vibrator from Yoongi’s obedient hand and joined your hand with his once more.

“Open it nice, I don’t wanna mess up the shirt.” He said, ever the caring, attentive one.

You slipped the shoulders off, the fabric slipping under your breasts and supporting them like some sort of a corset.

“Like this?” You asked.

He nodded. “Will you let me this time, please?” He said, his voice so fragile and broken that if you hadn’t already decided, he would have convinced you to offer him relief.

You let your actions speak. You started working the first few inches of his shaft, gently toying with the vibrator at the base, where his cock met his balls. His moaning soon became desperate, so incoherent that you doubted having one of the most talented rappers and songwriters in front of you. He looked like he didn’t know a word, like the best he could do were baby gurgles.

When you felt him begin to pulsate, you let him take the lead a little, choosing how deep he needed to go and how long he could keep going. You started teasing the underside of his cock with the side of the vibrator, running up and down the thick tendon there. “Kitten, I’m close.” He warned with a timbre so husky it almost scared you

You started going a bit faster with the up and down pattern of the toy. Your eyes were fixed on him when he started slowly moving his hips toward the edge of the chair with weak thrusts. He started opening and closing his mouth, gaping. His short groans became more frequent, getting higher and higher, his knuckles going white with how hard he was gripping his armrest.

“Now.” He said, letting go of the armrest, using his hand to pull out of your mouth while you scooted closer, offering him the skin of you bosom. Your inner walls began pulsating as he pushed his tip against the skin of your nipple, rubbing it while at the same time he gently pushed your hand and the toy aside to stroke the base. He kept licking his lips, delivering those small thrusts into his fist just as you moved the tip of the vibrator to the head of his cock, teasing the frenulum. He groaned and began moving faster, his grunts getting quicker until he finally screamed your name.

The first shot was usually the messiest, the pressure so high it often reached your neck and chin, but this time it stayed on your breast, probably because Yoongi was pressing up into you and the toy. You moaned yourself when the vibrator touched your nipple, Yoongi laughing gently and calling your name when he realised you were paying for this too, that you too were vulnerable, and that probably you were turned on enough to let him eat you out and possibly cum inside you before you both headed to his place for a hot meal and a shower. Not necessarily in that order.

He spilled twice more on your breastbone and your other breast before he calmed down, reaching for the toy and switching it off. “Kitten. I swear to God, I’m gonna die because of you.” He panted, heavily gasping for air.

Still no trace of the mighty rapper, just one very normal, very lovely young man.

With a fingertip you collected a drop that was dangerously rolling down towards your shirt. “A good way to go.”

“It would be sort of embarrassing to explain.” He blushed, looking at you sucking at his cum on your fingertip. “Come here.” He murmured, patting his thighs. “Can you straddle me?” He asked.

“Why don’t we move to the sofa?” You asked.

He nodded, using your still joined hands to help you up on your feet. As you both stood up, you found yourself face to face, however his eyes moved downwards, to the wetness on your boobs. Bending his head, he cupped both with his palms, cradling the underside in his hands before pushing his lips to your nipple, his tongue lashing out to lick away at his release. Still needy, he moved to the other side, cleaning the other stain too.

Your knees wobbled. He smirked. “Sofa.” However when he reached the black leather piece he noticed the mess you had left behind. “You’d better fix it. Immediately.” He reprimanded.

You hang your head low between your shoulders, hiding from his scolding. You put your toy on top of its pouch, fishing a couple wet wipes to clean the cushion properly, as you bent at the waist to check for the results, you felt his hand smack your ass heavily. “You’re lucky it’s not suede or you’d be fucked by now.” He stood behind you and bent over your spine, adhering to your backside. “And not in the nice way.” He stood up again. “Stay like this, Kitten, don’t you dare move.”

You heard the sound of the lid of your wipes coming off, then the sound of fabric. You didn’t dare move. Yoongi was very likely to look for revenge now, and you already had a high price to pay. In your peripherals you noticed him rubbing the wet wipe all over your vibrator, cleaning it up.

You knew it was your turn now. You just had to hope he was feeling merciful. He bent over you. “Stay put and it’ll be okay, love.” He said with lethal kindness. You heard a gentle thud to the floor, shorty followed by another. “I am kneeling behind you, Kitten. Are you okay with me eating you out like this?”

He was so attentive: it felt like he had a list of all your triggers memorised in his mind; he was always so careful when it came to your potential traumas and insecurities. You weren’t new to receiving oral sex, however to you sometimes it felt very intimate and your worries kept you from freeing your mind and enjoying the experience fully.

“It’s okay.” You mewled.

“You can stop me anytime, love.” He said softly, kissing the back of your thighs, licking the thin stretch marks there. He loved all those small signs, the way they showed the tide of your skin, the way it made sense, the way you looked realer than anything he’s ever dreamed. He was in love with all your freckles and moles, wrinkles, the squishy part of your belly and waist and hips, the little hairs on your navel. He felt real when with you. He felt a little bit less surrounded by that artificial, polished world that looked like a simulation. He felt like he was allowed some small chance of normality, of reality with you. No skinny models with made-up personality, no fame or ego, just being two people facing each other, telling each other how it feels to be human.

Throughout all of his meditation he delivered small bites and kisses on the skin of your thighs and ass, tracing the outline of your labia, enjoying the plush softness.

You moaned out his name, pressing into him. “I know I’ve been bad, just… Please.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologise for.” He murmured, kissing your slit. “I deserved it.” He licked you slowly, from your mound to your entrance, the tip of his tongue digging in and collecting the wetness oozing out of you. “I neglected you.” He licked you again, nuzzling the raw skin of your inner labia with his lips. He kept his lips there, breathing softly through his mouth. “I love you, Kitten.” He kissed you there. “Love you so much, baby.” He murmured before you heard the buzz of the vibrator. He wasn’t toying around with you: he wrapped his arm around your leg, nuzzling the toy against your folds until he heard you whine. "Found it?" He asked, referring to your clit.

"Right there." You moaned.

He flattened his tongue against your folds, rolling it until they were spread wide, exposing your most tender nerves to the violent vibrations.

"Yoongi, I'm gonna cum." You whimpered, pressing yourself into him.

He wanted you to. He didn't care, couldn't care less of the amount of times you edged him earlier: he wanted to see you undone. He wished he could tell you, however he felt like it was more important for his mouth to stay on your cunt. He wanted you to know that you were allowed, that he wasn't going to deny you. He simply reached for your hand, placing his on top of yours on the cushion. Suddenly you started grinding your hips, riding his tongue, your free hand wrapping around his wrist, helping him place the bullet where you needed it. The fact that you were almost silent, holding your breath and gasping every time he spread your slick to the apex of your labia, so that the vibrator could slide more comfortably.

Your high hit you like a tide, your knees buckling underneath you, Yoongi's hand leaving yours so he could use his arm to stabilise you. Your hand on his wrist invited him to remove the toy, your position not safe and steady enough to allow any type of overstimulation, meanwhile his tongue battled with the contractions of your inner wall as he slipped it in just enough to stimulate the small muscle at the back, where you were always most responsive. He felt proud at knowing these small tricks, these little details that he had discovered with keen exploration and observation. Every body has their shortcuts to pleasure, though not all people are the same. He had learnt that some things that set his exes on fire to you were completely indifferent, meanwhile stuff that his exes refused could turn you into putty in his hands.

"Yoongi, that's okay.” You moaned, slipping away from him. He parted from your skin, gently pressing a kiss to your labia.

"Are you okay, Kitten?" He asked before running his hand to your breasts, cupping one softly, secretly searching for your heartbeat.

"I think I'm a little shook." You giggled. "It was… Very intense." You exhaled and laughed.

He kept kissing your thighs. You knew that that meant something. "I wanna try something but if it's too much we can stop here." He spoke delicately, his lips tickling your skin.

"Now I'm curious." You said, tired but mischievous still.

"Lemme show you." You heard him shuffle around a bit as he removed his sweater and placed it on the floor. He just hoped he wouldn't make a mess. From his kneeling position he shifted and sat on the oversized garment, thanking God that it wasn't as cold as he expected. He reclined his head on the seat of the sofa as your gaze met his.

"Am I going to ride your face?" You asked with a knowing smirk.

"Smart kitty." He said, mirroring your expression. "Knees on the cushion. Come on babe."

Shaking your head and smiling, you followed his order, your hands looking for support on the back of the sofa. "I'm afraid I'm gonna crush you." You said, even though you loved looking at him like this. His hair was a mess around him, his eyes so dark and intense that it felt like he was ready to drag you to hell and back with himself.

“It’s okay, you’re small. I can help you.” He said, placing his hands on your butt, squeezing. “I’m happy to help.” He grinned and you grinned back at him. You loved that both your brains shared the same perverted paths following the same dirty cues. “I wanna suck your clit, but I don’t know if it’ll work for you since you had the vibrator there.” He said, spreading small bites on your thighs.

“It’s okay. No need to make me cum.” You reasoned, openly refusing that a sexual experience can be successful only if culminating in an orgasm.

“I hate how you’re always ready to give up on your pleasure.” He said, getting argumentative. “I’m doing this to please you.”

“You can please me without making me cum.” You argued back. “It’s not like— Holy fuck!” You screamed, your shoulders giving out. His arm holding your ass up while his other hand held the tip of the vibrator against the underside of his tongue. “You’re fucking wicked.” You swore as your clit disappeared between his upper lip and his pink, filthy tongue. “Fuck Yoongi, you’re the best.”

He exhaled through his nose in some sort of a snicker, pushing on the small button to increase the vibration.

“Oh God. Yoongi— Fuck, like that.” You squealed as you felt him suck you in with wet, slurping noises. “Love.” You said, worry veining your voice. “I’m gonna make a mess.” You warned before raising your hips, parting from his mouth. “Wait.”

He removed the vibrator, opening and closing his mouth quickly before speaking to retrain his tongue muscles. “It’s okay.” He breathed, brushing his cheek against your thigh.

“You’re gonna get wet and smell like sex on the way back home.” You reminded him.

“I can rinse in the bathroom quickly, plus we’re driving by ourselves in the car.” He murmured. “We can if you want to.” He said, reassuringly.

“Get back in place then.” You teased, gently pressing yourself down on his pout and grinding coquettishly. He laughed with his mouth close, digging his fingers into your ass, which made you raise your hips with a small jump.

“I love you so fucking much, Kitten.” He murmured. “Don’t you dare forget that, ____.” He switched the vibrator on, all the way up. “Ready, kitty cat?”

“Bring it on, mister.”

He laughed and got to work. You were pretty sure that the moans you were emitting, joined with the wet, sucking sound that came from Yoongi’s tongue on your drenched clit would probably expose the two of you to the whole floor, and possibly more.

If you had been any more lucid you would have thought of poor mr. Kang guarding the building from the reception, but probably — hopefully — he was far enough not to hear a thing.

Yoongi sped up his game, willing and ready to bring you to the edge once more. He reduced the pressure on your clit, allowing the vibration to travel faster, with less resistance and more power. He shifted his grip from his plush upper lip to the edge of his front teeth, simply grazing your nub as he caressed it with his tongue.

“Yoongi. So sensitive.” You gasped through a muffled moan, your hand pressing against your mouth as you lowered your gaze. He was there, eyes closed, enjoying the feel of you, focusing on each movement, on the taste of you, on your sounds, your heat. Opening his eyes, he winked, realising that he had one last trick up his sleeve. He started brushing the vibrator up and down the underside of his tongue, the act mildly resembling a thrusting motion that had your hips undulating, your breath stopping in your throat.

The high built and built so that when it snapped, you didn’t even realise it, submerging you like a tide, like a small boat in a maelstrom: you felt each roll of your hips, each movement of the vibrator in that straight line underneath Yoongi’s tongue. The high was there, but you still hadn’t felt the peak. You were ready to give up when he slid the bullet off his tongue and into your entrance, pressing it against the tender spot of your vagina, rubbing it as his lips latched to your clit.

“Fuck. Cumming.” You whined before biting your palm. His hand smacked your ass, repeatedly, delivering four or five slaps as if spurring you into riding his face. When he felt your release spill, he stretched his tongue, trying to collect as much wetness as he could, using the bridge of his nose to tease your clit while his mouth was busy. You gushed two, maybe three times before you removed your hand from your mouth, squealing his name and a string of swear words, your hand reaching down, trying to slap his toy-holding hand from between your legs. He understood your gesture and parted from your cunt entirely, letting you recover from the experience while he shut the buzzing device.

“I need in, sweet thing.” He murmured, climbing up clumsily and a little bit helplessly. You rose to your knees, letting him sit on the cushion, helping him fit against your body. “I’m gonna slide in, Kitten. I just need in. Promise.” He kept his sentences short, both for his urgency and your almost shut down brain. Gripping himself steady, he slipped in flawlessly, your drenched walls welcoming his shape, clinging to it and making him swear with how tight you felt right after an orgasm.

“Kitten, so tight.” He groaned, his face falling forward, hiding in the crook of your shoulder. His hips thrusted up while his hands toyed with your breasts, sliding into the shirt you were still wearing. His whole face felt damp against your neck, and you didn’t know if it was sweat or your juices or his saliva as he began drawing a pattern of hickeys on the top swell of your boob. “I can’t hold on.”

“Cum inside, please.” You murmured into his ear, licking the shell and biting the lobe, your hand gently cradling his skull as you enjoyed his grunts and pants against your throat.

As he hammered into you from below, you felt him reaching your cervix, your inner contractions making him come undone, his hands gripping your waist and angrily pushing you onto his lap. The squelching, crude sound, mixed up with his deep groans and the smacking of skin made you close your eyes as you registered every detail. You would come back to this night, when he would be gone, and you would relive it entirely, from start to finish, from the loneliness and coldness of being alone on the sofa, to the anger and revenge of the armchair, to the selfless, devoted attentions you had received twice on the sofa again, and finally this boy-man, hiding against your chest as he vulnerably withered before you.

“God, Kitten.” He breathed out chuckling. “Thank you so much, love. You’re perfect.” He murmured, caressing your back.

“Thanks to you too.” You spoke softly.

“I’m sorry for the last one. I got carried away, I didn’t make you—”

“If you say the verb ‘cum’ I am going to slap your pretty cheeks.” You threatened weakly. “You can do that in a few hours. Wake me up at three am and make sweet love to me.” You propositioned. “Though if I fall asleep, I might sleep for the next ten hours with no chances of being woken up.”

“We need sleep. Both of us.” He hugged you, searching for your hand, twining your fingers together. “But first we need a shower. And we need to rinse before we leave.”

“Closest toilet?” You asked, groaning a little at the idea of getting up, cleaning yourself and all the rest.

“Two rooms away.” He mumbled, his eyes droopy, his head leaning into your shoulder. “Are you feeling okay about everything? I know I pushed it when I left you alone and when I went down on you.” He commented.

“I think we cleared up the air about you ignoring me. It reminded me of when I was with my ex, which is exactly the reason why I bought the toy. He wasn’t happy I used it, but he never said anything or kept me from searching for my own pleasure. Sure though, this was my first time using it with someone. I’ve had a few people before as I said, but it was never… this.” You said, referring to your whole situation with Yoongi.

“How did you feel about how I went down on you?” He asked, always sympathetic.

“I loved it. But that vibrating tongue thingie was sooo kinky. How the hell did you come up with that?” You complimented him.

He chuckled. “I wanted to suck you and I wanted it to be a bit hardcore. It tickled like hell though.” He kissed your cheek. “I didn’t know it would work for you. I had never tried it before.”

“The vibrator was a big ally tonight.”

“Definitely the highlight of the night.” He conceded.

You leaned down and sucked his lower lip in your mouth, releasing it with a snap. “I love tasting myself on your mouth.”

He cupped your cheek. “You were amazing on that chair, love.” He praised you, making sure that he gratified you for something that your previous significant other had awfully taken for granted. “I’ll never forget these two covered in me.” He said, bending down to kiss each of your breasts.

“Is your neck okay?” You asked, worried about the way he had reclined his neck before while you sat on his face. “Are you cold?”

“My neck is a bit sore, but some hot water and stretching will solve it. And yeah, I’m a bit cold but it’s okay. Let's fix this place, get dressed and head home, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

"Then get up, lazy cat." He teased, poking your sides.

"I'm sleeping on the couch tonight." You murmured, teasing him as you raised your hips, getting off him.

“You’re sleeping in my bed and we both know it.” He helped you on your feet.

Your lips bent downward as you nodded. “I hate it when you’re right.”

As you turned and bent to gather your wipes he stared at his cum dripping out of your hole, staining your thighs. “Such a shame you’re in love with me,” he replied. His hands gripped your hips, blocking you while his tongue moved between your folds, delivering tiny licks with the tip of his tongue before covering your labia in soft kisses. "All clean, Kitten." He murmured, caressing your naked legs.

"You're the worst." You teased, before his short nails caused goosebumps on your skin.

He stood up behind you. "Fuck, look at this mess." He said, looking at the sofa. "Do we have enough wipes?"

"Oh God."

"No one's gotta know." He commented, and once more you were partners in crime, hiding your thousandth mischief.

You headed for the chair, throwing him his underwear and trousers.

He caught them.

"Bottle of water?" You asked.

"Fridge." He pointed as he slid his boxers on.

You picked up your undershirt, glad that it was a cheap deal, and headed to the small fridge, where you found the water, opening the bottle and pressing your balled up garment against the rim, wetting the fabric.

Next you knelt by the sofa, getting to work.

Yoongi lit a scented candle on the low table, spraying some perfume with a certain desperate motion. "Jeongguk will know. He can smell anything."

You shook your head while you poured some more water on your improvised rag. "Dammit we fucked up."

"Shut up, it was your idea." He taunted you while he found his sweater on the floor, checking it quickly before putting it on with a shiver. "Freezing. Shit."

Once you deemed the damage mostly solved, you grabbed your wipes and used one to eliminate the traces of the water. Checking that no stain remained, you moved on to dressing yourself.

"Have you seen my bra?" You asked.

"No." He murmured, offended, just as you noticed a familiar frill coming out of his bag.

"Why is my bra in your bag?"

"Your bra is not in my bag."

You raised an eyebrow, hooking said frill with your finger and fishing the garment out of his personal tote. "What is this?"

"A fancy hat." He said, barely holding back a laugh.

"Oh, so you're gonna wear that later when we head home?" You asked as you pressed one cup onto his head, the other hanging from the side while you clasped it around his face.

He simply shook it off, bending to kiss your lips. "Don't wear it." He whispered on your mouth.

"I won't." You replied, kissing it once more before placing it back in his bag.

Wearing your panties and buttoning your shirt, you left a couple buttons undone for his viewing pleasure.

He fixed the last few things, opening your coat and helping you wear it.

He fixed his own jacket and caught hold of your waist, placing you in front of him and wrapping his scarf around your neck and face. He kissed your forehead sweetly.

"Get your shoes, I'll do a quick checkup."

While you exited the room, he noticed a small glimmering coming from the crevice between the two cushions. Pushing his fingers in, he managed to pinch the object and pull it out.

He snickered, placing his small treasure before his eyes. "You served well, soldier. You deserve a night of rest. I'll recharge you and keep you safe until next time."

"Who you talking to?" You asked from the corridor.

"Nothing." He placed the vibrator in his pocket. "Coming." He blew on the candle and closed the door.

———————————————

"Hyung, you look well-rested." Jimin greeted him the following morning as he entered the training room.

"I bet he does." Namjoon quipped.

"HE FUCKED KITTEN IN THE STUDIO!" Hoseok announced. "Sorry, couldn't hold it in, you know I can't handle secrets." He said with a sad face, looking at Namjoon.

"Good for him." Taehyung replied.

Jimin looked amused while Jin shook his head, “Is that a good reason to be late, Yoongi? We've been waiting fifteen minutes–"

"Hyung, you arrived two minutes ago." Taehyung replied quietly while Jin shouted, "Shame on you! The disrespect!"

Jeongguk neared Yoongi, patting his shoulder. "I'm sorry I rat you out. I came in last night because you weren't at the dorms. I didn't know. I accidentally said it to Namjoon, Hoseok heard, everyone knows." Guk shrinked in his shoulders. "Sorry." He chirped.

However it was still too early and Yoongi was still too fucked out to care. "Let's just kill this choreo. We better finish soon 'cause I've got Kitten home in my bed to go back to."

Namjoon smirked. "Let's get it."

#bangtan sonyeondan #bts smut #bts imagine #bts headcanons #bangtan smut #bts scenario #yoongi x reader #yoongi imagine #min yoongi smut #yoongi scenario #min yoongi #yoongi fanfic #yoongi reaction #yoongi one shot

225 notes · View notes

ordonianhero · 3 years

Text

Hidden in the rain

(Time/Twilight/Wild)

Hurt/angst/comfort/Fluff

(One shot. Certain italic writing is the sound of a glass mirror breaking)

*****

The rain had been their company all the way through Wild’s Hyrule. The wind really not improving it either. The rain soaked through most of their gear and for many into sore spots on their body. A few of the them grumbled. “It’s like someone played the song of storms and forgot to quit.” Hissed the Veteran. “Sadly, my world just unforgiving like that.” Wild states in a slightly cold tone. He clutch at his cloak and hood tightly.

“You day we maybe near a cabin we all could stay in for the night?” Questioned the Captain. “Yeah, not far.” Replied Wild. He was absolutely done with the the questions and the lot. One more question and he may snap. The group traveled quietly. Time had just been observing the fact certain memebers of their group were more quiet then usual. A little spat had happen about a week back- half apologies said. While one continued to make some gripes- the other shut down all feelings (which was not in their nature) helping others.

He was watching as they struggled to sleep. Than in the morning go about like nothing. Like he wasn’t allowed to have feelings or voice them. Stared at the pup, whose pelt coved his head and face. Rain water soaking it, droplets dripping. He couldn’t really see too well, however the pups shoulders said it all. He knew occasionally the Pup and cub, like older brother and younger had their moments- however he felt something was said that did more damage than thought of. Twilight is a very emotional person.

His heart was beaming with such care for the others, he often would for go his own self needs. When wind when got injured and needed comfort- he was there along with the captain. When Hyrule need some form of validation, Twilight was there encouraging the young Traveler. When Sky just needed to talk about missing his partner- Twilight listened and when the Champion was suffering from his nightmares- he was there to give comfort as he always does. Time was in awe at his selfless acts. He also felt guilty as well. He hadn’t fully been there for Twilight in the past few weeks of their travel.

He was getting looks from Twilight, cues that he wanted to talk to him Or seeking something. However Time just didn’t have the Time to give as he had done in the past. So here they were. He was seeing a broken soul before him. The Pup still giving and giving- but absolutely shattered.

The nine Hero’s were walking passed a grave yard of Guardians, slicked by the rain. They quietly walked passed them. Wild hope nobody would ask about it. So far nobody did. As they passed under the archway of what use to be be a gate. He then turned their direction in to the thick woods. The trees swayed in the wind and the sound of the heavy rain hitting the leaves.

Everyone was relieved when the cabin was spotted. There was a spot where Twilight could safely put epona for the night. She shook her mane and body of the rain once in the stall. Twilight did his bed to help dry her off. She had put up with more than anything on this trip and she deserved a bit of pampering. He was pretty sure if Ilia has been around- he would get an earful. His heart pinged at the thought of his childhood friend. Tick. Memories flooding his head. He shook his head to chase them away. This was not the Time for for that. He fed his beloved mare and snuck her an apple, before he headed into the the cabin with the rest of the group.

He gathered up some of the spare logs in a sheltered spot beside the stalls. Making his way into the cabin. When he entered, the cabin felt warm. Warriors came over and took the bundle from Twilight. “That’s a smart move.” The Captain said with a smile. Twilight silently nodded to the praise. He removed his boots like the rest of the others had. Next removing his soaked pelt and hanging it by the door. He looked about where everyone was before making his way to a spot to claim his own.

The champion was making a hearty warm stew with some soft bread. Others conversed quietly. Some worked on mending their gear. Twilight removed his soaked gear and put on some dry ones. Hanging the damp one where a few others had. He the. Returned to his spot and pulled his blanket around his shoulders to avoid catching a cold. Then opened up a book he had been reading. Seem to be about the only thing he could think of to do. However his mind was heavy with emotions. He clenched his jaw fighting them off.

See you later. He quickly shut his eyes and quickly shook his head. Stretch. He stared more hardly at the page he was reading. He let out a painful sigh as his chest became tight. Four had taken noticed of Twilight’s demeanor. He was once again lost inside his mind and wasn’t himself. Time, had taken to sit beside the Captain, who was proudly going on about one of his battles he was in. The Old man listened, but every few moments would look over at Twilight. Seeing them clenched and unclench their jaw. Fighting off all their emotions.

A few moments later, the Champion had stated the soup was ready and for everyone to come and get it. Which everyone, well almost every came to get their helping of warm soft bread and a warm hearty soup. Twilight didn’t move. The Champion scowled and then made a snarky comment “starve then you brooding clod.” Which resulted a glare from Time. However Twilight had not heard what had been said cause of how lost inside he was in is own head. The Champion backed down after getting a look. Time went and got Twilight’s bowl and filled it and walked it over to them.

Twilight hadn’t realized he was lost in though till he was tapped lightly by Time, who held out some soup and bread. “Sorry, got a bit into my book again. Thank you.” He gave the Old man a soft and warm smile. The old man gave him a warm smile back. Twilight set the bowl down beside him ad then went back to his book. Time took a seat back beside the captain who happily shared a bit of his drink with him and that of age. Wind huffing when he got turned down. Which gain a chuckle from others. Twilight hadn’t noticed. The captain then went to make his way to offer a bit to Twilight, but Time stopped him and shook his head.

“Don’t think it’s a wise situation right now.” He explained, then quietly nodded to the untouched bowl of soup. Warriors took a swig. Then handed back to Time. “He been acting weird.” The Captain then stared. Which only got a “mhm” from the old man. “What you think it is?” The Captain asked. “Oh he just brooding, like he always is.” Stated Wild, before Time could say anything. Four rolled his eyes and let out a sigh. “What, it’s true.” Replied the Champion.

“Yeah, however you remember what the old man said, ‘some scars can’t been seen.’ That maybe his case.” Said Sky. “Well it not my problem if he chooses to not heal them.” Scoffed the Champion. Time was growing irritated at this point. Several other memebers too. “Little empathy goes a long way bucko. However much you may not understand what someone else is going through- the effort he has put out to be there for us without asking for anything in return. Yeah it may not be your problem, but have you ever once being there for him when he needed something?” Snapped Legend.

Twilight was snapped out of his thought when he started hearing an argument going on. Legends hand gesturing towards him. Time watched as twilight coward and seem to slink into his blanket as his eyes darted looking at the the group. He looked at the Cub, who looked frustrated at them all. He kept his mouth shut. That seem to be the end of the argument. For now. Twilight knew though that there was thin ice on the cubs side. Twilight looked down at his bow of soup, now growing cold.

Everyone then went back to eating quietly. Reeeeek. Twilight closed his book and took up the bowl of soup. He softly made his way to the Champion and gently tapped his shoulder, “sorry I am not really hungry. You are welcome to my half.” He said kindly. “Wasteful, if you had known that should of said something earlier then waiting.” Champion snatched the bowl and point it into his own. Shatter. Twilight sighed closing his eyes and let out a long sigh. Turning and made his way back to his corner and pulled the blanket around his shoulders and curled up. No point to dealing with that. His mind said. Burying his head under the blanket.

The whole group was stunned. Had the Champion really lash out at something so simple as a soft none lethal comment. To only bite the other. Out of line and uncalled for. Why was the Champion being such a piss ant? Time suggested they all help with clean up and let Wild and Twilight be. He then ordered Wild to go to bed as soon as he was done. Maybe some sleep would do him some good.

****

3:30am. Time grew aware the room was colder then before. The fireplace had a few warm ambers glowing. He shifted into a sitting position. Than made his way quietly to put on a few logs to warm up the cabin again. The rain was pelting the cabin. The logs lit, quickly making the room warm again. He looked about at all the sleeping bodies. A few had taken to sleeping snuggles up with someone for comfort and warms. He rubbed his hands together and breathed into them tonwarm them up as he padded softly back to his own sleeping spot.

He was about to climb under his blanket when he heard the soft sounds of shuttering and gasping. He looked about to where the sound was coming from. His eye then landed of the corner which Twilight was. His shoulders were shaking and it was like he was fighting off something. Nightmare? Time gathered up his bed roll and blanket. making his way over and then proceed to lay next to the Pup. He gently touched their shoulder. He felt them tense up, their head turning slightly to look at them. He saw the sorrow and hurt in the pups eyes. He then in the most fatherly way scooped them up in his arms and held him.

“Oh pup.” And with that the tears started flowing from the youth’s eyes. It pained Time to witness it. All this built up emotion from being shut down and allowed to feel. Twilight buried his face into Time’s arms, ashamed. Time just gently ran his fingers through the pup’s hair and offering soothing words as twilight quietly sobbed into Time. Afraid to be allowed to feel one ounce of such selfish emotion. Like he should have all ready moved on from feeling how he felt. “It’s okay pup. You are allowed to feel how you feel.” He hears Time gently whispering in his ear and gently stroking his hair.

Twilight cried till there was nothing left, Time continuing to soothingly speak to him. Till he felt the pup fall into a slumber, softly breathing. Time continued gently stroking their hair. He looked up to the window where the first light of morning started streaming through. Must of been some time, cause first light was at 7am. He spotted that the Champion had woken at some point. He was looking over at where Time was. He got up and grabbed his blanket and came to the other side of Twilight and Time, sandwiching twilight, who was clutching to Time’s shirt. Sleeping, his face still damp from crying. He cuddled up against Twilightls back. Placing a hand against and and whispered, “I’m sorry.” Time stopped stroking twilight’s hair and gently brushed the Champion’s hair. In a gentle mannor. The two then settled down back to sleep. Comforting Twilight. As they slept.

Fin.

Authors note: I sort of wrote this in a cathartic way. Personal. With everything that has been going on. Emotions are running high. I do try and stay strong and hold my head high. It’s been a year now I haven’t seen my fiancé since Canada cosed the boreder To travelers. I am missing them dearly. I know everyone is going through something. So I try not to add my own stuff onto others. Which sort of been resulting in sleepless nights or night where I am breaking down and crying. Wishing I had someone holding me and telling me things will be okay. Though I do have friends, I don’t really have anyone I can do that with cause well- social distancing policy. My father’s and I have immune systems that are at high ricks to the virus. So yeah. This was the next best way tonreally get it out and feel a form of comfort. So uh- hope you like it. Sorry for grammar issues. I am writing from emotions. Thanks for reading.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #lu twilight #lu time #lu wild #hurt/angst #comfort/fluff #linked universe fanfic #one shot #sorry if I make you cry while reading this #I don’t often write wild this snappy #maybe I can sleep now

46 notes · View notes

the-little-crime-writer · 4 years

Photo

DiAngelo is the only survivor of the largest mass suicide on American soil. He found the bodies of his 39 friends lying with plastic bags over their heads, wearing neat black tracksuits with an 'Away Team' patch and Nike trainers. Now we discover why he was left behind...

It was midday when Rio DiAngelo arrived at the hilltop mansion overlooking San Diego to find all the windows closed, the curtains drawn, and outdoor lights burning in the sunshine. The front door was locked, but he found a side door ajar and warily pushed it open.

The unmistakable stench of death made him gag and he covered his face with his shirtsleeve, which still smelled of cologne from his morning shower. As he walked through the eerie silence, he knew what he would find. And he dreaded it. Upstairs, 39 of his friends lay dead in their beds after the largest mass suicide on American soil. All members of a bizarre cult, they had each downed a lethal cocktail of vodka, barbiturates and apple sauce to leave their 'earthly containers' and join an alien spaceship trailing the Hale-Bopp comet.Yelling out in case anyone was still alive, DiAngelo raced from room to room. But all he found were bodies with plastic bags over their heads. Each one wore a neat black tracksuit with an 'Away Team' patch and Nike trainers with their comet-trail trademark. The 21 women and 18 men had each packed a small bag for the journey, and have five dollars in their pocket. Thoughtful to the end, each had left a note saying. 'I forced myself to go into each room and check everyone,' said DiAngelo. 'With each body I came across, the loss became too much to bear. They were my closest friends. I loved them dearly.'

DiAngelo, who's real name is Richard Ford, became involved with the Heaven's Gate Cult in 1994 after attending one of their meetings in a California hotel or 'Cultifornia' as sceptics often call the state that spawned Charles Manson and the Reverend Jim Jones. He had listened while nine androgynous-looking members wearing identical loose clothes and cropped hair described their absolute belief in aliens, the paranormal, and reincarnation. One of them was 59 year old Thomas Nichols whose sister, Nichelle, played Star Trek's Lieutenant Uhura. Forbidden to have sex, hug each other, or even shake hands, the Heaven's Gate cultists concentrated on purifying their bodies and spirits ready for the move to 'an advanced level of being' on another planet or dimension. They called each other brother or sister, observed daily rituals, and were allowed to watch only selected TV programmes. Individual needs were minimised so that a member who had run out of deodorant, for example, would have to apply for a new one in writing.Anyone entering the immaculately clean mansion referred to as 'the temple' had to take off their shoes and wear surgical socks. Silence prevailed, and many of their neighbours assumed they were 'a bunch of monks.' In line with their belief that they had been sent to earth as angels, six members were castrated and, according to DiAngelo, 'they couldn't stop smiling and giggling about it.'

On some days, members had to report to their superiors every 12 minutes while on other days they were required to wear a cone on their heads as they would in alien bodies. Many common words were changed so that members would not remember their human past once they had ascended into space. For instance, house became 'craft' and kitchen became 'nutri-lab.' Their 65 year old leader Marshall Applewhite had started the cult in 1972 with Bonnie Nettles whom he had met while undergoing treatment for homosexuality in a psychiatric hospital. They had abandoned their human names and called themselves Guinea and Pig, then Bo and Peep, before finally settling on Do and Ti.Ti died of cancer in 1985, But Do, claiming he was Jesus reincarnated, said he continued to communicate with her. The group survived financially by running a successful web page design firm which they also used to try and win converts and spread their message. Their own website featured pictures of stars and nebulae downloaded from NASA and appeared very businesslike. It also stated that suicide is acceptable for cult members who want to ascent to 'a higher level of life.' Heaven's Gate shared some of the beliefs of 19th century occultists like novelist Mark Twain. In 1907, Twain wrote a short story about a hero leaving Earth for 'an extended excursion among the heavenly bodies' on the trail of a comet. He took his passport and five dollars for the fare. Despite their fantastic beliefs, DiAngelo was converted and lived in this eccentric community for nearly three years. I'd just turned forty and recently divorced and I was trying to find meaning in life,' he said. 'I'd had a fairly troubled past that included a violent, unstable mother and other bad relationships. The group shared my interest in UFOs, music and Eastern Religions.

But in, December 1995, Do's teaching took a more sinister turn and DiAngelo later recalled that he 'sat us all down and told us that we might have to leave our bodies behind. Amazingly, we didn't really have a problem with that. We trusted Do implicitly. 'We found a suicide recipe that used phenobarbital, vodka and apple sauce, and Do and some of his helpers went to Mexico to buy enough of the drug for the entire group.' Eleven months later, an amateur astronomer took a photo of the Hale-Bopp comet, which showed a mysterious oval-shaped object trailing in its wake. Although NASA later described it a 'proto-comet' 2,000 miles behind Hale-Bopp, other astronomers dismissed the sighting as a hoax or error. Hale-Mary, as it was called, has not been seen since. Do, however, convinced his followers that it was a spaceship coming to take them away and that his deceased partner, Ti, was flying it. Seeing significance in everything, he told then that Hale-Bopp even had the same initials as Helena Blavatsky, another 19th century occultist with whom the group shared beliefs. Having decided on this 'Star-gate' plan, the group prepared to enjoy a final spree on Earth by spending some surplus money. They went to Las Vegas and stayed at the Stratosphere Hotel, and rode the rollercoaster and the Big Shot free-fall ride. A week later they went to see Star Wars and visited the San Diego wild animal park and Sea World. For their 'last supper,' they booked a table for 39 at a local restaurant where waiter Eric Morales was struck by their politeness and helpfulness. 'From the moment they arrived, all austerely dressed and looking the same, I knew this would be no ordinary shift,' he said. 'I made a joke to sort of set the mood and when I returned to their table five minutes later they were still laughing at it. You could tell they didn't get out a lot. 'All thirty nine ordered exactly the same: turkey pie, salad, blueberry cheesecake and iced tea. They were very pleasant, but guarded. When asked where they were from they said things like 'from the car' and 'from all over.' Six days later, employees at the restaurant watched news footage in amazement when they realised the oddball diners they had served had gone straight home and killed themselves. 'It was the last time they were going to be together,' said Morales. 'The bill came to three hundred and fifty one dollars which included a twenty six dollar tip. Our manager was so taken with them, he stood in the doorway and shook hands with each one as they left.' A month before the suicides, DiAngelo decided he wanted to leave the commune. He moved to Beverly Hills, and began working for a web design company. 'I left with Do's permission,' he said/. 'I told him I felt I had something to do outside...like a task. I think part of it was to explain to the world the philosophy of Heaven's Gate and the sort of people they were. Be an instrument of clarification. 'I believed Do was from another planet. He taught me to be more aware, honest and sensitive to the world. In short, a better person. What I gained from the group was phenomenal.

On March 27th, 1997, a parcel arrived at DiAngelo's office. It contained an upbeat farewell video and a message saying: 'By the time you read this we will have exited our bodies.' 'There was no mention of sadness or fear, but rather an air of excitement and anticipation. The cult he called 'his closest brothers and sisters' were aged between 26 and 72 and are believed to have died in three groups - 15 the first day, 15 the next, and nine on the third. In the heat of the Californian spring, many of the bodies had already begun to decompose by the time DiAngelo discovered them. Eager to be helpful, they cleaned up after each round of dying and had even taken out the rubbish. Police found handguns, rifles, and ammunition at the mansion which DiAngelo believed Marshall Applewhite had assembled because he feared a Waco-like siege by the FBI. He had also spent, $1,000 on an insurance policy that would pay out a million dollars each for up to 50 people in the event of abduction by aliens. The company said Heaven's Gate were one of 4,000 policyholders worldwide who had bought alien abduction insurance, with Britain and the USA being their biggest markets. The aftermath of the Heaven's Gate deaths was predictably prosaic. San Diego County planned to auction off their belongings - worth an estimated $1 million and give the proceeds to surviving family members. But DiAngelo claimed that his brothers and sisters wanted him to inherit the web design firm and announced his intention of settling the matter in court. Neighbours living on the same street as the group campaigned to change it's name after crowds of 'strange visitors' kept arriving to pray there. And the $1.6 million mansion itself proved unsellable because of it's gruesome associations and the obstinate smell of formaldehyde in its air conditioning. Two months after the suicide pact, two former members of Heaven's Gate also tried to 'exit their earthly vehicles' in a Holiday Inn four miles from the cult's mausoleum. They were dressed and prepared exactly the same as their departed brothers and sisters. One died immediately. The other was found unconscious, and went on to evangelise for the cult, touring the country with a 70-minute video of the bug-eyed Marshall Applewhite. He killed himself the following year in Heaven's Gate style after telling his friends that he would 'rather gamble on missing the bus this time than stay on this planet and risk losing my soul.' DiAngelo went on to apply the computer skills he had learned from Heaven's Gate to his earthly life. He auctioned off the cult's van on eBay and signed a deal to write a TV movie based on his experiences. But the project never got off the ground. A tabloid offered him $1 million for exclusive rights to his story. At the time he refused, preferring to preserve the dignity of his departed friends. Upon reflection, he later said he should have taken the money. 'I've been on a rollercoaster over the last decade,' he said in 2007. 'I still miss my friends so much and I still haven't met anyone who can compare to them. Not a day goes by that I don't think about them. 'I'm the last Heaven's Gate member on Earth, so there must be a reason why I'm still here. But although I still want to live like them, dying like them definitely isn't part of my plan.' DiAngelo re-established contact with his 19 year old son and confessed he was now 'a slave to commerce like everybody else.' Ten years on he was still haunted by the events of that terrible day, but relieved that he didn't join his friends in the mass suicide which shocked the world. The group's website is still maintained by two individuals allegedly surviving members who left after 12 years to get married (forbidden within the group which prized gender-free platonic relationships) prior to the group's exodus to the 'Next Evolutionary Level.' They confirmed in a statement on the 20th anniversary of the mass suicide that Heaven's Gate no longer existed but that the site remained available to those seeking information about their beliefs.

The world's fascination with the extraordinary actions Heaven's Gate undertook is yet to abate...

#Heaven's Gate Cult #Marshall Applewhite #rio diangelo #Richard Fort #Mass Suicide #tcc crime #tcc post #tcc cults #tcc blog #true crime #true crime community #real crime #real deaths #religious cults #dangerous cults #The Serial Killer Chronicles #my blog #follow for more

380 notes · View notes

inevitably-johnlocked · 4 years

Note

Hey so I've recently been craving sport themed Johnlock (Excluding Rugby because it's kinda overused though 100% understandable). Either one could be doing the sport I just wanted something sporty. Preferably long and kinda angsty but just sporty will do-

Hi Nonny!

Sure! You’re in luck because I haven’t really read any Rugby John, LOL. You’re getting all the sports AUs I have :) I thought I did this list already but apparently not hahah :P Here you are!

SPORTS

See also:

Alexx’s Sports AU List

YorkiePug’s Sports AU List

Summit Fever by J_Baillier (M, 78,802 w., 18 Ch. || Mountain Climber AU || POV John, Angst, Tragedy, Suicidal Ideation, The Himalayas, Mountain Guide / Doctor John, Mount Climber Sherlock, Loneliness, Drama, Suspense, Slow Burn, Injured Sherlock / Sherlock Whump, Pining John) – After graduating from medical school, John Watson followed his heart to the Himalayas. Ten years later, he's a haunted cynic working for his ex-lover's trekking and mountaineering company. Will leading an expedition to Annapurna I—the most lethal of all the world's highest mountains—shake John out of his reverie, and who is the mystery client added to the group at the last minute?

Thermocline by J_Baillier (M, 83,557 w., 14 Ch. || Scuba Diving AU || Adventure, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Marine Archaeology, Asexual Sherlock, Horny John, Relationship Drama, Technical/Scuba/Wreck Diving, Slow Burn, Underwater / Medical Peril, Doctor John, Hurt Sherlock, Anxious Sherlock, John POV, Protective John, Body Appreciation) – John "Five Oceans" Watson — technical dive instructor, dive accident analyst and weapon of mass seduction — meets recluse professor of maritime archaeology Holmes. As they head out to a remote archipelago off the coast of Guatemala to study and film its shipwrecks for a documentary, will sparks fly or fizzle out?

Uphill by scullyseviltwin (E, 84,945 w., 18 Ch. || Olympics AU || Sherlock POV, Skier!Sherlock / Medic!John, Rivalry, 2014 Olympics, Happy Ending) – Sherlock Holmes is striving for gold in this, his fourth and final Olympics as a downhill Alpine racer.

Eyes Up, Heels Down by CodenameMeretricious (E, 107,845 w., 43 Ch. || Sports Equestrian AU || Fluff, Angst, Humour, Rider!Sherlock, Groomer!John, Show Jumping, Slow Burn, Happy Ending) – Sherlock is a top eventing rider currently training at Baker Farms. John is the new groom who's been told to steer clear of the surly rider and his horses. Part 1 of Baker Farms

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w., 11 Ch. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

The Bang and the Clatter by earlgreytea68 (M, 137,049 w., 37 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Baseball AU || Slow Burn / Dev. Rel., Possessive/Obsessive Sherlock, Jealous Sherlock, Mutual Pining, Body Appreciation, Depression, Closeted Sexuality, Family, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Ogling Each Other, Anxious Sherlock, Panic Attack, Drunkenness, Talk of Forever, Big Feelings™) – Sherlock Holmes is a pitcher and John Watson is a catcher. No, no, no, it's a baseball AU. Part 1 of Baseball

Gimme Shelter by SinceWhenDoYouCallMe_John (E, 159,368 w., 21 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || 70′s Surfer AU || Period Typical Homophobia, Hawaii, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Professional Surfers, Gay John / Sherlock, Angst with Happy Ending, John was a Sailor, Misunderstandings, Mutual Pining) – All John Watson wants is the feeling of a freshly waxed surfboard under his feet and the hot California sun baking down onto his back. To finally go pro in the newly formed world of professional surfing and leave the dark memories of his past behind him as he rips across the face of a towering blue barrel. To lounge beside the beach bonfire every evening with an ice cold beer tucked into the cool sand beside him and listen to Pink Floyd and the Doors while the saltwater dries in his sun bleached hair. That's all he wants, that is, until the hot young phenom taking Oahu and the Hawaiian shores by storm steps up next to him in the sand in the second round of the 1976 International Surf Competition. (PUBLISHED AS ‘The Sea Ain’t Mine Alone’)

MARKED FOR LATER

Emblaze Our Hearts by antietamfalls (T, 7,970 w., 1 Ch. || Olympics AU || Skeleton Luger Sherlock, Biathlete John, Drunkenness, Texting, Memory Loss) – A night of celebratory drinking leads to a mystery in the Olympic village. Who is this "SH" person with whom John apparently spent the night, and why did they disappear with John's most prized possession?

On The Fence by BeautifulFiction (T, 13,770 w., 1 Ch. || Fencing, Case Fic, First Kiss) – The murder of the King's College fencing champion leads to revelations about Sherlock's past. Will it be the point that tips them from friends to lovers, or will they remain on the fence? (sorry, not an AU, but since this is a new story, I want to promote it, LOL.)

A Hooligans’ Game Played By Gentlemen by scullyseviltwin (E, 15,213 w., 1 Ch. || Rugby AU || First Time, Rugby as Foreplay, Porn with Lots of Plot) – In which John wants to get back in shape, does so, joins a rugby league and has sex with Sherlock Holmes. In that order.

Forces of Nature by Ewebie (E, 18,369 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock || Rugby Captain John, Hammock Sex, Bad Jokes) – Sherlock watched as the man pushed himself out of the water and onto the floating dock constantly anchored in the middle of the lake. Oh. He was… He was quite tanned. Broad shoulders sloped into a narrow, muscular waist and tapered hips that disappeared into the navy swim trunks. Somehow the breadth of the shoulders made the thighs and legs that appeared out of the bottom of the trunks look delicate. Tanned in their own right and powerful, but oddly proportionate to the shorter stature the man seemed to possess. Sherlock watched the water run off of him, down his back, tracing a path along his spine and through the pleasing fossae lumbales laterales and lumbar lordosis into the waistband of the trunks. Sherlock swallowed. Shit.

Sticking the Landing by SweetMandolins (M, 44,826 w. 17 Ch. || Olympics AU || Gymnast John, Ballet Dancer Sherlock, Rhythmic Gymnastics, Falling in Love, Fluff, Mutual Pining, Bisexual John, Muscular John, Humour, Jealous John, Side Mystrade) – John Watson, Captain of Team GB’s gymnastics squad is confident and primed for his third and final Olympics. Disappointed in London with a shoulder injury putting paid to his Olympic dream, can he secure an Olympic gold finish before retirement? Meanwhile, Sherlock Holmes has other problems. Men’s Rhythmic Gymnastics is the newest Olympic sport, but a series of peculiar accidents both on and off the floor have taken out some of the competitors. Does something more sinister lurk under the spangles and spandex? Can Sherlock solve the mystery in time to deliver a flawless ball routine? And does something more valuable than medals await the boys in Rio?

Fly Very High by yalublyutebya (E, 46,533 w., 31 Ch. || Formula One / Car Racing AU || Rivalry, Permanent Injury, Hate Sex, Angry Sex) – John Watson was born to be a racing driver, and even a crash isn't enough to keep him out of a car for long. But coming back is not that easy, especially when he meets his new teammate, Sherlock Holmes. Part 2 of the Formula One AU series

Working on the Edges by earlgreytea68 (M, 56,089 w., 16 Ch. || Olympics AU || Hockey Player John, Ice Skater Sherlock) – No matter where you put Sherlock and John, they click. Including the Winter Olympics.

Full Court Press by MissDavis (E, 126,123 w. || College Basketball AU || Unilock, Masturbation, Homophobia, First Kiss / Time, Oral/Anal, Coming Out, Switchlock, Blowjobs) – Sherlock Holmes has accepted a scholarship to play basketball at the College of St. Bartholomew's. He expects to be their star player and turn the team's losing record around. He does not expect to fall in love with the team's captain, a certain scrappy point guard named John Watson. Or: Sherlock is the team's best shooter. John is the team's best ball-handler.

Boyfriend Material by PoppyAlexander (E, 151,282 w., 58 Ch. || American Hockey AU || Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Closeted John, POV John, Pining, Casual Sex / Hook Ups, Rom-Com) – Boston Brawlers' team captain John Watson longs for two things: a championship before he retires, and a boyfriend. Assigned to room with goaltender Sherlock Holmes--known around the league as both a genius and a "weird dude"– on Brawlers' roadtrips, John discovers the things they have in common that lead to an easy friendship and a convenient arrangement.

Slipstream by khorazir (M, 173,186+ w., 14/25 Ch. || WIP || Tour de France / Sports Cycling AU || Room Sharing, Cycling Injuries, Discussions of Drugs/Doping, Awkward Romance, Hurt/Comfort, Bickering, Case Fic, Strangers to Friends to Lovers, Internalized Homophobia, Mutual Pining, Bed Sharing, Jealousy) –It’s going to be the last Tour de France for professional cyclist John Watson. Despite the hardships of cycling more than 3000 kilometres in three weeks, in blistering heat and torrential rain, over dangerous cobblestones in northern France and the mountains of the Alps and the Pyrenees, battling thirst, hunger, injury and exhaustion, not to mention bitchy rivals, doping allegations, and the ever scoop-hungry press, he is going to enjoy the ride, damn it. That’s what John keeps telling himself – until he meets his new teammate, Sherlock Holmes, who adds a whole new list of problems as well as an extra dose of excitement to John’s life.

Red Lights Out by days_of_storm (E, 333,458 w., 103 Ch. || Formula One / Car Racing AU || Mechanic John, Driver Sherlock, UST, Friendship, Pre-Slash, Romance, Perfect Cooperation, Accidents, Manipulation, Slow Burn) – John Watson is an overqualified mechanic and former rally driver who works for McLaren. Silverstone GP is impending when he meets Sherlock Holmes, a prodigy driver whom nobody takes seriously, except for McLaren boss Greg Lestrade.

#steph replies #johnlock fic recs #sports au #my fic recs #Anonymous #fic rec sunday

153 notes · View notes

atlas-of-a-human-soul · 4 years

Text

The Bad Guy, pt. 3 - Haunted (Gang AU)

Summary: Grayson’s attempt to pull out of his gang related business seems futile as his past comes back to haunt him. Deciding to keep it a secret only brings more issues as it creates a distance between him and Y/N he can’t bridge.

Warnings: angst, fluff, SMUT, injuries, blood, death, swearing...

Word count: 18.5k

The Bad Guy - Series Masterlist

Frowning, my eyes struggle to adjust to the light basking my skin, squinting to try and get a better view of the perpetrator although I know it's him.

If anything was certain about Grayson Dolan it was his love for sunrise and while I'm far from a morning person, waking up to watch his mesmerized gaze has become the epitome of a full life.

Quietly, afraid to startle him and ruin my favorite view, I stand up too, fighting the lightheaded feeling swaying me from side to side, nearly blinding me for a moment or two.

And I stand there, silently watching this beautiful, handsome specimen I still can't believe is mine. I watch him with fervor, with a fire unequaled to any volcano. And I admire him - every muscle, every scar, every mark life had left on his body.

He could have any woman he lays his eye on and yet he chose me? Sometimes I think it's a dream, a cosmic joke to give me everything I ever wanted before ripping it away once reality sets in, but it's not. He's here and he is mine and even after countless, nearly lethal obstacles, I can't fathom regretting being a part of his world.

Meeting Grayson Dolan has been the highlight of my life and I count my lucky stars every day as I thank the universe for giving me a chance to not only love a man as magnificent as him, but also be loved by him.

To be loved by Grayson Dolan is a powerful thing, a force of nature that is all consuming. It's a blessing and he might not agree with me on this, but if I had a chance to do it all again? I'd choose him over and over until I am nothing but ash and dust.

Perhaps we aren't the luckiest lovers in the world, but we're far from Romeo and Juliet. They had tragedy sown in their souls, but we have the space to make our own destiny and I am determined to make it a happy one.

Stalking toward him on my tiptoes, I smile when I'm almost behind him, my arms instinctively reaching for his waist and I sense his gentle gasp as my hands glide under his arms and over his stomach. I lay my head to rest between his shoulder blades, listening to the soft breathing reminding me how lucky I am to be alive - how lucky I am he's alive.

His arms reach back and his hands rest awkwardly on my back, and I know he's smiling. He's appreciating the beauty before him as much as the tenderness of my love for him.

If Grayson knows one thing for sure it's how my love for him will always trump my love for sleep and I'm not sure he will ever truly get used to that.

We remain silent, enjoying each other's company and sweetness of another morning we get to spend together, all until the alarm clock screeches and we both jump at the loudness.

Turning around, his hands move to my hips and while I've always felt insecure about the fat he'd actually rest his hands on instead of my bones, Grayson simply gave me a reassuring squeeze, almost as if he could tell I'm once again struggling with my appearance and the latest weight gain I couldn't explain certainly didn't help my body dysmorphia.

"All my favorite days started and ended with you." His raspy voice brings chills, awakens my heart and I've always said he's better than caffeine in the morning.

"Cheesy." I remark, almost teasing him with a raised eyebrow and a swift, playful wink. "You're lucky I'm into cheesy romance."

Rolling his eyes at me with the slightest inkling of a smirk upon his plump lips, Grayson is quick to pull me closer, making me squeal and not in the attractive ways girls do it in movies, rather a pig like way.

Our noses collide before our lips firmly press together, finding our normal rhythm easily. Hands roaming his chest, fingers playing with his chest hair, I can feel my mind turn numb to our surroundings, the rest fading away. Grayson always had that effect, making me forget about the world and he didn't have to try, even one look was enough.

"Y/N." He whispers my name in between kisses spelled with our lips, my teeth sinking into his bottom lip, nibbling on the soft skin until an exasperated groan leaves him and I know his morning wood has begun to bug him and our kisses certainly didn't make it any easier on him.

"I can help with that." Coy, I inch away, breathing heavily. He's smilingly shaking his head and I can't help the disappointment on my face for I know what he's going to say.

"I want to, TRUST ME, but I have an early meeting." Apologetic as ever, Grayson steps back as if distance would somehow stop some sort of an imaginary spell I've cast on him. But this has become a rather common occurrence. It's why I wake up so early, hoping to steal a few peaceful moments in his arms before he leaves for work and more often than not, he's not back until late.

I'm not better with my intern year exhausting me all the time either, but I miss him ALL THE TIME and he seems to lack the same emotion. Sometimes I wonder if he misses me too or if his job, as legal as it’s supposed to be, is still his number one priority. He changed his tune on the matter, but his actions are faltering that belief in my heart.

I want to believe in him – in us, but love is a flower that needs to be watered and lately, there’s been a draught. And we are still intimate…a lot, but we lack the kind of quality time we spent together back when we had the world against us.

Sometimes, as selfish as it may be, I wonder if having my life threatened is the only way to have his undivided attention.

"Sure. I should get ready too." Biting my lip, I thread my fingers through my hair and sigh, avoiding his eyes to hide my dejection. It's not easy realizing we're officially becoming like any other couple where we don't seem to prioritize each other and if I'm being honest, it's killing me.

Grayson is the one to break the silence first. "Doll, have you seen my shirt?"

"Pretty sure I ripped it off you last night. Might want to grab that hoodie instead, because I'd rather not have you flaunting those flawless abs in public." I smirk, stopping once my eyes catch the horror in his.

"You. Want. Me. To. Wear. A. Hoodie? I can't be seen in a hoodie!" Grayson's words only make me chuckle, reminding me that behind his bad boy facade truly is a drama queen with a notable fashion sense. It makes me feel normal, and maybe being normal isn't always a bad thing. Maybe I’m just addicted to thrill of danger we were stuck in for so long I’ve forgotten that we’ve finally found serenity – a reality that should be more comfortable for me.

"Yes?" It was more of a question than a statement, paired with an amused look in my eyes and once my teeth sunk in the left corner of my bottom lip, Grayson's heart skipped a beat.

"The only reason I own a hoodie is because I bought it so you, my girlfriend, could steal it and we'd have some sense of normalcy as a couple. You know? No bloodshed, no tortured souls or kidnapping, just the old run of the mill girlfriend stealing her boyfriend's hoodie." Grayson justified, only making me giggle.

"And it worked, so now you can do what every boyfriend does and steal it back while giving me a glare for stealing it in the first place only to kiss me and tell me I look better in it than you anyway." I retort, enjoying his casually entertaining sauntering toward me, both his eyebrows raised.

"Well, it isn't even mine anymore, it's ours." He rolls his eyes with a cheeky smile, making my heart melt. This is how it’s supposed to be when two people love each other - easy as breathing. This, right now, just him and I and no obligations tearing us apart – this is how it should be.

Grabbing the hoodie, he shakes it before me, granting me a teasing glare. "I'm not gonna wear it but stealing isn't nice. Even if it does look better on you." Reenacting my little speech, Grayson pecks my lips before continuing his morning ritual and I draw a deep breath, shuddering at the thought of losing him.

I didn't come home that night, forced to pull a double shift at the hospital yet my phone didn't ring. Most nights, Grayson would call and check up on me even though I know it’s mostly to hear my voice – he explained it was soothing, a comfort he never takes for granted.

Sighing, I lock the screen and chase a few peas across the plastic plate, wondering what Grayson is doing, if he is hungry or tired, if he's wishing he could be next to me as much as I am. I’ve almost never been to his company, my hours at the hospital too long and Grayson always volunteers to come for lunch a few days a week anyway. He hadn’t been around for two weeks now.

Perhaps I've become codependent, maybe he coddles me way too much, but something is different and I'm hoping it's about our jobs and not about his feelings shifting, a familiar fear creeping in - he wasn't the type to stay with one girl for long, so what if my time is up?

Could I ever say goodbye to Grayson?

Shaking my head, I remind myself how important communication is and how I fucked up the last time I allowed out relationship go down a rabbit hole - maybe there's an explanation for this too?

Chewing on the inside of my lower lip, I roll my eyes and set aside my pride like he has done for me so many times before. Dialing his number is easy, but the wait for him to pick up is what makes my eyes water.

Grayson always picks up before the third ring, I'm on the eighth now.

And when he does pick up, I realize it's not him.

"Sorry hon, he's busy with me."

Eyes wide, breath caught in my throat, I try to speak but the line is dead before I muster enough bravery to move my lips.

Slapping a hand over my mouth trying to hold back a sob, I realize how unnecessary that action is as my throat closes with emotions shaking my entire being.

There has to be some explanation for this. I should have some faith in him after everything we've been through, right?

Fear, hate, anger, anxiety, love, sadness, an insurmountable amount of emotions and thoughts overwhelm me, dragging me through the past and every time I was told I simply wasn’t enough – pretty enough, smart enough, ambitious enough, creative enough, sexy enough – all of the times I was reminded over and over again that no one would love me, especially not someone as grand as Grayson who can certainly replace me in a moment’s time and I’d be left on the outside looking in, seeing his many girls on the front pages of every tabloid which would slowly kill me.

I want to wash my brain in cold water, cool the whole thing but I can't. I want a coffee but the caffeine will put me over the edge.

Regardless, I find myself dialing Ethan's number, seeking advice. If anyone would be honest with me, Ethan Grant surely would even if Grayson is his brother.

Does the truth imprison us, or does it set us free?

One thing I know for sure, the truth can hurt. Especially when the truth bears what can break a heart in half.

But I have to know.

3rd person POV

"Who was that?" Grayson frowns as he sees his assistant put down his phone, wondering why would she answer his personal cellphone when it isn't in her job description.

"Wrong number." Smirking slyly, she revels in the world of pain she was certain she caused to the woman on the other side of the line, enjoying it as much as she's enjoying the way Grayson pulled his sleeves up, accentuating his biceps.

Licking her lips, she watches as he sits in his chair, exhaustion in every line of his face and she can't imagine a better moment to make a move she had been planning for a few months now. Sliding over to him, she wasted no time in moving her ass onto his lap, her lips hungrily covering his.

"Bro!" Ethan busts inside, worked up after hearing from a clearly upset Y/N, willing to reassure her it's only a misunderstanding but when he sees a woman in his brother's lap and her mouth on his, one of the women he remembers from Grayson's past? That's when Ethan loses it.

Grayson is quick to push her off and on the floor mercilessly, growling as he wipes his lips with the back of his hand, but Ethan has no patience, slamming the door behind him with enough strength that it breaks the tinted glass, shattering it all the way to the woman's floored ass.

"WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?!" Ethan screamed, not even flinching when he feels a piece of glass graze his left forearm, the cut superficial. He’s red in the face, his eyes narrowed and if looks could kill, Grayson and the pathetic excuse for a woman would need CPR.

Gripping the woman by her shoulders, Grayson sets her back on her feet, the pressure of his hands on her enough to leave a mark. Shaking her like a doll, he gets in her face, spraying spit as he makes his intentions clear.

"I am a taken man and if you ever, EVER, try that again, I will have no mercy. Understand that?" Shaking her again until she managed to mumble a clear YES, Grayson pushed her toward the door.

"What the fuck are you looking at?!" Grayson screams in outrage, his eyes set aflame with ruthless self-loathing shimmering under the surface. His rage had always made men cower in fear, but never Ethan.

He wasn’t calm either, willing to spill blood for every tear Y/N shed and while he could easily start an altercation, Ethan realized violence begins violence and he can’t turn on his own blood. Not while they’re still so vulnerable to the criminals that want them both dead.

Apparently, no one is happy to let a gang disband without bloodshed and they’ve both been working overtime to make sure that doesn’t turn into a new gang war where their loved ones would be at risk. To be honest, Grayson has been overbearing and Ethan was wearing thin, but they have to find a solution before they end up burying their mother or sister, Y/N or even each other.

"Y/N called me in tears asking if you're cheating on her and I promised you'd never do that. Was I wrong brother?" Asking calmly, Ethan surprised himself with his poise. If he could, he'd at the very least land a few punches, damage the pretty boy look Grayson attracts attention with, but he realized Y/N might not want that.

Even if he transgressed, she’d want Grayson unharmed. She’s that kind of a soul – innocent, naïve and untouched by the madness surrounding her. And she hasn’t been quite the same since the ball but Ethan noticed her getting back to who she was when they first met her at that shady club.

She is his sister now and he can’t stand the thought of what pain this might cause her.

"No. She kissed me and I ended it as soon as I could. Y/N doesn't have to know." Grayson decides, his head a chaotic explosion of fear, anger and frustration - fear of losing the only woman he ever loved, anger over the way he was completely unaware of the situation and frustration because he's clearly not as scary as he used to be and damn it, Grayson absolutely loved instilling fear in people around him. It made him feel powerful and invincible, something he gave up for a quiet future with the love of his life...something he still missed.

"I won't lie to her." Ethan says through gritted teeth, shaking his head as his fingers thread through his hair. "She deserves better Grayson." Sighing, Ethan swallows thickly. "Do better."

And while Ethan said he wouldn't lie, he called Y/N back, faking amusement.

"No worries, sis, his assistant picked up the phone and they've been working like crazy today." Pausing, he pinches the bridge of his nose as if that would wash away the shame of lies he speaks, but what good would it do to hurt her with the truth?

He is a reasonable man and bringing this up would break her heart, besides, Grayson said it's a one-time unwanted occurrence and he wanted to believe him. He needed to.

"Are you alright, babe?" He feels a familiar pair of arms slide down his chest, holding onto the hands firmly.

"Yeah. Just my brother. Same old shit." Studying her, Ethan can't help but smile at the woman Y/N hired for him just a few months ago - at first to help him after he got shot and now to help him around the office...a woman he had taken a liking to.

"Anything I can do to help?" She smirks, pecking his nose from above, implying exactly what she wanted and Ethan wasn't about to protest.

"I can think of a few things."

1st person POV

The weight finally off my chest, I smile to myself. Of course Grayson isn't cheating on me. He loves me. He does no matter how hard I found that hard to believe before.

Perhaps it's time I trust him on that.

Barely able to stand, only a few hours of sleep in a thirty-something long shift keeping me alive, I stumble into the penthouse, kicking off my sneakers immediately.

I've been tired lately, feeling queasy and faint but it's probably the long hours and worsening eating habits. I should definitely drink more water too, but admitting this to Grayson would end up with him asking me to take some time off and take care of my health but that’s not an option. I need to finish this internship so I can get a first-rate fellowship. I may be stuck in a crazy environment, but I have every intention on finishing my journey.

Groaning, I manage to find my way to our bedroom and I wonder why was I ever so stubborn about living together. I didn't want to be seen as gold digger or an opportunist, I wanted to earn my own money but after we got cornered with paparazzi in my dorm more than once, the choice was obvious. Thankfully, I graduated just in time to start an internship not too far away from his luxury penthouse, reducing the commute.

Besides, waking up next to him is better than being alone.

The moment I enter, I see something is different - a dress laid out on our bed, rose petals around as well as a bouquet on my nightstand.

Reaching for the note, I sigh, aware Grayson planned a romantic date and while I'd rather sleep and have him rub my back, I remember relationships last only if both parties contribute to its growth and for a few months, neither of us did our part.

I can't be the one to say no.

'An exquisite dress for an exquisite woman. Put this on, doll and meet me up on the roof'

Smiling, I shake my head lightly, feeling my heart skip in my chest because even if I am about to faint, the gesture is incredibly sweet. The dress is even better - the one I had my eye on but refused to even try - red as blood, back open and lacy sleeves down to my elbows.

Managing to push my swollen feet into heels a size too big for me even now, I force my legs to take the few stairs toward the roof, a smile upon my weary lips. The wind pushes my unkempt hair back, revealing a faint scratch just below my ear that I earned in the ER.

"You look magnificent. As expected." Grayson's compliment makes me look away, smiling at the ground. It's impossible not to blush when a man of his caliber tells you how amazing he believes you look.

Pecking my lips, Grayson's finger lifts my chin, gracing me with one of his disarmingly charming looks.

"Don't go all shy on me now." His smirk is devilishly handsome and now I understood how the devil cheats humans out of their souls. It's not hard to fall for a smile like that.

"I missed you." Smiling back at him, I allow him to lead me to the table he set for us, devouring the food with my eyes already.

"And I love you for this food. I'm starving!"

3rd person POV

As soon as dinner ended and the conversation became rather nostalgic, Y/N couldn't help her smile as Grayson dedicated himself to her. It’s exactly what she’d been craving, worried that their romance might be wavering after the time they had to each other.

Holding her hand, his fingers brushing her knuckles, Grayson leans his forehead on the back of it, drawing a deep breath before letting out a heavy sigh.

"You're scaring me." Y/N giggles nervously, her right leg bouncing on her knee, making it a little uncomfortable since her heel keeps slipping off thus reminding her she really needs to buy a new pair - one that actually fits and on a day Grayson is too busy to come along. Shopping is a nightmare when the big bad CEO ex mafia boss that is also known as Hellhound joins because she refuses to let him pay for it all but he always insists.

"Do you know how it feels to love you?" Grayson asks, a rhetorical question from what she can tell and he's quick to continue, confessing all that's in his heart.

"It's a consuming, fiery passion." Smiling, he tilts his head ever so slightly to his left shoulder.

"It's a need, a primal drive to protect you, make you laugh and... well, I'm not going to sugarcoat this doll, but an essential desire to give you pleasure." Raising an eyebrow, Grayson licks his lower lip, leaving it shining under the candlelight, rendering Y/N speechless.

She's already trembling, confused with his current emotional gushing. It's not like she's unused to his love proclamations, it's that she can feel it in her bones that this one means something more than all the ones before and after the recent scare and fill of self-doubting, Y/N wasn’t keen on more surprises.

"Gray", she starts softly, worried it would discourage him or somehow hurt his feelings.

As soon as she tries to interrupt, Grayson interjects again, determined to finish his speech.

So, when he stands up and smirks at her widened eyes, Y/N only grew more confused and a little frightened when he suddenly dropped on one knee, opening a tiny box with a stunning, flower themed sapphire ring.

"You've given me hope, something to fight for, a reason to live. You've made me happier than I believed is possible and you've reminded me of what it means to be human. You make me want to be a better man." Swallowing thickly, he noticed she's barely blinking, perhaps in shock with his unexpected proposal, but he couldn't ignore how he feels and what he wants.

And he wants her.

He wanted Y/N to look at him with love in her eyes from the moment he first saw her in that tacky bar, he simply couldn't wait any longer. "You...you're everything - fun, thought provoking, caring, independent and merciful and exceptionally tactful when need be. You're spring and you're summer and you're a woman any man would be lucky to call his."

Lips parting, Y/N tries to speak, to articulate anything that she knows she feels in her heart for this incredible man, but she can't. All she can think of is the why. Why is he, a man who said dating wasn't even his thing, a man who struggled to open up for the longest time is now proposing?

She couldn't help but feel it's to appease her, but that only made her sad. She didn't want him to appease her nor did she want to succumb to society norms. She loves him, he loves her, so why complicate things?

Besides, how can she ignore the unwavering doubt in her mind? Ethan swore it was a false alarm, but her heart told her something is wrong – a sudden romantic gesture of this magnitude is suspicious, isn’t it?

"Will you marry me?" The hopeful look in his eye dwindles almost immediately when she reaches out and closes the box.

"No." Standing up, she throws the rags onto the table, her arms fold over her chest.

"We don't need to get married to love each other and be together, okay?" She could tell by the way his eyes narrowed and his lips pressed together he felt a little humiliated, but she couldn't allow him to entirely change his view on life and love to make her happy and she was certain he wouldn't ask otherwise.

In fact, she was certain he’s using this proposal to hide something she’s not supposed to know and an affair was currently on her mind. She couldn’t accuse him; she didn’t want to. But she needed to make sure the motive behind his proposal is love, not guilt.

"But I want to." Grayson stood, willing to argue on this but he could tell she's not ready and while he didn't understand why, he realized he will have to wait a little while longer.

Maybe she is right, maybe this is just his guilty self-consciousness pushing him into proposing and officially claiming her as his...most of all, allowing her to claim him as hers.

"I really do. But if you're not ready I will wait. As long as it takes." Noticing his flushed cheeks and desperation laced in his voice, Y/N caved…a little.

“Can I think about it?” And while it wasn’t even close to the definite YES he expected, Grayson had to settle for a maybe, regardless of the way it tore his heart to bits. Yet he felt this is much better than the reaction he’d get if he came clean.

Being with her is all he can ask for and he wasn’t ready to give up on her, on them. And maybe he should have told her the truth about everything, she’d probably be understanding, but he couldn’t be sure. He had put her through so much shit that Grayson feared she had too much and would use the latest troubles as an excuse to finally do what he fears the most – walk away from him.

They laid in each other's arms, holding on with a sense of uncertainty - Y/N felt guilty for making him believe she needed him to change, about the sordid lack of faith she has in him and Grayson felt guilty about the kiss he kept from her.

When he opened his eyes the next morning, Y/N was already gone, just a note left about being paged early even though she was supposed to have a day off. He planned to use that day to spend some time together and rebuild their relationship he just realized isn't as unbreakable as he thought before.

1st person POV

Days passed and Grayson never mentioned the proposal again. In a way I was grateful because dealing with a stomach flu and that night wasn't easy. Though he stayed quiet, I knew he was going back to old habits - using sex to change my mind.

It wasn’t difficult to understand Grayson is angry with me and my decision or lack there of. His usually sweet caress had become hard, gripping. Fists in clothes, shoving me against a wall hungrily, as if he’s trying to make me see that without me he’d be nothing more than this – a rampant animal out for blood even when he loves the one he hurts.

Unfortunately for him, I’m not a dainty little snowflake. He made sure of that. I can do both soft and angry and even if he tries, he’s never that violent with me even when I ask.

And as his fingers dig into my hips, I find myself thrown on the bed, enjoying the look in his eye as he takes me in – lips plump, almost bruised, cheeks crimson and desire behind my lustful gaze – something I practiced in front of a mirror but never knew if it works until he laid on top of me, keeping his body weight off just barely – he wanted me to feel dominated, trapped even, but his kisses, as always, melt away from that fiery, blinding passionate rage.

They turn into brushes of lips between shaking breaths, his hips meeting mine in a slow rhythm, allowing every inch of him to fill me to the brim and he wanted me to feel that. His lips are slow until they’re out of energy and parted, until we are left just lying there, holding each other, fingers carding through hair.

Blowing a few of my hairs off my neck, Grayson settled in the crook with a plagued look in his chestnut colored eyes. I could sense something is tormenting him, a secret he keeps and I’m not exactly talkative either. I’ve never asked him about the girl that picked up the phone…I’ve rarely been to his office at all.

“How are things at work?” Sliding my hand over his forearm, I can sense the sharp intake of breath through his nose and while it would be far too easy to just ignore it, the fact I could surely pinpoint his lack of verbal communication created an unsettling feeling in my stomach.

Pecking my shoulder, Grayson spoke – his voice oddly cool as if nothing happened moments ago and I am once again reminded Grayson isn’t just any guy I met off the street – he used to deal with people much scarier than his curious girlfriend.

“A lot of work but it’s been wonderful. The transition is going smooth and while there are a few minor issues to deal with, the company is officially legitimized and honest.” Lying is easy for him and that scares me. Maybe he’s not lying to my face, rather omitting the truth but isn’t that just as bad?

Waves of nausea force me to sit up, feeling my mouth salivating as bile rises at the back of my throat and I’m running before I even know what is happening, running to keep myself from ruining the ridiculously expensive rug Grayson splurged on a few months ago.

Sinking to my knees, retching until only clear liquid was coming up. My stomach kept on contracting violently and forcing everything up and out but the hand on my back and forehead keeping me from falling face first into the toilet kept me earthed. I could only imagine how my face looks, white and dripping bile, sweat, and tears.

“Can you leave? I don’t want you to see me like this.” My voice is hoarse and the pungent stench invaded my nostrils and I heave even though there is nothing left to throw up. My throat feels sore from the stomach acid that was layering it and my mouth tastes of vomit.

As if he could read my mind, Grayson quickly flushed the toilet and helped me lean back against the wall, rushing to fill a glass of water to help me rinse this horrid feeling out of my mouth.

I can’t remember the last time I got sick like this and I certainly can’t remember someone being there to help me and while I wanted him to leave initially, I was so grateful he decided to stay.

“You scared the crap out of me.” Sheepishly admitting to it, Grayson presses his lips together, looking ahead than at me. “You’re seeing a doctor first thing in the morning.” He adds and I scoff, giving him a quick glance.

“I am a doctor. Sort of.” Chuckling, I lean my head on his shoulder, hoping I’m not smelling like a combination of sweat and vomit, but hey, we both need a bath after what we’ve done an hour ago. Besides, making him worry won’t do him much good. There are more pressing matters he needs to dedicate himself to.

“Still. Doll, I never want to risk your health or wellbeing. Okay?”

“I’m aware which is why I know I’m fine and this was just a fluke.” I lied. This is more than just a fluke and the nausea has been going on for a month now, I just never actually had to throw up. And I understand why. My period’s late, long enough to make me fairly certain of what I plan on confirming in the morning – I’m pregnant.

I never understood how women miss their pregnancy for so long, how they don’t notice not having their periods or any other pregnancy symptoms but after everything – thinking we might die, Ethan being shot, starting this internship and then the worry about how solid our relationship is, I just assumed it was late due to stress.

I don’t think that’s the case anymore and I know I have to be more responsible now when I suspect it.

Hands folded in my lap, I interlock my fingers for comfort. Imagining this moment in the past included Grayson, excited and asking me if I'm okay about a hundred times, but never could I imagine being alone, asking a colleague for discretion after having my blood taken.

The thought of being pregnant is daunting, especially at an uncertain time for Grayson and I - another thing I never imagined happening. If anything, I could swear we finally got our happy ending. We were supposed to be stupidly in love while working toward our goals, being a power couple. Instead, we got separated by our schedules, seeds of doubt planted in this time where we were supposed to be stronger than ever.

Is the thought of having a gun held to my head just to have Grayson back too crazy? Probably.

"Hey." Looking up to see the nurse holding a paper in her hand, one I'm sure has answers to my questions and if her smile is anything to go by, the news are supposed to be happy. "Congratulations Y/N. If you need anything, just ask."

For a moment my heart stops, feeling it sink at the thought of telling Grayson and have him be anything but happy. But I am. I am elated.

Placing a hand over my stomach, a smile creeps up on me, spreading until my entire face lights up and I can't help the cheerful giggle escaping me.

"I'm gonna be a mom."

3rd person POV

Standing in front of his windows, looking down at New York with a pensive smile, Grayson thought about how he needs to step up. His first attempt at a proposal failed, miserably, but he wasn't planning on giving up.

She means too much to him to ever give up on her.

The way she said no told him there is more to the story. It was painfully obvious she loves him with all her heart but Grayson wondered what would make a woman in love refuse a proposal.

"Bro, we have a huge problem." Ethan's out of breath, stepping beside his brother with mouth open, still heaving. "And when I say huge problem, I mean a massive, colossal fucking problem."

Looking at his brother, Grayson's jaw clenches with resolve because the blood on Ethan's face is speaking volumes of their issue.

No matter how often he tried to tie up loose ends, it turns out it's nearly impossible to entirely pull out of a decades long criminal history.

"Who the fuck is it?" Fists tights at each side, Grayson's face hardens and his lips press together as Ethan sighs.

"We don't know yet. It's a paid hit, that's sure." Wiping the blood of his bottom lip, Ethan smirks. "But I intend to find out who hired him and I plan to do it the hard way." Raising his eyebrow mischievously, revealing a side of him that's usually dormant but it's awake now and Grayson already knows this would be a fine line to walk on. "You in or what?" Ethan's snarkiness makes Grayson roll his eyes as well as his sleeves.

"I actually liked this shirt." But then again, Grayson is worse than Ethan could ever be and he was about to make that man regret the day he was born. Grayson ‘CEO’ Dolan was gone and Hellhound took over.

"Oh well, I'll buy another one." A cold smile upon his lips, he reverts back to the man he was and he couldn't find it in himself to regret it.

1st person POV

Chewing on the inside left corner of my lower lip, I knew this anxiety wouldn't be good for the baby. Isn't it odd how quickly a mother starts to love her child? Even before it's a formed human being the love is so great you can't put yourself first.

I'm already daydreaming of the day I get to meet my baby, to hold it and see it looking back at me with Grayson's eyes. I'm imagining all the things we'll do together and all the ways this baby could change the world.

Drawing a deep breath, I close my eyes and smile, resting my head on my propped up hand and make a choice - I have to tell Grayson and no matter how he reacts, I will not be hurt by it.

If he wants nothing to do with us, I will survive.

Dialing his number, I tap my nails against the metal table in the canteen. Waiting for him to pick up seemed as fruitful as waiting for rain in the Sahara Desert.

Rubbing my forehead, I sigh and lose a little bit of my resolve before realizing I'll have to call his office instead.

"Dolan enterprises, who am I speaking to?" The gentle, feminine voice on the other side of the line makes me tense up, recognizing it immediately. Isn't this the same voice that picked up that night I had nearly lost my mind and frantically called Ethan, weeping as if someone had died? It's the same voice that made me doubt Grayson and the doubt never quite left me despite Ethan's reassurance.

"Y/N Y/L/N. Mister Dolan is expecting my call." I cringe at the mister part, especially since I use it way too often in a sexual manner in private.

"Oh. Well, I have no record of that. Beside, mister Grayson is a very busy man. He has no time for frolicking whores." And the next thing I hear is her hanging up on me, the line going silent.

Looking at the phone in shock, I hold onto it with a death grip. The nerve this bitch has is definitely irking me. I'm most certain she knows who I am and this disrespectful behavior is going to get her a slap - a bitch slap for a bitch.

Gritting my teeth, I let out pent up air through my flared nostrils. Usually, this sort of thing wouldn't leave a dent - perhaps I thought we were stronger than that before but now? Now when I can tell he's keeping secrets and lying to me? It's impossible not to question everything, and that doubt is exactly what breeds jealousy, possessiveness and utter hatred for the woman picking up MY MAN's phone.

3rd person POV

The last thing Y/N expected is to come home before Grayson, a little after three past midnight, courtesy of a chain car crash. What she expected less is to have him come up to their penthouse few minutes after with his normally white shirt drenched in blood.

Swallowing thickly, Y/N tried her best not to lose her mind over the sight, walking toward Grayson who looks like a deer caught in headlights. He hoped she'd be asleep by now, giving him a solid chance to hide his extracurricular activities he never wanted her to find out about.

Yet, he can't seem to find it in himself to lie to her. He's not ashamed of who he is or who he was. He's not ashamed of those he killed to protect his loved ones, her included.

She knew who he is when they fell in love. She loved him when he was drenched in blood as much as when he was picture perfect, her prince charming...from a much darker fairytale.

"Doll, I..." Before he could make an excuse or apologize, Y/N interjects, her hands cupping his scruffy, bloodied cheeks, her eyes boring into his bloodshot ones.

"Are you okay?" That's all she cared about. She didn't give a shit whose blood is on him, as long as it isn't his or any other Dolan's.

She's not supposed to condone his behavior, she's not supposed to blindly accept the fact that he made her a promise and he just broke it, yet she wanted him safe more than she wanted to safeguard her beliefs. More than she could focus on the future well being of the heartbeat under hers.

"Yeah." Grayson nods faintly, managing a weak smile for her sake but also in admiration. If it were any other woman, he'd be arguing right now, but it's not. It's Y/N, his doll, his soulmate. She simply takes his hand, as gory as it is and leads him toward the bathroom.

Sitting him down on the toilet, she works on unbuttoning his shirt, peeling it off his perfectly chiseled body. His eyes are fixed on her face and tired eyes, realizing she may not be screaming at him but this - him and his choices are wearing her thin. She's fading and he's doing nothing to help her and that makes his chin tremble, making her glance at his lips.

It would be easy to ignore it, to ignore him, but she couldn't ignore the desire to kiss his plump lips, the very lips that signify both heaven and hell to her.

Grayson stands, his fingers hooking the bottom of her shirt, pulling it off with ease, especially since her hair is up in a fish braid as it always is when she's at work.

Leaning in, his forehead rests upon hers, noses brushing as he waits, giving her a chance to bail, to choose if kissing him now would compromise her sanity. And it would. She knows that her sanity is compromised either way, which is exactly why she kisses him, giving him a hard and needful, so incredibly emotional kiss that it used up every last bit of oxygen in Grayson's lungs and he smiles against her lips because she is the only woman that has ever been capable of making him lose his breath. No one ever came even remotely close until she came into his life and claimed him hers for the rest of his life.

"Take your pants off." She commands, slipping her own off along with her panties in one try, walking into the shower without looking back.

She knew he would obey.

Starting the water, she smiles when she feels his hands on her hips, swiftly turning her back to face him in all his glory.

Her hands gripping his forearms, Y/N uses the chance to pull him under the running water, rubbing the blood off him carefully without making eye contact.

The blood pooled around their feet, making Y/N wonder if this is the rest of her life - consuming passion and cleaning the blood off him, no questions asked because she might not like the answers.

She couldn't deny the lure of darkness, of loving a man who is capable of horrific acts that seems to care for her more than anyone else in the world.

Grayson could see the wheels in her head turning, overthinking as always and once again, it is his fault. So, he does what he always does when he wants her to stop thinking - he slams his lips against hers, his left hand at the back of her neck and right one delicately sliding down her back to grip her ass.

“You’re so perfect.” He whispers against her lips, pushing her back against the cold tiles behind them.

“Really?”

A growl escapes him as if her words anger him. His hands leave her ass and move to her stomach. His lips finding hers in a rough kiss. One of his hands move lower, fingers playfully flicking over her clit before he pushes a finger inside her.

“Really.”

She moans softly at the feeling of his oddly cold fingers in her warm folds. Grayson pushes another finger in and starts moving them in and out at a slow rate.

“Faster”, Y/N moans impatiently, bucking her hips against his hand. Moving his hand faster coaxes soft moans that spill from her lips.

“Tell me what you need”, Grayson smirks, enjoying how easily he can make her his, how even when she should be screaming at him, she’s screaming for him.

‘‘You’’, she responds, her breathing fast, shallow and unpredictably paired with faint gasps that make him shiver with his own need growing.

‘‘Be specific, doll’’, teasing, Grayson slows his fingers down.

‘‘Your dick in my pussy’’, she groans with irritation, gripping his hips as if it would make him stumble into her. Yet, Grayson grins at her and his kisses grow sporadic as his hands grip his length, carefully holstering her up.

Pushing inside, he can’t help but snicker at how wet she is and how easily he fit this time around. He’s loving the ego boost, knowing she craves him with all her being and she’s taking him so well.

However, neither of them can focus too much on anything but the arising orgasms and while Grayson tries to keep a steady rhythm, celebrating every moan and pant passing her glorious lips, he can sense her clenching around him before he’s quite there.

Holding her in place until the aftershock waves pass her body, Grayson litters her neck with tender kisses.

“Let me go.” She orders, her voice a little shaky and while Grayson wanted to hold her a while longer, not even in a sexual manner, he obeys. Assuming she’s leaving, Grayson shuts the water off only to raise his eyebrows when she goes to her knees.

“Didn’t really think I’d leave you high and dry, did you?” Smirking, her hand grabs a hold of his base and slowly sucks the tip into her mouth.

Looking up at the amused man through her eyelashes, she takes more of his hardened length in her mouth. She never really saw the point of blowjobs, especially watching it on porn where it looked like every girl acted as if they’re eating the most delicious treat and would gladly choke on a guy’s dick, but with Grayson, she came to realize it’s not about the act or about it tasting good – it’s about how badly you want the other person to be puddy in your hands, how even a man as powerful as Grayson will resort to begging when she’s edging him to the brink of insanity.

It’s about power, about pleasure and most of all, it’s about love.

“Y/N”, he moans, grabbing her hair before pulling on it. She glances up at him coyly and he grunts, nearly coming because of the mere sight of her.

‘‘Doll’’, Grayson moans, bucking his hips into her mouth.

“I am going to cum”, he warns in an attempt to pull out, letting go of her hair but she holds his hips firmly, allowing him to come into her mouth, swallowing every last drop.

Panting, he stares down at her as she wipes her plump lips, unable to let the moment pass him by. She’s everything he ever wanted. "Marry me." His words make her choke on her own spit, her eyes widening.

"You're asking me while I'm literally on my knees in front of you? Was the orgasm that mind-blowing? Is it because I swallowed?" She continued berating him with a coy smile, taking his hand on her way up, allowing her hands to travel his body with care, teasing him with her fingertips fanning across his skin.

"Ah, maybe?" He chuckles, groaning as her lips connect with his collarbone only to grunt when her teeth come to play and she nibbles on his skin.

Realizing he won't get anywhere with her if she keeps on working him up, Grayson pushed her lightly, enough for her to pout but understand he means business.

"Seriously though. I asked you once and you told me you'd think about it, but can you honestly imagine a day where we aren't together?" And he made perfect sense, she knew that. But ever since she nearly died...more than once, Y/N wasn't sure about anything in her life except Grayson and she loves him, so much so she can't breathe when he's gone for too long but marriage? It still didn't seem like something he wanted nor needed.

If she is being completely honest, she's still scared he's only asking to please her, to make her happy, not because he wants to be a husband, or that he might resent that down the line.

And most of all, she’s terrified of him doing this to cover up he cheated on her. Something she’s been agonizing over that for a while, trying to have some trust in him. He’s earned that much.

"No, I can't imagine a life without you. But that doesn't mean we have to get married, Gray."

Narrowing his eyes suspiciously at her, Grayson scoffs. "You really don't want to marry me, do you doll?"

"I do. But the thing is, are you asking because you can't imagine not marrying me or because you think I won't be with you if you don't? Because that piece of paper means nothing to me if it's pressuring you to do something you aren't comfortable with. I love you too much to do that to you." Holding back some of her concerns, she finally leaves the shower with a little help from the naked specimen before her.

"I'm doing this because I want to marry you, doll. I want to be your husband, to be yours in every possible way."

"Sure you're ready to part with that bachelor title?" She cocked an eyebrow, smirking at him as her hands form a protective circle around him, pulling them closer together.

"I've been ready since I met you."

Maybe telling him she’s pregnant won’t be such a disaster after all.

Watching him run into their bedroom, Y/N follows with a new wave of certainty. He loves her. She loves him. Any of the doubts her mind created are likely due to her insecurities and she was done letting them drive her insane.

For the first time in forever, her mind was clear and she was happy to give her hand to Grayson, watching him slip on the ring officially with no regrets.

“Can we talk though?” Y/N draws a shaky breath, hoping to finally shed some light on the second fear.

“Always.” His comforting reassurance made her smile, but her heart quivers in fear.

“Did you cheat on me with your assistant?” Holding his gaze, she notices a slight shift in his pupil, lips parting.

“No. Kerry works for me. That’s all. Why…Why would you think that?” It’s not the best solution – lie right as he put a ring on her finger, even worse to make her feel guilty for asking, but Grayson panicked and he needed the suspicion gone. All this time, he assumed he was in the clear after Ethan said he lied about it after all, but he never once realized it was eating away at her.

“Maybe because she keeps messing up our lunch dates? Or how when I call I’m suddenly called a frolicking whore or how when she picked up your phone she said you’re busy with her and it didn’t sound like it was work kind of busy and I might be overreacting but I swear that woman makes my blood boil and I want to break her like a twig. You trained me! I could do it!” Rambling, Y/N started to laugh at her own jealousy, especially when she realized she’s arguing while they’re both naked. In fact, they just got engaged naked and if anything, Y/N surely couldn’t ever think they’re normal or boring.

Pulling her closer, Grayson kisses her temple. “I promise Kerry isn’t an issue. I’m devoted to you. So, don’t worry. I’ll deal with her myself.”

But happiness can never last forever. In a week’s time, exactly on the day the pair planned to escape their duties for lunch and longer, Y/N was ready to share the news with Grayson. She was prepared to tell him he’d become a father in about six months or so and she was even more excited to see the confused look on his face when she takes him to the doctor’s with her, allowing him to see the baby and connect the dots himself.

But, that didn’t happen. As always, when one makes plans, destiny sure loves to fuck with them.

"Kerry, can you please let Y/N know I'll be a few minutes late for our lunch date? Just let her into the office." Grayson smiles at his assistant, his eyes bright as they always are when Y/N is on his mind and while he would kill, literally, to be there on time, she's the very reason why he can't do that anymore. He can't be that person and love her at the same time. She deserves better than that. She deserves the man he's trying to be. The man only she brings to the surface - someone he's proud to be.

"Of course." Kerry returns his smile, a little wider, her eyes unblinking as they always are when he's around - filled with emotions Grayson never gave any fuel to. She watched him leave, her grin reduced to a wicked smirk as he disappears behind the corner, just in time for Y/N to arrive.

"Oh, I'm sorry. You don't have an appointment with the boss." Fake pleasantries and smiles never fooled Y/N, though she struggled to understand what exactly made Grayson so certain Kerry isn't an issue.

Ever since she met the snake, well, talked to the snake, Y/N was painfully aware of her attempts to drive a wedge between her and Grayson and the worst part? He's either too daft to see the truth or he's willing to drag her through hell for another woman.

"I don't need an appointment to see my boyfriend…Well, fiancé." Y/N remarks, folding her arms across her chest, glaring at the blonde before her with confidence she's having difficulty maintaining.

Kerry is breathtakingly gorgeous, incredibly well built and perhaps part of the issue stems from the fact that Y/N still can't understand why a man like Grayson would ever settle for her. Because she truly didn't know if someone like Kerry would eventually make him see how plain she truly is.

"Either way, he's not in his office. Something about a lunch date with his new client. Feel free to wait around." Chuckling, Kerry smirked, her words dripping with venom.

"Be more pathetic than you already are. Because in the end, he will come back to me." Clicking her nails against the solid wooden desk before her, Kerry bore a sly smirk, almost victorious once she realized Y/N is clueless and she finally has something to hurt her with.

"He didn't tell you. Did he? How he used to fuck me. Or how he kissed me recently." Raising her eyebrows, expecting tears and maybe even a full breakdown, Kerry wished she could take a picture for gloating.

Y/N stared at her for ten seconds, maybe more, holding her breath in order to hold back her anger, disappointment, and most of all tears. She couldn't afford to show weakness, not even in front of the secretary. Grayson might not be the scariest person in New York anymore but she couldn't allow any trace of emotion show. Perhaps it's all she went through with Mikhail or the Serpents, but she had hardened, her face remaining impassive even in the face of certain death so what is just another woman who plays with her claws.

"That's the key difference." Y/N smiles coldly, stepping closer to the desk with an air of confidence around her - fake it till you make it, she thought.

"He fucked you but he makes love to me." Planting both her palms flat against the desk, leaning closer to the woman who is hell bent on making her relationship crumble and she speaks through gritted teeth: "Get in line bitch, before I make you."

"Ahh, doll! Hope I didn't keep you waiting." Grayson comes up from behind her, placing a hand on the small of her back and she straightens up, faking a smile for Kerry before turning back on her heel, her lips finding Grayson's instinctively.

She let her frustrations free, consuming his lips shamelessly, rather unlike her in public and Grayson knew.

"Tell me you have some time for me?" She whispers against his lips, aware of Kerry's glare at the back of her head. In fact, she hoped the bitch is paying attention because if she has to stake her claim again, she'll need nose surgery. She couldn’t focus on her claims of recent events, but to learn he bedded her destroyed her.

“Actually, you have a meeting in ten.” Kerry interjects but Grayson shakes his head.

"Always have time for my favorite girl. Already took the rest of the day off." And that was an official win in her books, pecking his lips again with genuine enthusiasm.

“Reschedule Kerry. And make sure Ethan calls me back once he’s done…with his current client.” His voice is deep and authoritative, starkly different than when he talks to her. Y/N couldn't help but wonder if he purposefully speaks in a softer tone when he is with her.

Walking off with their arms linked, Grayson decided to ask about the palpable anger once they’re out of the building. So, the moment they found themselves in the limousine Grayson liked to use lately, the gloves were off.

"Want to tell me what that was about? And don't tell me nothing because I could feel you wanted to slap a bitch." Chuckling under this breath, he noticed her lips press together, her eyebrows furrowing and her gentle, warm gaze turned icy, dangerous.

"Your secretary told me you cancelled lunch and then she proceeded to tell me we wouldn't last because she's apparently so fuckable and you know that from experience." Pursing her lips, she could tell he wasn't happy with Kerry and her revelation.

"She's lying. Right?" He swallowed thickly, blinking a little too fast for an innocent man.

Avoiding her gaze, Grayson cursed at the day he took pity and allowed Kerry to be his secretary after closing his gang related business. There was no way around it, his past coming back to haunt him. No matter how hard he tries to run, to hide, it always finds away to ruin his present.

"There was a time we were friends with benefits." Admitting the truth, Grayson could see her horrified expression, the ache it caused.

"Oh my God, WHO HAVEN'T YOU FUCKED?" Grayson once admitted to an array of one night stands, she just never realized she'd be surrounded with them on daily basis.

"I'm seriously asking! How many of them do I see every day and smile kindly at while they discuss how I'll be just another girl on your list?"

"You're not another girl on my list." Grayson interjects, unaware he'd only make it worse.

"Why does she even work for you? She's been nothing but trouble since the day you hired her! She lied about our lunch date, so what else had she fucked up for us?" Shaking her head, Y/N pulls her hair back, feeling suffocated under the weight and warmth it exudes, making her sweat profusely.

"I owe her. Okay? Because when I was recklessly aiming to kill anyone who'd harm you, her brother got murdered as retaliation. Can you not understand that?" Frowning with the memory of his friend's lifeless body, Grayson let out a heavy sigh, one that reminded him of the weight he only ever feels lighten around Y/N. She was usually his cure, a medicine for all that ails him but for the first time since she came into his life, she added onto that weight.

"And that justifies leaving her in a position where she will do anything to break us up? Because if that's so, at least I know your priorities now." Turning away from him, unable to escape while driving in the back of a limousine on the highway, Y/N wished she could jump out and risk it, anything to avoid looking at him or even breathing the same air, but she couldn't. Not with a new life inside her. Not when her worst fears came true – she wasn’t his fiancée because he loves her, but because it’s convenient for him to ease his guilt.

1st person POV

“I’m pregnant.” I admit, deciding to air out all the secrets I’ve been carrying around, all the pain I’ve held inside. If he wants to end it, this is when it happens because even when I tell him news he should react to, all I get is a faint nod.

“I know. Saw the labs in your purse.” And that’s when everything comes barreling down.

Is this why he proposed? Is this why he stays?

“I wanted you to tell me on your own. I found out this morning which is why I took the rest of the day off. Thought we could go up to the garden.” But I couldn’t listen to him anymore nor his lies. The ache in my chest had torn my heart to pieces and I was so tired of holding it together, allowing a single tear to slip past my defenses.

"Grayson, I know." I frown as my voice cracks and he furrows his eyebrows. His hands are close, forming fists. His eyes focus on me, unblinking and empty as if all emotions drained from them when I spoke up, sharing what's eating at me.

"Know what?" His calm, almost political response didn't anger me like I expected, I didn't throw a fit. Instead, I simply shake my head and press my lips together, holding my breath in hope of holding back tears.

"When did you stop loving me?" Speaking is hard, especially with a growing lump at the back of my throat that's making it harder to even breathe.

My words anguish him, terrify and confuse him and I wish I could believe the sudden show of emotion but it's impossibly sad how much I wish I didn't doubt him. I wish I could trust everything he says or does, perhaps I do, but I can't allow myself to immerse in his charming, murky brown eyes again. Not when the uncertainty is gripping every inch of my aching heart.

"I didn't. I love you so, so much! Doll, I love you more than life." He speaks with such conviction, his hands quickly taking mine for reassurance. And it’s romantic and all I needed to hear, yet I can't help but wonder if that's only because I'm pregnant with his child...his heir.

Is that something I'd want for my baby? To live with a target on its back, being groomed to take over an empire their father can't seem to dismantle?

I clear my throat, fixing his fearful gaze with my softer one. "Never love anything more than life." Unless it's our baby. Love our baby more than your empire if you can't love me as much, I think but don’t say.

Wanting to do the right thing is far from doing it.

"Why did you kiss her?" I finally clarify my initial statement, because now I know and no matter what the goal was...I know and there's no going back.

"I didn't want to.” Grayson tries to clarify before I can get another word in, almost pissed I’d ever doubt him. But how can I not. How can I just ignore the signs?

“She kissed me. I pushed her off. I did everything right!" Raising his voice makes me flinch and I hate that. I hate how easily I submit when someone raises their voice and he knows that. He’s aware that’s why we talk and not yell at each other, but emotions are running high and I’m praying he’s not doing this on purpose.

"That's not the point, Grayson! The point is…why did she feel so comfortable to get so intimate? Why would she think you'd kiss her back?!" Folding my arms across my lower stomach, I try to ignore the slight ache spreading inside.

It’s impossible not to worry about the baby, if this argument is something that will cause an unfortunate event and I draw a deep breath, looking at Grayson who is shaking his head as if I’ve asked the most ridiculous question in the world, but I’ve gotten to him. His pause is simply because he is out of excuses.

"Because she's a psychopath? How should I know?! Doll, I love you."

"Don't fucking call me that!" I snap, wiping my chin to clear the spit that escaped me when the anger burst and if I could, I’d have hurt him in that moment too. I’d show him my wounds, but I stop, trying to compose myself.

Not only is my fiancé lying to me, but he’s had his brother help him cover up his deeds as well.

"Don't push me away. Don't use your insecurities as excuses to push me away and break us apart. We're supposed to be happy! Engaged and expecting!"

The audacity!

"Well, I'm not the one who lied. I’m not the one throwing your flaws in your face. Had you told me the truth or at least tried to nip it in the bud, I'd be fine with it. But you felt the need to lie, to force Ethan of all people to support your lies and I... there must have been a reason for that. You're keeping things from me and I thought it was my fault and this is the second time you've made me feel guilty for the issues that stem from your inability to communicate like a normal human being and I'm so fucking tired of it. I'm fucking tired of picking up the pieces every time shit goes down because you believe you're blameless." Looking away, I bite my lip and for a moment I wonder if I went too far. But I did mean it. All our issues come from his secrecy and lack of communication and it’s impossible not to wonder if it comes from a lack of trust too.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you. It was never my intention to make you feel like that." Reaching for my hand, he sighs when I move it away, disgusted with him at this point.

"Does that actually matter when the result is pain? Fuck, Grayson, I thought you said it would be different now. I thought I'd be your priority for once, but it remains a verba, not res thing."

I can hardly stomach his presence, let alone touch and the pain in my stomach isn’t letting up.

“Gah!” I scream out, the sudden sharp pain making my defenses fall, revealing the vulnerability beneath as I grasp his hand, desperate to have him close.

No matter how much pain he causes, I still look to him for a cure. How fucked up is that?

"Are you okay?" His free hand braces me, holding me as if I’m made of porcelain, not steel.

"I feel like I'll be sick." I mutter, cold sweat running at the back of my neck and forehead, my hands shaking as they grip his as if he would save me. As if he would make it all better.

Shortage of breath is the first sign my pain has caused a panic inside, the thought of harm coming to the baby draining every bit of sanity I’ve got left. I'm breathing but the air just won't go in, like my lungs are caged birds. Next comes the rising panic I wanted to avoid, the dizzy feeling and the need to get low to the ground.

“Breathe.” Grayson whispers and I soon feel the car stop, the door opening and our driver giving me a look of pity – the kind I hated most of all.

"I'll help you out." Grayson all but carried me out, allowing my feet to touch the ground simply to save my pride, probably afraid I’d make him let me go if he tried anything more. Perhaps I would if the pain and panic didn’t blind me entirely, leaving me gasping, my mind spiraling as I look down in fear of what I might find. Noticing no blood, I manage a faint smile and tilt my head up to meet his dazzling, warm eyes.

Damn those eyes I love so much.

Swallowing my pride, I decide to thank him as the pain gradually subsides. Holding me close, keeping my heart beating, Grayson had managed to calm me down, my breathing synchronized with his and I realize my blood pressure must have skyrocketed during the argument and it must have caused pain.

"Tha –“, but I don’t get to say it. Not when a deafening sound of gunshots leaves me breathless. It takes me a moment to fully understand what is happening, the screams around me fading to nothingness as Grayson spins us around, his arms firmly around me as if they’re my armor.

Gasping for air, I feel the arms around me loosen, a loud thud following and the warmth disappears only for horror to take its place.

“GRAYSON!"

3rd person POV

Y/N’s scream rippled through the street, the raw intensity of her fear cracking the heart of any human close enough to hear. She falls to her knees, helpless as her fingers grip his white shirt lacking evidence any harm came to him.

Her eyes lay upon his, desperately searching for signs of life and while the driver dials 911, Y/N needed someone else. She needed Ethan but she couldn’t move, her entire body shaking violently.

“Doll”, Grayson breathes out and she no longer remembers the anger in which she told him to forget that nickname. It’s a distant memory as she sobs, her vision blurred with tears. His hand clutches her right one, forcing a smile to ease her mind but even he knows that’s impossible at this point.

“It’s – It’s”, a cough interrupts his need to comfort her, yet she knew exactly what he wants to tell her. She knows exactly what he means and it only breaks her further, especially when she notices the blood pooling under her knees – his blood – the blood he needs to survive. And she’s practically a doctor, she’s supposed to help him, but she can’t – there’s nothing she can do. She can’t even move him.

“It’s not fine! None of this is fine!” Inadvertently screaming, she wipes her left cheek with the back of her hand, pissed and so, so in love with him for trying to calm her down and give her some hope and while she can hear the sirens in the distance, he is fading right before her eyes and the terror of a thought invaded her mind – he will die.

“I don’t want to live without you. Grayson, we have so much more to do and I…I’m so sorry I didn’t accept your proposal the first time you asked!” Her voice cracks, forcing her to stop and swallow for a moment, long enough to catch a crooked smile on his quivering lips.

“I’m so angry at you Grayson Dolan! You don’t get to die if it’s not by my hand! Do you understand that?!” Squeezing her hand, Grayson’s lips part with intent to tell her he understands.

He wanted to tell her he loves her and always will and that she will never be alone even if he doesn’t survive. For the first time ever, Grayson looked up at Y/N with fear because he knew whoever did this to him was aiming for his girl and the baby inside her. Grayson Dolan, the Hellhound, the man who fears nothing found himself frozen in fear as his Y/N stood above him, almost hysterical. And he couldn’t do a damn thing. He couldn’t do more than he already did – save her.

He couldn’t hold her and make her tears dry and he couldn’t manage his last I love you nor a meek smile.

What he could do is imagine if she would be happier if he just let her go when he had the chance?

If he never came back into her life once she walked out that door?

She made him happier he had ever been, but did he do the same for her or is the danger he put her in by loving her worth it? She could have done all the things she wanted to without him holding her back and yet she stayed. She stayed and loved him so well he actually saw a future past the life he was born into.

She’d be happy without him, he knew it. Maybe happier than she ever was with him, but he was too selfish to allow it, too possessive to imagine another man’s hands upon her.

She isn’t happy now, he’s certain of it. The tears in her eyes tell him that and all he wishes is to take back what he said in the limo, to remind her how they were and not their last day of screaming…of blur.

Eyelids growing heavy, Grayson’s smile fades, praying she find happiness she deserves once more.

All that he kept thinking throughout their whole flight is it could take his whole damn life to make it right because he knew he had wronged her. They had gotten through so much worse than this before and he wondered what's so different this time that she just can't ignore? He could see her saying it is much more than just his last mistake and had the pain nor this shooting happened she’d have asked for some time apart for both their sakes.

And Grayson doesn't know where to look, his sight fading. His words just break and melt, there’s not enough time to ask for forgiveness. There is never enough time and he prays, for the first time in a long time, he prays for someone to save him from this darkness. All he needs is one more moment to make things right, for his last words to be of love and not a fight.

Closing his eyes, he feels his shoulders are shaking with force, realizing it’s Y/N and her attempt to keep him awake but he can’t do it, he can’t open his eyes. He can’t even hear her anymore, but he senses her hands on his face, the olive hand cream he bought her invading his senses and he’s grateful – he’s in the arms of the one he loves most – not a bad way to go for a man with his past.

“Grayson?” Y/N croaks, shaking him once more before her shaky hands grip his cheeks and her tears fall down on him as well.

She’s gasping for air that simply isn’t there. Her throat burns, forming a silent scream. The pressure inside her chest pushes forth, releasing the most hysterical cry, the screaming sobs only interrupted by her need to draw breath.

It’s a deep, primal sound, one humans are programmed not to ignore. Those who hid previously finally continued on their way, turning their heads toward Y/N, some of them even filming the scene. Caught between an impulse to help and another to stay out of bother, some simply looking for something to gather followers on Twitter, people gathered around them.

But whatever they chose their day had been altered. To be so close to such pain changes a person, even just temporarily. Their own pains come a little closer to the surface; their empathy is triggered.

Y/N can’t remember when the ambulance came, still checking his pulse – the only part of this keeping her breathing. His pulse is faint, but it’s there and she selfishly thought it’s her man fighting to stay with her.

For her.

She stepped away as they dragged him away from her, as if she wasn’t even there. Stepping up into the vehicle, she sat beside him and grabbed a hold of his hand, struggling to keep herself afloat. His hand is cold, something she never once felt in all the time she knew him and it only deepens her emotional breakdown.

It was all happening so fast, she couldn’t keep up. They got to the hospital rather quickly, taking him away from her without even giving her a chance to kiss him one more time.

Just in case.

She shakes her head at that thought, refusing to think so negatively at a time where Grayson needed hope. She needed hope too.

Pulling her phone out, she calls the one person she knew could give her some.

“Ethan?” Her hoarse voice is a dead giveaway something happened all while Ethan was in much bigger shit, blood up to his elbows after executing the last man they captured after procuring vital information.

“Who died?” It’s all he can say, realizing the answer may just kill him. He was calling Grayson minutes ago to tell him of a shooting they planned to kill Y/N in order to break him and he didn’t pick up. Shivers run down his spine as Y/N’s pause chips away what sanity he has. And it’s not much at this point.

“I need you.”

Ethan didn't think, grabbing his gun and jacket, his heart sinking at the sound of her voice. "Tell me where you are."

His assistant jumped as he barreled through the hallway, blood still fresh on his hands, a telltale sign he's losing his mind and someone might suffer for it.

"Where do you think you're going like that?" She hissed, stepping in his way confidently, refusing to buckle under his ruthless glare.

"Move." Ethan growls, his jaw clenching and his lips pressing together. He's furious, but he doesn't scare her. So, instead of moving away, she moves in, her arms wrapping around his tense body, ignoring the fact he's not returning the hug. Instead, she takes a whiff of his cologne, comforting herself since he didn't allow her to comfort him.

"I'm coming with you." Is all she says, taking her bag and his hand firmly, disallowing his near attempt at pushing her away. After months of caring for him and catering to all his needs, Selena wasn't about to abandon him when it counts the most.

Ethan wanted to thank her, to say he appreciates her kindness but the lump in his throat is too big and he fears speaking would make him crumble and he can't afford to be weak now. He can't break when he has to be the rock. So, instead of saying a word, Ethan grips her hand tighter and leads her into the company car, deciding it's best if he doesn't drive.

"Take me to the hospital." He orders the driver, turning to Selena with uncertainty in his eyes. She's trembling, he can tell, yet she's there with him - no questions asked.

Better yet, she's opening her bag and grabbing wet wipes, rubbing the blood off him meticulously to hide his crimes instead of reporting him and he never understood why Grayson was so keen on protecting Y/N before.

Truth be told, he loves Y/N like a sister and he can't imagine not having her in his life, but he finally realized the reason why Grayson loves Y/N, as selfish as that emotion is in their line of work.

Everyone needs someone to lean on and Ethan never expected to find someone he wanted as much as Selena, but in that moment he thanked his lucky stars he did. He wanted to kiss her like the moon does sea, weightless with the ability to move the deepest parts of her soul.

Ethan no longer wanted only sex and companionship, he wanted romance and vulnerability.

A faint smile appears on his lips as he shakes his head at the crazy thoughts plaguing him. Getting shot isn't always a bad thing, is it?

But reality isn't going anywhere and it weighs on him heavily.

"It's Grayson. It was a drive by shooting." Ethan tells her, noticing her pause in shock, unable to look in his eyes.

Selena lets out a shaky breath, glancing up at the tormented expression on Ethan's face and she can't help the tears forming in her eyes.

She knows Y/N and she knows Grayson and if they hadn't hired her when they did, she wasn't sure what her life would be now. She liked them, enough to make her heart ache but what made her cry is Ethan - if he hurts so does she.

And while she never thought of herself as a violent person, she discovered there is a lot more she doesn't know about herself in the past few months. Seems like Ethan is a man who is allowing her to reach into the depths of her very being, finally in tune with her own soul. So, before she comprehends it, she speaks with no remorse.

"Kill the bastard who did it."

Nodding, Ethan cracks a pained smile. "I intend to."

"Sir, we're here." The driver pipes in, ending the moment they shared effectively. Ethan had just gotten his hands clean but as he stepped out of the car, he could already tell his hands would be bloody yet again.

He didn't wait for Selena, making great strides toward the emergency room with his mind screaming at the possibility of what he might find.

He couldn't breathe until his eyes find Y/N, swallowing thickly as he sees the state she's in. Her hands are folded in her lap, bloody as are her legs. There is no light in her once bright eyes, the dash of spring her usual smile brings now turned into a harsh winter chilling everyone who dares glance at her.

Black tracks on her cheeks are constantly watering down with new streaks her unyielding, sorrowful tears create. And it breaks his heart to see her so lost, so beaten down that he can't help but remember the last time he saw her in that state - the day she rushed into his arms when Mikhail was killed and that was after a long while of torture.

This seemed worse.

Much worse.

"Y/N." His voice is deep, low, as if speaking in any other way would be disrespectful, as if her pain matters more than his.

Looking up at him, Y/N's eyebrows furrow and her eyes narrow, almost as if she can't believe Ethan is there...little did he know her mind played a trick on her and the light above his head nearly made her believe Grayson had come for her.

Standing up with the last atom of her strength, Y/N throws her arms around Ethan, holding him so tight he could have sworn she wanted to kill him. But she didn't.

She closed her eyes and pretended. She pretended it was Grayson, just for a moment. She couldn't cry anymore, not in heartbreaking sobs like she did when it first happened; the tears fell silently and her lips quivered on their own.

"He thinks I hate him." She whispers, her voice raspy and emotional, putting more weight on Ethan's shoulders. "We were arguing before it happened and", letting go of Ethan, she takes a step back only then noticing Selena behind Ethan.

Glancing at Ethan, she pressed her lips together, drawing a shuddered breath.

"If there is one thing I know it's that he loves you and he doesn't doubt your love either. He'd die for you." Ethan places his hands on her shoulders, bending enough to force eye contact she avoided as if she is ashamed of what Selena heard.

But Ethan's words rattle her, only reminding her when Grayson told her he loves her more than life. She warned him not to say that. It was heartfelt, she knew that and today she saw he truly meant it.

"And that's exactly what he did today. I want to believe, E...I want to so bad but...this was different than the first time. This was different than you." Holding her breath, Y/N felt a wave of desperation flood her and her eyes brought forth faster, anguished tears that drew their force from the very essence of her pain, so much so they don't fall but crash.

"I want to know who is responsible. I want them dead." Y/N's eyes harden as she spat hate, anger taking over as her hands form fists and Ethan could see she's out for blood. He wants to act too, he does. But she can't be a part of it.

The last thing Grayson would want is his sweet Y/N getting her hands dirty.

"I'll take care of it. I already know who it is." Ethan assures her, meaning well but all it does is set her soul aflame.

"We will take care of it. This is personal."

"No, no, no. Stay here and I'll come back when it's done. I promise." Ethan insists, pushing her back when she chuckles dryly, trying to pass him as if Selena knew the information she needed, as if she could do this herself.

Speaking though gritted teeth, Y/N stepped closer. "You can take me with you or I can follow you. Really wanna risk that?"

Licking his lips, Ethan couldn’t help but roll his eyes at her stubbornness. He’s heard how it usually troubled his brother but being confronted with it wasn’t exactly a picnic.

Her eyes are red and puffy but the determination in her eyes honestly scared him. Y/N isn’t bluffing and he had no possible way of controlling her decisions. If Grayson couldn’t, how could he?

Sighing in exasperation, Ethan rubs his chin, aware this is happening and he can’t escape. Well, he could, but it would include using force and Grayson would kill him if he even tried. Hell, he’d kick his ass just for considering it even if it was just a thought.

“Selena, can you please stay and keep us informed?” Ethan glances over his shoulder at the sweet brunette, smiling when she nods. He wished to hold her, even for just a moment but the last thing he needs is Y/N telling Grayson about them after all this is done, and it would be – Grayson would live to yell at him for inappropriate work relationships again. He knew it in his heart.

“I’ll call the boys to pick up the guilty party. Let’s go.” Y/N had to run to keep up with his stride, annoyed but unwilling to nag him when he’d given her the best possible gift – revenge.

Sitting in that waiting room would have drained her entirely, the guilt eating away at her. Y/N needed to do something to forget about Grayson’s current state, to ignore the fear’s iron grip.

The drive to their usual warehouse was longer from this side of the city, giving Y/N plenty time to think. Too much time.

It didn’t take long before her mind began to remember all the things she loved and hated about Grayson.

Ever since they moved into the penthouse, she absolutely hated his habit of spending all the hot water and forgetting to warn her about it. She hated how often he’d keep her up snoring and even more how he loved to frighten her when she’d come home from a night shift. It was a constant battle to teach him to wash the dishes properly and not just throw them away saying he’d buy new ones. Same thing applies to his clothes. She also hated how meticulous he was about the way his clothes were to be folded and especially about the way he’d insist the thermostat is supposed to be.

But there are so many things she loved about him too. She loved how sweet he is, how he’d cuddle her every day even when she was too shy to ask. He’d just know she needs it and his arms would already be around her. She also loved how he’d cut up fruit for her because he knew how she loves to snack on it, or how he’d leave her hearts on the mirror every time he’d finish his showers only for her to discover them after he’d gone to work. She adored how much thought he’d put in every word, every touch, every single gift he’d given her including his unwilling attainment of a singular hoodie for them to have a sense of normalcy. And most of all, she loved how he dismantled his gang related business just to make sure they have a bright future together.

Smiling, she realized every single action he does is to make her feel safe and loved. It’s his way of telling her he loves her without a single word passing his tender lips.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she hated herself with such ferocity over her last words spoken to him in undiluted anger. Their last interaction should have been filled with love not rage.

She never quite realized it before, but she was always his greatest achievement, the one he was proud of the most and now when they were inches from their happily ever after, from becoming a real family, they took him away from her – they ripped her heart out and she wanted to repay the favor.

“If something happens to me, you’d protect her, right?” Grayson tilts his head, hoping his brother would give him some sign he’d make sure his doll would be safe even if one of his enemies take him out. He’s tried to retire and forget the world he was born into but to do so isn’t up to him. It took him a while to understand that he will never truly be retired.

Even if he isn’t a criminal anymore, they still remember him and he’s still the symbol of the undefeated gang – The house of the rising sun ruled over New York for decades and many wanted to dethrone them, unfortunately that is possible only through slaughter.

“I would. She’s like a sister to me. I’d never let any harm come to her.” Ethan responds, not even thinking about it. It’s true, his affection for Y/N is strong and platonic.

“Promise me.” Grayson demands softly, aware he shouldn’t be distrustful toward his twin but he couldn’t help but be irrational when it’s Y/N’s life at stake.

All the signs and latest assassins have made him paranoid, spending so much of his time making sure none of them ever get close to Y/N and he wasn’t sorry.

When Y/N is at stake, he’d let blood run until there’s a river flowing through the streets. She’s his weakness and yet the reason why he remains Hellhound to any with intent of using her against him.

Those who tried are all dead now.

Ethan understood, though, willing to make his brother a vow. “I promise.”

He didn’t feel like he’s upholding his promise anymore. It felt like he broke it before his brother had even died, even more when he saw Y/N reach for a gun in her purse.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ethan gave her an incredulous look, nearly having a stroke when he saw her take the safety off.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” Her impassive response only made him more anxious and he couldn’t ignore it anymore.

“I thought he bought you a taser not a fucking gun!” Shouting, he tried to pry the gun from her hands but he found resistance.

“He did. But I took his.” Pulling away from Ethan, she rolls her eyes at his paled face.

“He thought me how to use this as well how to fight. I’m not a damsel in distress and I’m done waiting for someone to protect me and the baby.” Opening the door, she stepped out swiftly, setting off to where Grayson once took her. Granted, he took her against his will because she demanded to know everything.

“BABY?!” Ethan’s gruff scream had made her stop, waving him over to quicken his pace.

“Yeah. Congrats on being an uncle. Well, you’re not one yet but you will be.” She chuckles and Ethan can’t help but wonder if she’s completely mad at this point.

There’s one thing to put her in danger but the baby too?

Grayson will surely kill him when he finds out.

“You’re going to get me killed.” Ethan complains as she opens the door and is found face to face with three people, all tied up and gagged. Two men she had never seen in her life and a woman.

“Fucking Kerry.” Y/N spat, walking over to her, backhanding her without remorse.

Kerry seems almost amused as she shoots Y/N a wink only sending her into a fit of rage. “You fucking bitch!”

No one dared to hold her back as Y/N screamed, throwing punch after punch, not even when Kerry’s nose was clearly broken and bleeding and Y/N’s raw knuckles weren’t much better.

Ethan grabbed a hold of her, pulling her arms behind her back seemingly the easiest way to stop her without harming her or the baby.

“I will fucking kill you!” Y/N screamed as Ethan dragged her out and away from the situation. Before the door closed, Y/N could hear three distinctive gunshots. It only made it worse.

Ethan didn’t care if she hated him, he protected her as he promised his twin. Rage often makes us do what we regret when our mind is clear once again and he knew she’d regret it eventually. Killing is never easy and someone as pure as her would be haunted by it as he and Grayson are.

“WHY?! I WANTED TO DO IT!” Her venom turned to tears and before Ethan knew it, her body shook with new sobs breaking through the surface. “I can’t do this without him, E. I can’t!” She wailed, allowing Ethan to carry her back into the car.

He cradled her like a child, holding her close, his own tears showing. They truly understood one another, their pain is the same. “Shh.” Ethan whispered, worried about the baby and the stress this day had brought. “You won’t have to. My brother is nothing if not stubborn. He won’t leave us yet.”

The two returned to the hospital, neither capable of speaking anymore. There’s nothing to say anymore, nothing to do, just wait.

“He’s out of surgery but we won’t be able to see him for a few more hours until he’s stable.” Selena explains, only then receiving a hug she craved for the entire day. Ethan’s chest had become home for her and it felt indescribably good to be home again.

Y/N watched with envy, wondering when will she be able to return to her safe place. “Can I at least see him through the glass?” Y/N pipes in, weary of interrupting them in a moment they both needed. She was happy for Ethan but she couldn’t help but be bitter about her own unhappiness.

“I’ll make it happen.” Selena promised, ducking out of there quickly, a woman on a mission and she never fails.

“You lied to me.” Y/N accuses, her tired eyes giving him a bleak look of disappointment but there is no more anger left inside her. She’s desolated and the only one who would ever make it better is unconscious in a hospital bed.

“About Kerry.” She clarifies as confusion settles. “I asked you if he was cheating and he told me they kissed…Well, she kissed him. It was obviously a ploy to separate us.” Y/N musses, fixing Ethan with her gaze and he shifts uncomfortably, feeling as if he had let her down.

“I know. I saw it happen and Grayson explained. I thought the pain would be unnecessary. Besides, her motive was to break him. She admitted it to our men who took her. She wanted him to lose you, me, the company…everything before she could kill him herself. She blamed you…and him for what happened to her brother.” Ethan explains, taking her hand in his for comfort she so desperately needs but she shies away.

“It wasn’t. Anyone’s fault, I mean. Her brother knew what he was getting himself into when he joined us and Grayson avenged his death. She used their history and her brother’s death to manipulate Grayson who is drowning in guilt, but he loves you Y/N. He’d never cheat on you.”

“I know.” She manages a meek smile, averting her eyes toward the door they took him through – the door that took him away from her.

“I lost sight of it along the way, allowed that psycho to get in my head and I’m just dreading losing him now. It’s always been my worst fear…to have him choose another or lose him to death…I guess I really need to start working on my insecurities and believe in him more.” Shrugging, she glances at Ethan who nods, ecstatic she isn’t holding his lie against him.

“But you can’t lie to me like that again, E. I love you like a brother, but lying isn’t something I enjoy. Not about the psycho bitches kissing my man and not about the obvious issues regarding his past. He’s always gonna be haunted by them, won’t he?” She tilts her head to the right, sucking her bottom lips in and Ethan realizes she’s right – it’s more dangerous if she doesn’t know.

“Yes. I don’t think we’ll ever truly be rid of them. But it isn’t as bad as it seems. Not many dare come after him and those who did have all died. I expect a long while before there’s another issue. But when it comes, we will deal with it. I promise you.”

Sniffling, Y/N offers a crooked smile in gratitude though her words are borderline sarcastic. “My heroes.”

“You can see him. Go through there and they’ll take you to him. Just gotta put on those clothes, you know that better than me.” Selena’s words are like rain after months of draught and Y/N’s legs move quickly, nearly stumbling as she rushes toward the door.

1st Person POV

Shaky legs, trembling hands, I try my best not to cry as I follow a nurse on the way to where my heart lies. It’s impossible to keep my head up high anymore, this had defeated me – today had nearly killed me.

Resting a hand on my lower abdomen, I draw a quick breath to keep my mind clear, as clear as it can be considering the circumstances. What I’m certain of is that today had the power to break me yet I’m still standing and he…he’s still breathing.

Putting on the cap and gown, I’m fast to enter his room despite what I’ve been told. No one could keep me away from him in this moment, not even death.

His skin is ashen, far too pale in comparison to his usual tan. The eyes I love so much are closed shut and while he’s not dependent on a breathing tube, his state is shocking. The ever-present smirk is gone from his lips, no more teasing or sass leaving them and that’s probably the scariest part of it all – he’s quiet, eerily so.

When we first met, Grayson was a man of few words but when he gave me his heart, his trust and undying loyalty, Grayson never really shut up and while I used to be annoyed with his incredibly long stories while I was trying to study, I’d trade everything to hear them again.

"Thank you for saving me." I murmur, delicately placing my hand on his cheek, terrified it would somehow hurt him. But it doesn’t, in fact, Grayson’s eyelids flicker, his struggle to open his eyes taking my breath away.

"It's nothing." Grayson sighs; his voice raspy, his face twisting in agony as he attempts to move his hand to encase mine.

"You could have died! It’s not nothing, Grayson! Kerry could have killed us and you protected me. You kept me safe. " Helping him, I take his hand and give it a light squeeze, the one that ensured he knew how much he means to me. He manages to open his eyes, his gaze longing and sweet, no anger about Kerry or our argument from before reflecting in his brown hues.

Grayson's lips twitch as if a smile would hurt him but he wanted to try for my sake. It's as if he found my words to be ridiculous. "Dying to save the woman I love? My child? There are worse ways to go, doll. It's the most honest thing I have done in my entire life. But next time you warn me about someone, I’ll believe you."

Turning his head so his lips would press a tender kiss upon my palm, Grayson lets out a heavy sigh. "I'd have done it a thousand times over if I had to. You mean more to me than I can say, especially with morphine making me question what's real and what's a dream."

Licking his dry lips, he succeeds and smirks. "Sometimes I worry you're just a dream. You're far too good for me."

Chin quivering, I shake my head and lean in. Resting my forehead on his as gently as possible, my nose brushing his cheek, I feel my heart clench in wake of his words. I've always felt he's too good for me, but never had it crossed my mind he might feel that he's unworthy of me.

I love him very much. More than I can trust myself to say. More than words have the power to express.

“Never. We’re just right for one another.” My whisper brings about a goofy smile on his face and I can’t help but reciprocate, holding back tears I know would only weigh on him.

“Soulmates.” He speaks as his eyes close again.

“I guess you could call it that.” I nod, chuckling, receiving no response. I lean back with a fond smile, realizing he’d fallen asleep again, his relaxed smile remaining put. “Sweet dreams, handsome.”

Grayson’s recovery had certainly been difficult, especially when I once again imposed the ‘no sex’ rule until his wounds healed. “This really isn’t fair.” He’d argue but even if I did desire him, I wasn’t as easy to break.

Another thing that bothered him greatly is being unable to return to work. Ethan had taken over the business for a while, allowing me to confiscate Grayson’s work phone thus ensuring he’d take it easy for a while. However, I soon realized Ethan had a hidden motive for doing that as it protected his secret as well. Unlucky for him, one moment in the same room with him and Selena and Grayson was up to speed.

“You’re fucking your assistant, aren’t you asshole?” Grayson whisper shouts, using the first alone moment with Ethan to chew him out.

“Literally not the bigger issue here.” Ethan chuckles, watching Grayson’s face turn red and that vein on his forehead appear only signifying his frustration.

Trying to sit up, Grayson swings at Ethan in hopes of catching him and pulling him closer to do some actual damage but Ethan maneuvers around his attempt easily.

“No fighting and no getting up!” I reprimand him from outside the room, not even pretending I’m not listening in. I mean, can you blame me?

“THIS IS THE THIRD ONE IN A ROW!” Grayson growls, already seeing the headlines once a reporter catches a whiff of the story and oh the lawsuit that would follow that could bankrupt them wasn’t far in his mind either.

“At least I didn’t impregnate anyone!” Ethan retaliates and I can’t help but pipe in, slightly offended.

“HEY!”

“Sorry sis, I’m still happy for ya!” Ethan’s apology makes me smile but it also makes me walk into the room with my arms crossed.

“He’s obviously serious about Selena and from the way she handled everything that day, I’m rooting for them. So stop being a grumpy old man and start be encouraging. Love love Gray.”

Needless to say he pouted for a few days for taking Ethan’s side in the argument, but he was still the cuddliest human being on the planet. I didn’t really mind. It had given us plenty time to genuinely talk and revise what we’ve gone through and for once, neither of us had any reservations about our future.

“I never really imagined myself having kids.” Grayson admits, quietly as if it’s a sin as he lays on my chest, my fingers threading through his hair. “I mean; this life we have now is…let’s just say the old me would never believe it’s real. I still struggle believing in it.” His hand moves down to my stomach, rubbing soothing circles over my shirt.

Smiling, I pull his hand lower where the uterus is, causing him to chuckle in the process. “I hope our baby gets your brain.” He whispers, warming my heart.

“I hope she gets your eyes.” I add and in seconds, he lifts his head and looks at me with a confused look on his face.

“She?” He questions and I shrug, running my knuckle along his sharp jaw fondly.

“Just a feeling. You’re gonna have one tough girl on your hands.” I respond, enjoying the way he pales this time around.

“I can barely handle one of you. Oh, God.” Plopping his head between my boobs, he groans once more before pulling himself up and beside me. “I love you, but I’m not sure I’ll survive this fatherhood thing.”

“You ran a gang, you still run a company. You’ll do just fine you big baby.” I remark, earning an earnest cackle.

“You’re badass. More badass than me from what I’ve heard. A force to be reckoned with. Untamed, nothing but flames.” Raising his eyebrow, Grayson leans in, his eyes undeniably set on mine wishing to lean upon them with passion and fierceness.

“Thought you liked me being innocent and all that.” I roll my eyes, dragging my tongue across my lips as if to lure him in and I can tell it’s working, his gulp and dark, piercing gaze speaks volume of it.

“I supposed I was wrong. I still love all of you – innocent and ferocious. A perfect combination.” And with that, his lips meet mine and I’m in heaven once more. The happiness Grayson invokes is infectious.

It starts as a tingle in my fingers and toes, a lot like the feeling I get when I'm anxious, but instead of worry it brings forth warmth. I feel it pass through me like a warm ocean wave, washing away the stress of my days to leave me refreshed inside. As the wave fades I savor the memory of its gentle touch. The feeling is a blissful evocation of time spent with Grayson on the beach when he whisked me away to Hawaii and we dared to dream how we’d could run away and forever be as carefree.

How I loved those days when we walked on the sand and simply talked, laughed and made silly jokes as well as the long, fiery nights filled with nothing but intimacy and pleasure. But they can continue here as well, our love can remain as strong as it was back then.

There will always be another who wants to take the crown of the Hellhound – the king of New York and I was afraid. I was terrified.

Not anymore.

Grayson is no longer the only one with a taste for blood and God help those who try to harm my family.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Tags: @voidgray @dancingstardolans @love-mysterious-love @kayla20448 @purplelilac0223 @whotfiskate @yellowitsmendes @lanadeldolans @reblogdolan @graysdiabla @cuteunicorns11 @its-pickle @ancoraesisto @mutuallynotmutual @annyanns @beinscorpio @fallinginlove-16 @dxlansfxck @yazziemp3 @usdolans @bqbyyhoneyy @dolanficrecs @sugarfootdolan @heyits-claire @godlydolans @accalialionheart @lacydolans @starrydolan @g-e-dolan @kaiadolan @jeffxchella @mmmmmgd @livelongdolan @woeitsaly @stephdolan @dangerouslybitchyb @grayson-dolans-dangly-earring @sparklydonkeyhandsdeputy @hey-graysondobrik @cheepwine @smileygrayson @sadboidols @needysposts @soontobecool @r3sil3nc3 @chvrrydolan @ahoneybeing @daddygraysonsbitch @dolandolll @prettymuchdolansbitch @babyboydxlan @blueporschedolan @mindlessdolan @mmoonx @giggling-grayson @ethanhes @harryigprompt @ancoraesisto @kpoppindolans @dolansmith @mendesficsxbombay @peacedolantwins

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #ethan dolan #grayson dolan x reader #grayson dolan fanfic #grayson dolan series #grayson dolan au #grayson dolan angst #grayson dolan mafia au #grayson dolan mini series #grayson dolan fic #grayson dolan fanfiction

55 notes · View notes

radramblog · 3 years

Text

Elder Dragon Highlander

Commander is a format of Magic the Gathering that has become almost completely detached from its original premise. Much of what the format is is built upon the concept of Elder Dragon Highlander- 21 Commander damage is lethal because that’s 3 hits from an Elder Dragon, the slow grindy format built to accommodate the original 5’s heavy mana investment and limited effects.

But that was a long time ago, and the designers at WoTC have opted to attach the moniker of Elder Dragon to a number of additional cards. 21 total cards hold the name, 4 cycles of 5 apiece with one straggler at the back.

What is considered “elder” is largely to do with lore, I think, but due to its association with such iconic cards, it’s interesting to see how and what the label is attached to.

I’ll, uh….do cube something next week? I dunno. But this is the Elder Dragons.

The original 5

The first elder dragon cycle is kind of iconic of Magic in general. Released in Legends, they were the first tricoloured cards in the entire game, were I believe the biggest and most expensive cards of the time, and all represented characters from the comics that I think just about everyone forgets existed.

They do not even remotely resemble modern design. Clunky is one thing, but the quintuplets are almost aberrant to what would be considered attractive Magic cards. A monstrous investment of mana in multiple colours that has a continuous upkeep of more mana, all for an arguably understatted flying creature with one extra ability. Chromium gets Rampage, a keyword that started in Legends, ended in Mirage, and doesn’t have reminder text despite being arguably confusing. Palladia-Mors gets Trample, making it arguably one of the best ones. Vaevictis Asmadi gets Firebreathing in all 3 of its colours, in case 8+3+3+3… wasn’t enough mana-shaped eggs in one basket for you. Arcades gets a bonus ability in toughness-breathing, to make up for it’s deliberately mediocre ability- the “oh cool I can use this with vigilance” eureka/fun brain moment quashed by its pointless limitation.

And then, of course, there’s Nicol Bolas. Somehow one of the game’s most iconic characters, in an art rendition that makes a powerful villain look like a gentle draconic geriatric. (EDITORS NOTE: still Rad here but I just now noticed this mf has a fucking dragon nipple, wtf?) I suppose Bolas becoming so well known was inevitable, if only because it was the only one of the most popular cycles with an actually cool and powerful ability. There are currently 210 more Bolas decks than any other member of this cycle, and that difference also happens to be twice what the other four have combined.

Bolas is arguably the only one that stood the test of time, the only one to ever show up independently of the other 4. I suppose we’ll see if any of the rest do the same, but I wouldn’t get my hopes up.

(Elder) Dragons of Tarkir

The titular Dragons of Tarkir’s third set (Dragons of Tarkir) were a set I was excited to see as the cards were being spoiled. The lore of the plane was interesting, with Magic stepping into a plot with time travel and finally showing us what Ugin looked like after almost 10 years of curiosity. The dragons that would become the Clan leaders had appeared previously in Fate Reforged, and the editions that we’d see as Elders- 10,000 years older and in some cases even wiser- presented a powerful and exciting cycle. Unlike with the Legends dragons, I’m pretty sure all of these saw play somewhere.

Ironically, though, I’m pretty sure these were deliberately tuned for Standard rather than the format named after their typeline. Even outside of Kolaghan’s line of text that….doesn’t do a whole lot in the format, Ojutai and Silumgar were pretty obviously built to be the finishers in the Esper Dragons deck that ran them, Atarka a clear top-end for Gruul Monsters (and, eventually, Eldrazi Ramp), and Dromoka a potential menace in Dromoka’s Command-backed Midrange lists. These cards are all quite powerful, but they’re built for a different kind of game.

That’s I suppose the biggest issue with the Dragons of Dragons of Tarkir, they were underwhelming. The set as a whole was fairly middling, though I did truly enjoy the draft format. I’m pretty sure the most played card in the set is fucking Collected Company, one I kind of despise, followed with Kolaghan’s Command which is just a traumatic experience for me. And while 3 of these 5 are seeing more play than their past counterparts, including Dragonlord Ojutai being literally 10 times more commonly seen than Soul of Winter, that difference is largely a matter of power (or lack thereof), the Mythic Dragonlords being obviously stronger than their Rare originals. The rare ones are arguably more fun, though, and that’s what matters to me.

Legends…2! (aka core set 2019)

Part of the theme of Core Set 2019 was the story (read: retcon so the ending of War of the Spark makes more sense) of Bolas and Ugin in their youth, which meant that we got to get updated, modern designs of the original Elder Dragons (not Ugin tho lmao). And by Modern, I kind of mean postmodern, because we’re at the point where Commander cards start getting absurd All The Time.

Each of the Elder Dragons of Core 2019 (copyright WoTC 2018) have the benefits of updated design practices with 24 extra years of experience, as well as not having to have a million words on them for silly reasons like extra mana sacrifice triggers. Even Palladia-Mors, probably the weakest of them (and still pretty threatening!), gets to have flavour text hinting at a potential return (which hasn’t happened yet).

When you’re designing cards like these, though, it’s inevitable that some are going to be overshadowed by others. Baby Bolas, of course, was one of the flagship cards for the set, being a transforming Planeswalker with lots of abilities that wins the game in just the most classy way I’ve seen in a minute. And Arcades took a fun niche deck people liked and blew it wide open, making Defenders into one of the most disgusting Offensive decks in a minute.

But then there’s Chromium, a fairly powerful Voltron/Control finisher but not one that leads you in any particular direction. Vaevictis does lead in fun directions, but would then be completely dwarfed by the absurdity that is Lord Windgrace the same year and Korvold the next one.

Outside of a few, this cycle feels like it got kind of lost in the shuffle, and I think that’s not really that much a reflection of the cards (except maybe Palladia, the Naya Problem rearing its ugly head again), and more the greater issue with Magic as a whole just shitting out cards constantly faster than most can catch up.

Welcome to Strixhaven School of Magecraft and Sideboardary

Our final cycle is the new kids on the block, the Strixhaven dragons. I suppose one way to make the definitely not Hogwarts Houses (they’re colleges, Clearly) seem important is attach a giant Fuckoff Dragon next to them.

A thing I like a lot about Strixhaven as a set is how it was introducing a new Thing for each of the enemy colour pairs to do- Golgari Lifegain, Boros Graveyard, Izzet Spells But Big Ones Instead Also Treasures?. The set came with loads and loads of cards supporting each of these themes, and having Commander 2021 alongside it and associated with it means they’re well supported by that as well. But, and this is the important part, the Elder Dragons aren’t as overshadowed because they too are doing something different, even if its rather slight in some cases, on their own- but each supporting or being supported by the Dragon in question.

Beledros is a Big Mana Golgari commander (normally seen in Mono-Green or Gruul) whose huge life cost is assisted by the Lifegain cards Witherbloom got. Galazeth helps ramp into the giant spells associated with Prismari while also making the alternate discard into treasure option some of those spells have a lot better. Tanazir doubles the power of Quandrix’s Fractal tokens, and makes them even more huge when attacking due to then natively being 0/0s. And I don’t really know what the idea in Silverquill is other than “Politics”, but Shadrix looks fucking cool and probably plays really nicely. It’s just a really fucking solid cycle.

It’s not really possible to tell how these 5 are going to play out- Strixhaven is still the latest Standard Set to release at time of writing. But I wouldn’t be surprised if this is the most successful Elder Dragon cycle as a whole assuming you’re looking at, like, mean Decks.

And then there’s The Other One

As part of Modern Horizons 2, cards for a set of characters from alllll the way back from those Legends stories were created- a new Dakkon, a Geyadrone Dihada, and the Elder Dragon that showed up in their story- Piru.

Piru is, obviously, a reference to the original cycle of Elder Dragons, but in a Wedge colour rather than a Shard. And with an extra keyword, which is something I missed, because it makes all the difference. I had written this card off, until I realised that Lifelink triggered from the death trigger, and when this thing dies it isn’t too hard to gain dozens of life points. That’s a lot and combined with clearing the board it’s not too hard to get virtually unkillable. I love leaning into the downside from the original dragons by adding a powerful death trigger like this.

Piru released very recently, and already has 112 decks to her name. I wouldn’t be surprised if that plateaus, but it’s still rather promising. 8 mana is a lot in non-green colours, but I like Piru, and I’d be happy to see her see lots and lots of play going forward.

While 2021 has so far had more Elder Dragons than any other year, they’ve been a very promising cadre with a lot of interesting ideas going on. With that said, I’m not sure that I want the trend to continue, because the more they make (the more Elders in general, really), the less special they get. But for now at least, it looks like we’re finally getting to a good place for Elder Dragons. Only took us 27 years.

#ramble #mtg #edh #commander #elder dragon highlander

5 notes · View notes

luvbotclub · 4 years

Photo

stay — part one: mark lee.

it’s not me, it’s you— you had a change of heart. what kind of change of heart was that and why didn’t feel it? or in which mark doubts himself as an idol, a boyfriend, and a person.

content warning for angst, i’m sorry markzens. 4,867 words.

this can be read as x reader or x oc since i didn’t give mark’s girlfriend a name (this applies to the other parts as well). the other parts may be a little delayed since i’m working on some other fics as well, but i’ll try my best to finish this series! i hope you will enjoy reading this one :D

the sun was shining outside his window. the sunlight seeped through his silk curtains, and for some reason, mark lee didn't feel like sliding them aside and welcoming the april warmth with open arms today, or any other day to be honest. he didn't bother getting up and cooking himself some delicious breakfast, nor did he get up and at least fix his appearance a little bit. he was so disheartened to do anything ever since she left.

but mark has been feeling less like... well, mark nowadays, so there was no question as to why he was acting the way he is. but who could blame him? almost five months has passed and he has made close to no progress with moving on from her. her departure and the demise of them has impacted mark in the worst ways there is to exist.

mark has managed to go out with taeyong and jaehyun for some coffee two days prior to this unfortunate saturday morning without somehow making everyone around him feel burdened by his troubled presence.

mark hated that feeling the most ㅡ the feeling that he’s slowly becoming a burden to the people around him. and perhaps he is, indeed, starting to become a burden to the people around him.

he's tried. he's tried so hard. but it hurts, so so much. the feeling of her warm embrace and the sound of her laugh and the way she smiles are all fucking imprinted in his mind. there was no escape from her torturous murder. the poison she uses is cutting into his skin… slowly, leaving a trail of rotten memories behind.

maybe if she hadn't left him so harshly, mark would've dealt with her farewell a lot better than he is doing right now. maybe, just maybe, if she hadn't been so cruel enough to just tell him straight in the face that it's not me, it's you, you had a change of heart; mark would've forgiven himself faster. his chest would have been filled with something other than guilt and confusion to what he's done wrong, why did she leave, who made her leave, what kind of fucking change of heart was that and why in fuck's name didn't he feel it.

mark has tried to spend more time with her. he really did try, but success came for his group faster than nct and sm entertainment had expected, and he trained longer in the practice room for six days per week for their tour and comeback to make a bigger impact than before. but, in the end, when he's back in their shared apartment, it feels like everything he did wasn't enough. the awards he won, the effort he put into dancing, each lyric he sings out every blurred, sweaty night just for millions to hear. they weren't enough to make her smile reach her eyes. they weren't enough to make her satisfied with him.

they weren't enough for her to stay.

sometimes, mark would think. maybe he's really the one to the blame. maybe he should have just taken more breaks and spent more time with her ― cook lunch with her, cuddle with her on the couch, give her massages while she ranted and ranted about the rude customers at her workplace, the marais. maybe, instead of sweating and singing his heart out, he could have stayed home. maybe he should have been a better boyfriend. maybe he wasn't good enough.

for the past few days, mark's mind has been filled with maybe's and what if's and i'm never going to be good enough's. it was strange. he felt all this remorse ― he even blamed himself because he was doing what he had been wanting to do for a long time ― and all this confusion because of a girl who has sent his friends snapchats of her playing just dance with her workmates a day after she said goodbye, because of a girl who left him on a living room floor with a heart that fell into pieces and the echoes of his pleas for her to please stay with me in each corner of the room ㅡ haunting him, crawling to his skin like the remnants of a bad dream.

it was selfish for mark to think, nor to say aloud, but a despicable part of him wished she felt somewhat guilty for leaving him behind in the dust like this ㅡ or even be concerned about his well being. but no. she left in the first place without a care ㅡ why would she care about whatever’s happening in mark’s mind, now that she has a great life without an idol boyfriend who's always dragging her down?

but today. today. it felt like the day to start living his life again, to live like mark lee who could make people smile just by the sound of his laugh alone. he's disappeared for exactly two weeks from television appearances, family dinners, and friendly get-togethers ㅡ even company parties, he couldn't attend. he was in the stage of denial in the first week, like he was mourning over a death of a loved one. fans have left comments, questions as to why he disappeared all of a sudden all over nct’s twitter and instagram pages and they’ve started to worry whether mark was doing okay or not. his family grew concerned for his well-being, so did his fellow members. they sent him food with stupid little hearts taped to the lunchbox (taeil once sent him naengmyun, along with a paper heart with a classy dad joke and his well wishes scribbled on it). they sent him encouraging messages almost everyday ― the fans, his family, his fellow members. they're all there for him, because they knew that mark isn't okay.

mark decided to get up from his bed an hour after he finished the piece of toast and cup of coffee he both made in a haste. he didn’t even bother putting anything along with the toast, and it was burnt. everyday, his breakfast gets worse. but he needed to put something in his stomach ― he's not going to be in this state forever and he still needed to take care of himself.

mark's grip on the plate was tight, knuckles white as he rested the ceramic plate on the sink. he turned his head after washing his hands and saw the shoe and coat rack by the front door. it was strange to see her newly bought pair of nikes and her ivory coat gone from the racks ― they were her least favoured articles of clothing. maybe she could have left them with him, so he could have something that reminds him of her presence.

but, no. that's way too cruel, isn't it? she did mark a favour of not leaving a single trace of her behind, even as little as a speck of dust from her belongings or a smear of her red lipstick on his favourite white mug. she knew she was practically death itself to him ― her name a lethal spoken curse, her scent a guilty pleasure, her voice a melody so deadly. to love her will be a death wish, but he feels and loves her without a single trace of fear that it'd harm him one day. he loves her. every inch, every night spent watching stupid random shows in the tv, every kiss, every parent joke they've cracked together. he misses them. he misses her. and sometimes he didn't even care if it were his fault or hers ― because either way, she'll still leave an empty shell in his chest, a shell that longed to be filled with her love again.

mark lee never thought it was possible for his heart to ache for someone so much.

he closed his eyes and breathed out a heavy sigh, wanting nothing more than to scream out his frustrations and drink some good fucking coffee right now. but the coffee maker was broken, and mark didn't feel like going out to town and buying a new one. it might sound like it was a stupid reason and he knew perfectly well of the fact, but he doesn't want everyone to see him like this... whatever he is right now.

is he even human at this point? he feels like someone ripped half of his body and soul and he just feels the opposite of the caring mark everybody adored. he feels like he doesn't even have a heart beating right now as his eyes are closed to the darkness — just an empty chest and an empty head.

mark wants to be somewhere else other than this damn apartment. it was way too depressing and he finally got sick of being burdened by it all — it was way too exhausting to be so burdened all the time, to have your head weighed down by thoughts of what could have happened. maybe he can go to a clear field with a nice, baby blue sky, or the coffee house in town where soft jazz played. he didn’t even like jazz. maybe anywhere, just to get away from this place. even the recording studio sounded inviting right now.

the roar of mark's ringtone ripped through the silent room, and it took him a few seconds to recover from the small jumpscare he got before he grabbed his phone that was in his sweatshirt pocket. mental note: put your phone in silent mode next time.

it was a text from jeno.

[jeno]: hi hyung. you up for coffee later with jaemin later? XD

mark suppressed the urge to roll his eyes at the emoticon. jeno could be really ridiculous (and cringy) sometimes, yet he couldn’t ignore the letters that were practically glowing at his eyes, screaming for his reply to be fuck yes i am up for this, but as mark was somewhat in mid reply (and it was an awfully nonchalant yeah, sure with no stupid emoji to support his message), his fingers stopped typing.

would it be worth it, though? he doesn't even have the mental energy to go out and buy his own food, let alone go out for coffee (even though he's succeeded once...). a small part of him felt bad for jeno. all the boy wanted was to drink coffee with his members, but mark's fucking sadness is stopping him. it's not even jeno's fault mark turned out like this these past few weeks.

after a few seconds of contemplating, mark continued typing his message, feeling a little afraid of making jeno think he was uninterested.

[me]: yeah, sure. 😃 can you pick me up?

he tapped the send button, instantly regretting that he added the smiling emoji at the end (because now he sounds so enthusiastic to go, even if a part of him really did) and the fact that he just asked his friend to do him yet another favour. mark felt bad for jeno, he really did, but he didn't even know where the coffee shop was, and, knowing mark, he gets lost sometimes because the boy had no sense of direction whatsoever. jeno's response came a few seconds after, which amazed mark for a bit since jeno was never the fastest replier.

[jeno]: geez, hyung 😒

[jeno]: i'll be there around 1, jaem had to run some errands so he’ll be a lil late. see you later!!!

feeling relieved jeno didn't pry any more into the subject, mark locked his phone and put in his sweatshirt pocket. he felt more fresh, somehow, he felt like his steps won't be heavy and that his life will actually improve today. like an imaginary weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. maybe he should treat jeno and jaemin with lunch one day, if the day went well.

after a few hours of sitting in the sofa and listening to a bunch of songs taeyong has sent him over the past few days, mark went to take a nice, warm shower and changed into his “outside” clothes (...which were the same as his stay-in clothes) and waited for jeno and jaemin outside his locked home, foot tapping on the pavement out of habit.

as promised through his text, jeno arrived at mark's place at the same time when the clock in mark's phone read 1:00 pm. mark felt like grabbing jeno and giving him the biggest hug he's ever given to another member once he jumped off of the black van he arrived in ㅡ the boy's done so much for him ㅡ sending lunchboxes, agreeing to meet up with him in 3am nights where mark couldn't sleep at all, and, now, agreeing to pick mark up right on time even if he probably had million of things going through his mind right now, with nct dream's comeback slowly approaching them.

“hey, hyung,” greeted jeno, brown hair swept to the side messily. after a very long time, there was a genuine smile on mark's lips ㅡ he was happy to see a familiar face in the midst of this chaos. “you ready to go?”

mark gave the younger man a nod, and pocketed his phone in his pants.

a few minutes of catching up led them to full time story-telling, which is totally typical of the parent-like pair of friends. mark was smiling the whole time, because, again, he was with a familiar face and he hadn't been able to speak his mind to another person for a few days, constantly insecure of what others would think of him and his thoughts.

they were overcome with surprise when the driver pulled up on the pavement since they were too caught up in their conversation to pay attention to their surroundings, signalling that they've arrived in the said café. it seemed like the other cafés he's visited before. it had treats and specials lined up by the baby blue tinted window, ranging from strawberry cream puffs to the manager's favourite mushroom pizza. mark looked at the café’s exterior in astonishment and glanced back at jeno. jeno had good taste.

mark looked at the café one more time. he still had a few moments before they went inside; jeno was taking too damn well to adjust his facemask. it was perfect ㅡ black tables at the patio with white chairs as a contrast, fancy little plants lined up just by the café's entrance.

it was all fun until his eyes darted over to the shop's logo, etched in a fancy script font and a mighty golden colour. the light in mark's eyes faltered and the smile plastered on his face dropped in desultory, as the letters made his throat go dry.

the marais.

singing is a stupid thing now. he doesn't feel like singing a bunch of twisted words just for millions to hear. no. he doesn't feel like doing anything. getting scolded at for not singing a note properly is getting tiresome. constantly redoing certain parts because the producer didn’t like it is getting tiresome. thinking of her at any given opportunity is getting tiresome. doing this, whatever it is... it's tiresome.

“i hope you’re happy today,” came the soft muse of donghyuck through his headset. it was strange that mark felt something strong snap in his chest just because of these words. they were going through the songs in the album and mark didn’t know why he was even required to be here for that — he wasn’t even in make your day.

when he heard his dongsaeng’s verse, he felt like crying again. he’s gotten so bad — this was just all so fucking tiring. all he can think about is the way she looked that day in the café, stunned to see the two tall idols in her sight and soon seeing jaemin rush into the shop without much care if he was causing a ruckus or not. she didn’t think that she would see him ever again, thinking that she’s ran away from all of that, the exhausting world of mark lee and being constantly shoved to the side.

“i'm ― i'm sorry," his voice is weak. the words were strained coming out of his throat. he couldn't breathe, but he had to do this. “i can’t do this. not today, no.”

am i really doing this?

mark's heart skipped a beat. yes.

he removed his headset quickly, the song cutting off just as jaehyun’s part began. mark grabbed his cap and mask from the table and put them on. he felt no feeling of hesitation or remorse from his actions as he stared at the producer and members, all staring back at him and obviously stunned. mark shook his head and turned his back on them, ignoring donghyuck’s tired and annoyed stare burning at the back of his head. he really tried to be okay for one day, but he can't do that. the closure she gave wasn't enough — well, was there ever any closure in the first place? he had to give his own closure, or else he'll explode from all these feelings burning his insides with guilt that he didn't even have to feel in the first place if he just became a better boyfriend, a better person.

“mark, come back here,” taeyong’s tired drawl came, echoing through the halls. mark stopped walking but didn’t face his hyung. “you’re really going to skip a recording just for a girl who doesn’t even want to see you anymore?”

taeyong’s words stung, but mark swallowed and gave a firm, “yes.”

as he walked down the hallways and ignoring the incredulous burning stares of the crew, wondering why the hell he was out in the hall instead of being in the recording studio like his schedule declared so, mark thought of all the things he'll say. they need to make sense or else skipping a recording session will all be for nothing and the scolding from taeyong would make him feel even guiltier for the rest of his entire life. i love you, you heartless prick. no. that's way too blunt. i love you, and i don’t need you to say the same thing. i just want you to say goodbye one last time.

that’s all mark ever wanted.

that’s all mark ever needed.

he called a taxi and immediately got in, telling the driver his destination which was the marais. a frown was evident on the young idol's face as his phone vibrated text message after text message, all either from taeyong or taeil telling him he has the next two hours to get his ass back to the studio or else they were telling the ceo about it. it was tiring. he was debating whether to ignore them or reason it out like the adult he was, because he was feeling annoyed at their lack of understanding and at the same time he just wanted to be mature with them.

both of mark’s options sounded too far out of his reach when the taxi driver suddenly stopped his car and told him they were already at his destination, and he was forced to lock his phone instead, ignoring the constant vibration of the device.

he started shaking as he gave the driver money, and his hands became sweaty when he exited out of the car and slammed the door shut. mark walked over to the café with a heavy heart, his legs wanting nothing more than to retreat to the studio and spare his ego the embarrassment, but he was here now. there was no point in turning back. he’d embarrass himself anyways if he came back to the studio, he could practically hear donghyuck cheekily saying “i told you so” and the small knowing smirk on the younger’s face. mark shuddered at the thought.

as he went through the door of the shop, he instantly got a whiff of the strong coffee they were brewing — their bestseller and the same coffee she used to bring home for mark to drink. the boy only swallowed the fear in his throat and shook the memories off.

he walked up to the counter, legs still shaky as the employee working the cashier looked at him with a bright smile, “um, hi. i’m looking for someone who works here? is—”

“mark?”

mark looked up at the sudden voice, his words cut off halfway. if his heart was already beating fast even before he'd seen her, mark was pretty sure it’d jump right out of his chest as he made eye contact with the woman who got him into this predicament in the first place. he exhaled heavily and bowed his head to the employee behind the cashier, apologizing for the interruption before walking over to her who was standing just by the kitchen door and dressed in the white coat she hated so much. the sight made mark want to go home for some reason.

“what are you doing here?” she laughed nervously as he came closer. “aren’t you busy? i heard you guys are having a comeback?”

mark shook his head, ignoring the urge inside of him to tell her i skipped a recording for you. he knew it wouldn't matter to her anyways. “i’m not busy at all. i just want to talk to you about something. is that okay?”

she nodded yet the look in her eyes clearly said she really didn’t want anything to do with him at all. “sure, do you want to step out for a bit?”

mark only noticed the stares of the customers at the pair of them when she glanced around the room, and he immediately nodded. the last thing he needed was for someone to recognize him and spread rumours (even though he knew that was practically unavoidable at this point—people were already starting to point). she took hold of his hand and led him out of the coffee shop, ignoring the incredulous whispers of everyone.

once they were outside, mark was the first to pull his hand away from her grasp in such a haste. he almost apologized when he saw the brief shock emerge in her face at the brash action, but at this point, he didn’t have time for games anymore — figuratively and quite literally, since he only had an hour left before taeyong and taeil will call the ceo on him.

“so what is it that you want to talk about?”

“i wanted to talk about us,” mark exhaled, finally feeling a weight being lifted off of his shoulders. he saw her face contort a little, obviously displeased at the topic. “i just — you gave your closure. but i didn’t.”

“mark, it’s been months,” she laughed, the sound coming out as breathless. “you still haven’t moved on?”

“how could i do that?” mark started laughing too, albeit humorlessly. he ignored the pang in his chest as he realized that she found the entire situation funny. “everything i see, everyone i talk to. everything reminds me of you. i can’t even do anything right, i can’t even live normally anymore, because i keep thinking, why? why did she break up with me? was i a bad boyfriend?”

“mark— no,” the smile on her face dropped. “you weren’t a bad boyfriend. i just—”

“then why did you tell me i had a change of heart?!” mark was enraged. he didn’t want to be angry. he didn’t mean to raise his voice like that. he didn’t mean to let his tears cascade down his cheeks. he probably looked so pathetic right now, practically seething at the image of himself, tears falling and eyes pleading for an answer, for anything. “i didn’t. i didn’t have a change of heart. if i did then i would have been the one who ended things. if i was such a good boyfriend, then why did you leave me? right when i needed you most?”

mark didn’t even let her open her mouth before he spoke up again, the pain in his voice raw. “i tried so hard. i’ve always tried so hard but you made me feel like i didn’t. i’ve always protected you from everything and everyone. i’ve always defended you. you made me feel like everything i’ve ever done, for myself, for you — they weren’t enough for you. i always thought that maybe i wasn’t good enough to make you stay. i guess i was right, wasn’t i?”

“i was scared,” she answered calmly. “i fell out of love with you and i didn’t want to admit that. it was my fault. all of it. i only said that so i wouldn’t feel terrible about leaving you but i didn’t realize it was too harsh of me to say that right away. i’m sorry, mark, for everything. please stop blaming yourself.”

mark only nodded, wiping at the tears that were on his cheeks and blinking away the ones that threatened to fall. he got what he wanted. he got the truth. he gave his closure. so why did it still hurt? why did it still pain him to see her, looking at him like he was the saddest, most pathetic person to ever exist? the pitiful stare she was giving him made mark feel so sick in the stomach that he had to look away so that the feeling won’t resurface.

“just know,” mark breathed out shakily, fingers trembling and aching to brush the stray hair that fell on her face aside. he bit the inside of his cheek to stop the urge until he tasted blood. “i still love you and i don’t think that will ever change. even if you hurt me. even if you broke my heart so bad to the point that i didn’t know if i’ll be fine by the end of it all. you became a part of my life no matter how bad it got in the end.”

“i love you too, mark,” she smiled warmly and mark knew she was lying straight to his face right now. but he didn’t care. it felt good, strange almost, to hear those words tumble out of her lips again. “i don’t want to leave you like this but i have to go now. i made some plans with a friend. maybe we can hang out together soon? i can call you?”

“it’s okay,” mark shook his head. “i’ll be busy anyways. enjoy your day. thank you for everything.”

he was pretty sure his friends had already deleted her number from his contacts (it was either johnny or donghyuck who did it). after this, he was going to back to the studio and suffer the consequences of his actions, he’d have to put up with the hyung line staring at him with disappointed glints in their eyes during the entirety of the car ride back home and donghyuck bombarding him with questions about what happened once the younger boy has cornered him somewhere in the dorm. but he wasn’t bothered or even annoyed that he’d be experiencing these things soon.

mark was about to turn away and find a taxi when a tall man approached them, his long arms soon snaking around her shoulder and pulling her into an embrace. mark was quite surprised but shook his head — he was going to stop caring about her from now on. whatever business this man had to do with her, he didn’t care.

“who’s this, babe?” the nickname caught mark off guard.

“hyunwoo,” she mumbled under her breath, obviously uncomfortable at the current situation. “this is mark. remember? i told you about him.”

“oh, the idol?” ‘hyunwoo’ turned his head to mark and the shorter boy nodded. “nice to meet you! i heard you’re quite acquainted with my girlfriend here. she told me a lot about you.”

“oh, girlfriend?” mark was surprised at the cool tone of his question. “well, yeah. i used to be quite close with her.”

“we’re not dating or anything,” she tried to laugh off, but the nervous glint in her eyes screamed otherwise. “i’m just friends with hyunwoo. it’s like what it looks like, mark—”

“it’s okay,” mark smiled warmly, looking at her then back at hyunwoo. “i don’t care who you date. it’s not like you owe me an explanation of any sort.”

“i—yeah, of course,” she mumbled to herself, looking down at the ground before looking back up at mark. “it was nice talking to you. we’ll get going now. keep in touch, okay?”

mark nodded and the warm smile on his face didn’t falter even for a second. after the two had walked away, mark stayed in the same spot. he didn’t miss the way the two shared a short kiss before hyunwoo opened the car door for her and helped her inside before hopping in the driver’s seat and driving away. once they were gone, mark’s phone began ringing, calls from taeyong flooding his missed calls.

mark only smiled to himself, pressing the call button on taeyong’s number while his eyes were still fixated on the spot where hyunwoo’s car was previously parked.

i’ll forget about you, someday.

#mark lee #mark lee imagines #mark lee prompt #mark lee angst #nct imagines #nct prompt #nct angst #nct #nct series #( writings )#out of all the parts i think mark's is the least sad #but it's still sad nonetheless

65 notes · View notes

weekendwarriorblog · 3 years

Text

The Weekend Warrior 5/7/21: WRATH OF MAN, HERE TODAY, THE UNTHINKABLE, MONSTER, THE WATER MAN and More

It’s a new month, and I guess going by previous years pre-COVID, this weekend would normally be the start of summer. This year, we’re instead getting a summer with a lot of movies that would normally be dumped into April or February or some other uneventful month. That doesn’t mean that there aren’t or won’t be any good movies, but really, there’s nothing that feels like a summer movie until A Quiet Place Part II and Disney’s Cruella open on Memorial Day weekend.

There’s been lots of great developments, though, including the Alamo Drafthouse in Brooklyn reopening this Friday and then in a few short weeks, theaters may be allowed to be open with no capacity rules although social distancing and masks will probably still be in place. Believe me, it’s been a confusing week as the city that got used to being on the backburner when it comes to reopenings, especially with movie theaters, is now dealing with arguing politicians competing to see who could throw open the then most doors fastest. It’s actually pretty embarrassing.

That aside, this week’s The Weekend Warrior column is brought to you by the new album “Coral Island” from Liverpool band The Coral, which I’ve decided to listen to on loop until I finish this column, because it’s taking me so long to get through it. (Eventually, I switched to Teenage Fanclub’s “Endless Arcade,” since I hadn’t had a chance to listen to it yet…. And to an old standby, Royal Blood, with their own excellent new album, “Typhoons.” At least the record business seems to know it’s the summer!)

Before we get to this week’s new movies, a couple tidbits. First of all, I’m thrilled that my friends Larissa Lam and Baldwin Chiu’s documentary FAR EAST DEEP SOUTH can finally be seen by the entire world, or at least the United States. It debuted on PBS World Channel on Tuesday night as part of the “America ReFramed” series, but for the entire month of May until June 3, you can watch it On Demand HERE, and that is huge! (There will be other ways to see it that you can read about here.)

This is an amazing MUST-SEE doc that looks into the little-known Chinese communities that took root in Mississippi in the early 20th Century and how they became such a huge part of that area with their markets, also bonding with the African-American communities that were similarly dealing with racism from the typically white post-Civil War South. It’s not just a history lesson, and it’s an incredibly moving story about a family trying to find its roots in the most unexpected places. There was a good reason why the couple’s short “Finding Cleveland” won the Oxford Film Festival while I was on the jury that year, and Far East Deep South similarly won an award there last year after its World Premiere at Cinequest was almost scuppered by COVID. It’s amazing how much more relevant and important this film has become since I first saw it last year, since both Asians and African-Americans are dealing with serious racial issues, and this movie shows that more than anything, they should be working to boost each other rather than fighting. Do check it out On Demand this month if you get a chance!

Another musician making movies is Mr. Dave Grohl of the Foo Fighters. I mentioned his documentary WHAT DRIVES US last week, but I actually only got to watch it on Thursday, and like his previous film Studio City and HBO mini-series, Sonic Highways, it’s a fantastic look at the music biz, this time through a variety of artists who began their careers by piling into vans and driving around the country. That is, except Lars Ulrich from Metallica, who mentions that the band was never so small or indie that they didn’t have a bus. But Grohl has used his vast connections to bring in a lot of great musicians including The Edge from U2, Flea from the Red Hot Chili Peppers, and more, making this a very entertaining movie both for fans of the various bands but also live music fans in general. I gotta admit that as much as I loved What Drives Us, it did bring me down a bit since it’s been almost 14 months since I’ve seen any live music, and I really miss it. This is now streaming on The Coda Collection, which you can subscribe to through Amazon Prime Video.

Guy Ritchie is back with his latest movie, WRATH OF MAN (Miramax/MGM), which reunites him with Jason Statham for the first time since 2007’s Revolver, I believe. Statham plays the enigmatic Paul “H” Hill who works at cash truck company Fortico, responsible for moving hundreds of million dollars around Los Angeles each week. Fortico has recently been hit by a lethal robbery, and H’s team soon learn that there’s a lot more to their new coworker, who happens to be looking for revenge against the man who murdered his son.

(Unfortunately, reviews for the movie are embargoed until Thursday at 6pm, so I can’t tell you whether it’s any good or not. Until Thursday night. Sorry!)

But I will talk about the movie’s box office prospects, because why not? Ritchie’s last movie, The Gentlemen, opened in January 2020, during the “before times,” with $10.6 million, but that was more of a classic Ritchie ensemble crime-comedy. Wrath of Man is more of the type of movie Statham has been making over the past few years, a cross between a revenge thriller and a heist flick. In fact, Statham has done a pretty good job creating his own brand through a variety of action-thrillers as well as a number of franchises including “The Transporter” movies, “The Expendables,” and eventually joining the “Fast and the Furious” franchise as Deckard Shaw with Furious 7 in 2017. Statham then went off to make Hobbs and Shaw with Dwayne Johnson, which didn’t do bad with $174 million. Before that, Statham starred in The Meg, a summer shark attack movie that grossed $145 million. Statham going back to help his old mate i.e. the director that gave Statham his start is pretty huge.

But as I said earlier, those were all in the “before times” and with the box office the way it is, it’s hard to imagine that the exciting reunion of Statham and Ritchie can open with more than $10 million but maybe closer to $8 million, because MGM/UA just doesn’t have the marketing clout of a Warner Bros. or Universal. Even so, that should be enough to be #1 this weekend as both Mortal Kombat and Demon Slayer continue to fall away. Unfortunately, if the movie *is* any good -- and I can’t tell you one way or another -- then by the time reviews hit, people will already have other plans for the weekend than to go see the movie. So yeah, that’s pretty dumb on the part of MGM, huh?

UPDATE: MGM is putting the movie into 2,876 theaters and maybe I'm being overly optimistic, because, as you'll read below, the movie IS pretty good and reviews have remained positive with the American reviews rolling in last night, still at 70% Fresh at this writing. Maybe that'll help the movie do a little better, maybe as much as $9 million, although I'll probably owe MGM an apology if it cracks $10 million, and I don't think it will.

Mini-Review: If you’ve seen the trailer for Wrath of Man, you might go into Guy Ritchie’s latest thinking you know what to expect, because it’s sure being sold as another typical Jason Statham revenge thriller. Don’t be fooled by the marketing, the movie really is Ritchie’s chance to make his own version of Heat, an L.A. heist movie that owes as much to Rashomon as another movie being released this week.

Wrath of Man begins with the heist of an armored truck that turns deadly with the wanton murder of a couple guards. From there, you might think we know where things are going when Statham’s “H” company whose truck was hit, and on his first day, he stops a similar heist by killing the truck’s attackers. H is immediately the hero of the company, although he still has quite a few suspicious coworkers and the feeling is quite mutual. Ritchie’s film then slips into the second episodic chapter which goes back five months to that initial heist where we learn that Statham’s son was killed by being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I don’t want to go too much deeper into how the movie and story play out, because like The Gentlemen and some of Ritchie’s more intricate films, there’s a lot that purposefully isn’t made very apparent at the beginning. To many, this movie will be seen as even more macho than most of Ritchie's films, to the point where even the only woman guard, Dana, being just as macho as the men. As the movie begins, there’s a lot of joke-cracking and crotch-grabbing, all while Statham’s character silently observes and only acts when necessary.

The film’s shift to more of a classic Ritchie ensemble does slowly take place, but by the third chapter, it shifts to the group perpetrating the cash truck heists with an “inside person,” taking the movie to yet another place that makes it more obvious that this is Ritchie’s attempt at delving into the L.A. heist genre that other filmmakers have done so well.

Oddly, Statham doesn’t have too many lines, acting almost like a Terminator in his determination to right wrongs, but as always, Ritchie puts together a fantastic ensemble cast including a number of great American character actors who we rarely get to see in such great roles. I was particularly impressed with Jeffrey Donovan, who has appeared in a number of otherwise forgettable crime films this past year. The same can be said for Holt McCallany as H’s truck driver “Bullet,” but Ritchie also cast the likes of Josh Hartnett and Scott Eastwood in smaller yet still significant supporting roles, all of whom become more interesting as you start figuring out who all the players are.

Like I said, the movie is fairly macho and the few women play very small roles, but it’s how things are set-up in the first few acts to then change course and build to an absolutely amazing third act that will undoubtedly bear comparisons to Heat. And yet Wrath of Man (which is actually based on a little-seen French crime-thriller) does branch away from some of Ritchie’s standards, first of all by being far darker and even more violent with any of the wisecracking humor that pervades a lot of Ritchie’s work to counterbalance such violence disappearing once the flashbacks begin. It’s all punctuated by a fantastically tense score by Christopher Benstead, which seems a bit much at first but eventually settles into the perfect pace and tone for the action.

Despite disappearing for a good chunk of the movie, Statham is still great, basically killing everyone as his characters are wont to do, but watching how all of the different ideas come together leads to such a satisfying conclusion that one hopes those who might be put off, thinking they know where it's going due to the somewhat pathetic and obvious marketing will give it a chance to see how Ritchie has changed gears as effortlessly as he did with Aladdin a few years back.

Rating: 7.5/10

After even a longer time since he directed a movie, Billy Crystal once again takes the helm for HERE TODAY (Sony/Stage6), a movie in which he plays comedy writer Charlie Burns, whose chance encounter with Tiffany Haddish’s lounge singer, Emma Payge, leads to an unlikely friendship, as he struggles with early stage dementia.

I’ve known about this movie for over a year now, and I was pretty excited to finally get to see it, since I was such a fan of the other movies Crystal has directed, 1992’s Mr. Saturday Night and 1995’s Forget Paris, and it’s just amazing to me that he hasn’t directed a movie since.

At first, it seems like it’s the type of meet-cute we’ve seen so much in Crystal’s past filmography, but his pairing with Haddish isn’t something that might work on paper, but in fact, their comic styles mesh so perfectly together that it’s amazing that no one thought of putting them together before.

Crystal wrote the film with comic Alan Zweibel, who adapted it from his own short story “The Prize,” which refers to Haddish’s character winning Charlie in an auction for a lunch. Actually, her ex won the lunch, and she decided to use it because… free lunch! It’s a pretty simple set-up but one that allows the filmmakers to explore some of the odder things that happen in life.

Much of the movie’s humor plays upon the differences between the two characters, and how unexpected their friendship is. I can totally relate, because I have a lot of good long-time friends who most people might never expect us to be friends, but Crystal, Zweibel and Haddish pick up on that and create a movie that’s very funny but has enough other characters around the duo toa allow their characters to show how they’re just really nice people. We see that with how Charlie takes a young writer at his late night show under his wing or how Emma livens up the bat mitzvah of Charlie’s granddaughter. Oh yeah, and Haddish sings. She actually has a number of great performances in the movie, and seriously, anyone who watches this movie is gonna wanna see a smart filmmaker put Haddish in a musical immediately.

The film also acts as a truly touching tribute to Crystal’s friend, the late Robin WIlliams, who was diagnosed with the exact same type of dementia after his suicide death, and knowing that fact, makes the film even more poignant. More importantly, it doesn’t use Charlie’s condition for laughs, and for that alone, I feel like this is ten times better than that overrated Oscar winner The Father.

Here Today’s biggest problems come in the third act when it feels like the movie is starting to over-extend its welcome, even going into somewhat expected places, but it recovers from that rough third act to land a really nice ending. Crystal has always proven himself to be a really strong mainstream filmmaker (ala Rob Reiner and others) who makes crowd-pleasing movies, and it’s so nice seeing him going behind the camera for a movie that’s obviously very personal but also highly relatable.

As far as box office, I certainly have high hopes that Crystal still has an older audience of fans who might want to see him on the big screen again. I’m just not sure if this will be in more than 1,000 theaters, and though I’ve seen quite a bit of marketing, I just haven’t seen Crystal or Haddish do nearly as much in terms of getting out there that would be necessary to reach an audience that might want to venture out into movie theaters to see the movie vs. waiting until it’s on cable/streaming. There’s also Tiffany Haddish’ fanbase, and there could be some benefit for the movie coming out the same week as her new CBS show “Kids Say the Darndest Things.”

I’d love to be optimistic with this making $4 to 5 million but it’s probably more likely to be closer to $3 million especially with capacity limits still in place for most theaters and the audience generally being older.

UPDATE: Maybe I was a little too optimistic, because I enjoyed the movie so much and it will probably be closer to $1 or 1.5 million since other reviews aren't as great.

Next, we have two movies finally being released many years after their festival premieres…

The Swedish apocalyptic thriller THE UNTHINKABLE (Magnet), directed by Victor Danell, is finally being released after playing genre fests in 2018 and 2019. It stars Christoffer Nordenrot as Alex, a young piano virtuoso who ran away from home due to his abusive father Bjorn (Jesper Barkselius). Years later, he returns home for his mother’s funeral after she’s killed in a terrorist attack on Sweden. At the same, there’s a virus that’s erasing people’s memories, but Alex is still in love with Anna (Lisa Henni), the girl he had a crush on when he left, and the three of them will have to help each other face all the horrible things hitting their home at the same time.

As I was watching this movie, a lot of it felt eerily familiar to me, but I couldn’t figure out why. The more I watched it, the more I realized that I actually HAD seen the movie before. Sure enough, I saw this movie over two years ago at the “What the Fest?!” in New York two years ago, and I honestly don’t remember loving it. Still, I decided to give it a fresh look, hoping to get more out of it on second viewing.

Some of the same things bothered me on this second viewing, because it’s really hard to figure out exactly what is going on and whether the horrific events are natural, man-made or a combination of both. For some time, we get so mired into Alex’s lame relationship with Anna, and when he returns home, his conspiracy theory-driven father is busy protecting a bunker that’s being invaded by foreign military troops he thinks are Russians. We cut between these two disparate scenarios while sometimes returning to the capital of Sweden and throwing in a few big set pieces. It’s so disjointed that you feel like you’re watching a lot of random unrelated events, maybe a bit like last week’s About Endlessness -- maybe it’s a Swedish thing?

There are aspects of The Unthinkable that are quite commendable, particularly those action moments and how the mystery about what is happening develops as the film goes along. Eventually, the film does find a more consistent pace, and things start becoming a little clearer, which makes the final act better than much of what we’ve watched earlier. Even so, it’s still quite annoying how long it takes to figure out what’s going on, even on a second viewing, and for most people, that may already be far too frustrating to get through it.

Hitting Netflix on Friday over THREE years after it premiered at Sundance is music video director Anthony Mandler’s directorial debut, MONSTER (Netflix), based on the novel by Walter Dean Myers. It stars Kelvin Harrison Jr. (Waves) as Steve Harmon, a 17-year-old film student put in jail, accused of murder in a bodega robbery. His defense lawyer (Jennifer Ehle) is trying to help him be released, but he’s fighting against the odds of a judicial system that sees him as a “monster” because he was in the wrong place at the wrong time.

I have to be honest that I did go to see this at Sundance the week it premiered, and for whatever reason, I just wasn’t feeling it, so I only really caught about twenty minutes of it. Watching it now with more time and a little less weary than I usually am towards the end of Sundance, I was able to appreciate Monster more for what it is. On the surface, it’s just about Steve’s case and how what really happened unfolds before our eyes and we learn more about those around Steve and how their influence may have pulled a smart and studious young man into the criminal world that now has him in prison with much more violent life-long criminals.

We already knew that Harrison was a great actor, but Monster shows us that he was already on his way to greatness with this movie that for whatever reason got buried even as it dealt with issues that have been in the headlines almost every day since this debuted.

Mandler takes an interesting approach, both non-linear and also with blatant nods to Kurosawa’s Rashomon, which is even cited by Steve’s teacher, played by Tim Blake Nelson. Jeffrey Wright and Jennifer Hudson are decent as Steve’s parents, but they’re generally smaller and non-showy roles compared to the moments between Harrison and Ehle. Much of the film takes place in the courtroom with flashbacks showing what happened through the viewpoint of whomever is on the stand, which eventually includes Steve himself.

The way Mandler handles the material may lean more on the artiness rather than something more mainstream -- Michael B. Jordan’s Just Mercy comes to mind -- but it’s just as powerful in showing how someone like Steve can be othered by society into being a criminal. Sure, there have been other handlings of this sort of material that I thought were better films, but if you know anyone who has ever had dealings with the “justice” system and know how unfair and horrible it can be even to the innocent, then Monster will certainly strike a chord.

Also hitting Netflix this week is the new series based on Mark Millar and Frank Quitely‘s comic books, JUPITER’S LEGACY (Netflix), another kind of twist on the superhero genre ala Amazon Prime Video’s series based on Warren Ellis and Darick Robertson’s The Boys. I love the comics, and I can’t wait to finally get around to seeing Netflix’s first adaptation of a Millarworld property.

David Oyelowo makes his directorial debut with THE WATER MAN (RLJEfilms), a movie about a young boy named Gunner Boon (Lonnie Chavis), whose mother (Rosario Dawson) is battling leukemia. In an effort to cure her, Guner goes off on a journey along with a teenage girl named Jo (Amiah Miller) to find the mythical Water Man, who can provide them with a magic token that might save Gunner’s mother’s life.

I’ve interviewed Oyelowo a few times before, and I really like him a lot, so I had really high hopes for him as a director since I feel he’s just a terrific actor. Unfortunately, the material here is just not strong enough that I think even a far more experienced filmmaker could make something out of it.

Set in PIne Hills, we meet Gunner, a bright kid who loves drawing comic books, but he has trouble connecting with his father (Oyelowo), so when he has an idea that might help his sick mother, he goes off with a head-strong teen named Jo, in search of the Water Man, a summertime adventure permeated by a lot of very bad low-budget visual effects.

Honestly, I’m not even sure where to begin with where The Water Man falters, because Oyelowo has such a great cast, including Alfred Molina and Maria Bello in tiny parts. The story is a problem, as is the writing, which is just so bland and dull, that there’s really nothing in Oyelowo’s direction or any of the performances that really can salvage it. Neither of the child actors have much charisma or personality, and even Dawson’s performance, which would normally be a showstopper is repeatedly lessened by the constant cutting back to the kids. (And as someone who beat leukemia myself, I’m never a fan when cancer is depicted in movies as a death sentence rather than just another hurdle in life that needs to be overcome.)

Oyelowo himself may be one of his generation’s best actors, but he brings so little to the role of Gunner’s father, maybe to not take away from his younger star, but it hurts that he doesn’t do more to create a stronger conflict by making the character more horrible to drive Gunner away. The actual Water Man doesn’t improve things when he finally shows up, essentially talking like a pirate but not even remotely paying off.

Honestly, The Water Man seems like such a misguided venture -- Exec. Produced by Oprah, no less -- and it might have been totally forgettable if the characters didn’t keep saying the title of the movie every five minutes.

Hitting theaters Friday after a festival run is Tran Quoc Bao’s action-comedy THE PAPER TIGERS (WELL GO USA), starring ALain Uy, Ron Yuan and Mikel Shannon Jenkins as martial artists once known as “the three tigers but now middle-aged men must set aside old grudges and dad duties to avenge the murder of their teacher. I’ve had a screener of this since last summer when it played at Fantasia Festival in Montreal, and I just never got around to watching it, but if I’m able to squeeze it in before the weekend, check back here for my review.

Streaming on Shudder this Friday is Ryan Kruger's South African comedy-thriller FRIED BARRY (Shudder), starring Gary Green as Barry, a violent street junkie who is abducted by aliens who take over his body in order to… well, actually… they do a lot of drugs, have a lot of sex and other craziness. It’s a pretty strange and bizarre movie that reminds me a little of movies like a lower-fi Under the Skin or Beyond the Black Rainbow, and much of it is driven by the insane and unique performance by Green and the odd characters he encounters that I think will find its fans for sure, but it will definitely be for a very select audience of genre festival fans, as this is by no means a mainstream genre film.

Speaking of which, another movie out this week which I wasn’t allowed to see in advance is Gia Coppola’s MAINSTREAM (IFC Films), starring Maya Hawke as a young woman seeking internet stardom by making YouTube videos with a charismatic stranger, played by Andrew Garfield, until “the dark side of viral celebrity threatens to ruin them both.” Yup, it’s one of THOSE movies. It also stars Nat Wolff, Jason Schwartzman and Johnny Knoxville, but I haven’t heard anything good about it, and I’m not sure my curiosity is piqued enough to spend any of my own personal money to check it out.

Hitting Amazon on Friday is the doc THE BOY FROM MEDELLIN (Amazon) from Matthew Heineman (City of Ghosts, Cartel Land), a portrait of musical superstar J. Balvin, as he prepares for a massive sold-out stadium show in his hometown of Medellin, Colombia, which is hindered by the growing civil unrest in the area.

Lots of other movies this week, but a few that i just wasn’t able to get to this week, including:

ABOVE SUSPICION (Lionsgate) INITIATION (Saban Films) ENFANT TERRIBLE (Dark Star Pictures) QUEEN MARIE (Samuel Goldwyn Films) SILO (Oscilloscope) CITIZEN PENN (Discovery+)

That’s it for this week. Next week, Chris Rock and Samuel L. Jackson star in SPIRAL: FROM THE BOOK OF SAW (Lionsgate) and Angelina Jolie returns for the thriller THOSE WHO WISH ME DEAD (New Line) and Timur Bekmambetov’s thriller, PROFILE (Focus Features). That’s right. This will be the first weekend in over a year where we’ll have three or maybe even four new wide releases.

#TheWeekendWarrior #Movies #Reviews #WrathOfMan #HereToday #Monster #The Unthinkable #TheWaterMan

2 notes · View notes

kenkukodex · 5 years

Text

Slam Poetry

It's been two weeks since the shit hit the fan; two weeks since Dante went missing and your little group of hunters took to the few roads left in Red Grave City. The close quarters have been hard to adjust to for all of you. With so many strong personalities crammed into a single camper, it's hard to find room to breathe.

Solo hunts are, unsurprisingly, a bit of an escape for all of the hunters involved. More often than not, the three of you scatter to the winds and slink back to camper when hunger or exhaustion win out. It's not unlike having a bunch of cats, you suppose. And that would make Nico one crazy cat lady. The thought makes you laugh as you manage to wrap up your work just before dawn.

You're bright enough not to bring up your thoughts when you catch up to the van and settle into the back, across from V. Nero’s is the last pickup point—all of you having vague directions and landmark buildings to aim for—for the night, and you settle in for the drive.

Between the music from the front stereo and the V's quiet page turning, you were just starting to doze off when Nico swears, yanking the camper into a careening sideways skid. It has the lot of you scrambling to grab onto anything stable, pausing as the chassis comes to a wobbling halt. “We've got company,” the lethal artisan hollers back to the pair of you.

As you and V pop your heads up to peer out of the window, you can see the pack of empusa scuttling out of the nearby buildings. They've set up their own little while point, harrying any idiot stupid or desperate enough to brave the roads.

“And their ways are filled with thorns:

It is eternal winter there.”

You resist rolling your eyes as the pair of you hop out of the camper. It's been two weeks of William Blake, and you're starting to wonder if you could find him some new material. You aren't willing to snap at him, despite the repetition. V is the easiest to get along with; he's steady and quiet, and you can't begrudge the summoner a few eccentricities.

Griffon swoops past you, ruffling your hair as you step to the side. It's best to keep the demons as far away from the van as possible, and the pair of you ease forward. As the familiar zips past the head of one if the bugs, his razzing gives you just enough insolation to have you laughing. The sound draw's V's eye in askance, and you just smile, drawing your weapon as you try your best to mimic his gravelly tones and dramatic delivery.

“I will not play at tug o' war.

I'd rather play at hug o' war,

Where everyone hugs

Instead of tugs.”

#dmc #dmcv #dmc5 #dmc5 v #dmc v #dmc nico #dmc fic #dmc fanfiction #v fanfic

5 notes · View notes

hope-for-olicity · 6 years

Text

Fabulous Olicity Fanfic Friday - August 10th, 2018

Happy Friday! So this is my attempt to both thank awesome fanfic writers for their amazing work and offer my recommendations to anyone who is interested. Here are the fantastic fanfic stories I read this week! They are posted in the order I read them.

The Omega Project! multi-chapter complete by @oliversmuse - Oliver Queen was enjoying being the strong Alpha on campus at Harvard when he met and fell in love with Felicity Smoak, a strong Omega who was going to school nearby at MIT. Their time together was amazing until one day she disappeared. There was no note and no trace that she had ever existed. Oliver is now the most powerful Alpha in Star City, and he will move heaven and earth to find out what happened to his Omega. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15330348/chapters/35569281

Even Now by @smoaking-greenarrow - Olicity Hiatus Fic-a-thon - Prompt: Comfort, based on a Dashboard Confessionals song. http://smoaking-greenarrow.tumblr.com/post/162929596194/even-now

We're All Zeros and Ones Beneath Our Skin by @alexiablackbriar13 - Oliver Queen is a top-level CIA agent, with a high affinity for weapons and strategy. He’s just been placed on Operation Overwatch, the most difficult mission of his entire life. Felicity Smoak is a Deviant, a woman with powers who can control tech and electricity. She’s also Number 1 on the CIA’s Most Wanted list and seemingly intent on attacking every government-run scientific facility in the country. She’s his next target. His job is to find her, capture her and bring her in. But as the truth of why exactly Felicity is doing what she’s doing comes to light, and Oliver and Felicity slowly begin to trust each other, everything is about to change. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15550638

Be Intehaan (Limitless) by @crazycrystal10 - Olicity Hiatus Fic-a-thon - Prompt: Comfort - AU In a fight, they are lethal. Around each other, they melt. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11492451/chapters/25779219

B is for Better With You by @smoakmonster - Oliver and Felicity are the last people in the world qualified to offer comfort. Or maybe they are exactly qualified to comfort one another. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11497494

The Queen's Mage multi-chapter WIP by @the-shy-and-anxious-fangirl - Words have power, and mages, those with the aptitude to draw on that power, are few in number. Thus, their services are highly sought after by anyone who has exhausted all mundane means of solving whatever problem is plaguing them. Felicity is reminded of this fact the hard way when she is hired by Moira Queen, the Lady Starling, to find and return to her son Oliver, who fled his family home five years ago following the death of his father. With a threat hanging over her should she return without Robert Queen's heir, Felicity begins her search. When she finds Oliver, and ends up joining his vigilante crusade while she waits for him to decide whether to return home, the last thing she expects to do is fall in love with him. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14617068/chapters/33781269

Time for a Story multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - This fic shows Olicity and their life as a (married) couple with family. Although Olicity (and their kids) are the protagonists, other characters of Arrow and Flash make appearances. YOU NEED THIS STORY IN YOUR LIFE. http://archiveofourown.org/works/3912157/chapters/8757172

Wine and Bubbles by @felicityollies - Prompt: one more time - Oliver and Felicity treat themselves to a quiet night in, featuring wine and bubble baths. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11034534/chapters/25801581

Most Secrets Come with a Price multi-chapter WIP by @diggo26 - Oliver Queen wants to get his life back in order. He seeks out an old friend, Felicity Smoak, believing she is the one person who can help him. With years passed and both having grown, will spending so much time together forever change their relationship? But not all is as it seems. When secrets, the past, family, and life, all start to unravel before him, can Oliver trust anyone? https://archiveofourown.org/works/11055969/chapters/24650409

The Eternal Love multi-chapter WIP by Mellowyellowdiamonds - Forced into a loveless marriage to Al Sah Him by her ageing and clearly looney adopted father Ra's Al Ghul, Felicity Smoak tries her best to plot her way out of this "terrible" marriage in a bid to regain her freedom. Her husband however has other ideas and is determined to foil her plans every step of the way. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15328269/chapters/35564142

Everything Has Changed multi-chapter WIP by @perfectlittlesoul - Teenage pregnancy but Oliver is not the father...sweet http://archiveofourown.org/works/9118960/chapters/21523406

One More Time by @wetsuiton - Prompt: One more time - Oliver makes Felicity pancakes and it brings back some memories https://archiveofourown.org/works/11084547/chapters/25827186

Say a Little Prayer by @felicityollies - During their travels, Oliver discovers a lot about Felicity, including a bedtime tradition. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11510928

Trailers and Tea by @imusuallyobsessed - Felicity is home sick with the flu, and Oliver takes time off to care for her. That does not mean watching the trailer announcing the 13th Doctor twenty-nine times. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11521896

The Paths We Take multi-chapter WIP by griever11 - Rival CEOs AU. Felicity Smoak, CEO and founder of her own company, is trying to prove herself in the cutthroat world of the technology industry among the other bigwigs in the game. Oliver Queen, recently back from the dead is trying to prove to the world that he's no longer the same man-child who went down on the Queen's Gambit and is finally worthy of his family's legacy. Both equally formidable names in the corporate world. And both with a long, complicated history with each other that no one but themselves are privy to. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15314133/chapters/35530296

One Surprise Too Many by @laureningall - Oliver launches his second campaign for Mayor since his interim term is coming to an end. The press knows a better story when it sees it, in the form of a sparkly ring on Felicity Smoak's finger. Oliver is frustrated. Felicity thinks it's funny. All Donna wants to do is throw them another engagement party! https://archiveofourown.org/works/11531292

Dinner with the Chef multi-chapter WIP by @bitchwhwifi - They meet at the grocery store and argue about pasta. http://archiveofourown.org/works/11183121

One More Time by @diggo26 - Post 5x23. Oliver and Felicity share a night alone. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11056575/chapters/25912230

I Do by @perfectlittlesoul - After many failed attempts at a wedding, Oliver and Felicity finally decide to elope to one of their favourite places. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11518767

Quiet Lullaby Story Time by @cruzrogue - One of Oliver's favorite roles is being a father. Dad Oliver's mundane tradition in trying to get his kids to bed and to sleep yet another normal night in the Queen household with storytimes and lullabies. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11549724

The Arrow Protocol by @alexiablackbriar13 - Getting Oliver Queen completely and utterly high on oxycodone so the archer can have surgery on his busted knee is not what radiologist Emma Colburn expects to be doing on her night shift, but here she is. Although his flirting with his wife is pretty adorable. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15579570

Slave Unto the Night multi-chapter WIP by @jedichick04 - A collection of drabbles and ficlets from my Tumblr. Mainly Olicity focused. https://archiveofourown.org/works/3880951/chapters/8675395

A Queen: Shadowed Knights multi-chapter complete by @missyriver - She runs silently. Her bare feet slapping on the ground echoing in the shadows. She avoids the lights, hiding amongst the shadow. She stops behind a garbage dumpster to take in her surroundings, trying to slow down her breathing. She needs to think. She needs to figure out where she is. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11203470/chapters/36182550

Whiskey and Romance multi-chapter WIP by @mindramblingsfics - Felicity Smoak gets the opportunity of a lifetime to compete for the hand of Prince Tommy Merlyn. She is taken from her normal mundane Vegas life and is soon swept up into a lifestyle full of nobles, drama, obligations and chaos. All the while trying to stay afloat, someone else begins to win her heart, Tommy’s best friend, Oliver Queen. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14441952/chapters/33357156

Pieces of Always multi-chapter WIP by @so-caffeinated and @dust2dust34 - Life continues after Forever is Composed of Nows. Ongoing non-linear collection of family moments for the Queens. http://archiveofourown.org/works/8220479/chapters/18840356

10 Rules of Rebounding multi-chapter WIP by @smkkbert - Oliver and Felicity start a sex relationship as rebounds for each other. What’s supposed to be just fun, soon gets complicated when it turns out that their work lives collide, Robert Queen fears their sexual relationship could threaten his company and an ex comes back into the play. https://archiveofourown.org/works/15403404/chapters/35749620

Felicity Smoak and the City of Gold multi-chapter complete by @acheaptrickandacheesyoneline - She didn’t plan on ever having an adventure unless it said ‘turn to page 34 to open the door’, but somewhere between being kissed in the library and running from a one-eyed man with a gun, Felicity was pretty sure adventure had found her whether she wanted it or not. It's like The Mummy, only not really. - AMAZING!!! https://archiveofourown.org/works/11464392/chapters/25703112

The Reason multi-chapter WIP by flipflops - Oliver is an Alpha and Felicity is an Omega....circumstances lead Oliver to find this out and a very bad time or maybe very good time... https://archiveofourown.org/works/15012431

Above All Else multi-chapter WIP by shesimperfect_butshetries - A different take on episode 6x14: Rene shoots but Oliver jumps in front of Felicity. https://archiveofourown.org/works/14101470/chapters/32490537

Oliver the (Divorce) Lawyer multi-chapter WIP @someonesaidcake - Black tie, white shirt, grey suit... when Oliver put them on that chilly December morning, he hadn't planned on meeting her. 'Her' being Felicity Smoak, the sassy dark haired college student and daughter of his (only) client. This should be fun... https://archiveofourown.org/works/14823708/chapters/34304472

Someday by @smoaking-greenarrow - Felicity finds out that she is pregnant after 5x20 bunker sex. https://archiveofourown.org/works/11294574

Re-Airrow: Episode 2x02 by @lostolicityscenes - I loved this whole little scene between Oliver & Felicity (and Diggle). I wish Arrow did more lighter scenes like this. I wrote a little fill-in-the-blanks scene to explain Oliver’s reasoning some more. https://lostolicityscenes.tumblr.com/post/176747703116/re-airrow-episode-2x02-an-i-loved-this-whole

// @emmaamelia95 // @mel-loves-all // @oliverfel4 // @green-arrows-of-karamel // @coal000 // @miriam1779 // @memcjo// @captainolicitysbedroom // @tdgal1 // @spaztronautwriter // @lalawo1// @quiveringbunny // @wrongshipper // @thebookjumper // @vaelisamaza // @myhauntedblacksoul // @lovelycssefan // @laurabelle2930 //

#FabulousOlicityFanficFriday #olicity fanfiction #fic recs

79 notes · View notes

foxsstoriesarchive · 3 years

Text

Nox; Fall In love With Me

Fall In Love With Me; Nox

[TO BE FIXED, Backing up from Facebook since they got rid of the notes feature and I'm trying to back everything up]

“Hello there. I’m Nox Hethaway and lately my mind has been interested by a certain ‘test’ per say, known as the 36 questions to fall in love. The point of this test is to answer gradually more intimate questions about yourself, allowing for another soul to get to know you in a way they might not under certain circumstances. As the hopeless romantic that I am, I decided to participate in the test today in hopes that my answers might give insight as to who I am as a person, to my partners. After all, we’re bound to eachother’s hearts as the people that we are and to lay yourself vulnerable in front of another perhaps is the greatest gift one can give, no? For those who do decide to read this; Thank you. Now, without further ado, let’s begin this quiet journey. I’m going to have all my responses written in italics to make it easier to tell that it’s me who’s answering.”1. Given the choice of anyone in the world, whom would you want as a dinner guest? “This is a bit of a tough one, truthfully. When I first read the question I felt a little stumped and I still do. Most would perhaps guess my ex, but I have to say.. Perhaps the family that took me in before they tragically died in a fire. I think for one day at least, I would like for them to be here simply so I can show to them how far I’ve come. To me, the Hethaways will always be close to my heart, even if not in a physical sense. My mother’s dreamcatcher will always be hung above my bed though, and her lullabies will always linger in my mind. Haha! Sorry, you’ll find that I do tend to ramble a lot, I’m a fair bit of a thinker and it all tends to spill if you allow me to. But I’d love for my family- My first family to join me for dinner. Just one night to make them.. Proud.”2. Would you like to be famous? In what way? “Truth be told, I wouldn’t say that fame is for me. I’m the watchful girl that sees the world around her for what it is and I think I would like to stay that way. Of course running my manor means that some form of word will get around to individuals, yet I’m okay with that. So long as I get to keep providing a safe space for the non-human folk to stay, even if it’s for a week? I kind of like the idea that everyone who feels lost needs a place to stop once in a while, rest their weary head. I guess you could say I’m running a supernatural Bed and Breakfast but rather, free. My manor is open to anyone who wants or needs to stay; And I hope to keep that tradition for years upon years to come. So if that’s a way to get famous in a quiet sort of way, so be it.”3. Before making a telephone call, do you ever rehearse what you are going to say? Why? “Before a telephone call? Well it depends. If it’s an important call that requires formality then yes, I might rehearse what I’m going to say so I don’t make too much of a fool of myself. Some things simply need a formal way of attending to things. However if it’s a call to a friend or someone whom I care for deeply, then I’m less likely to rehearse, yes. When you care for others, you often find that you don’t need to rehearse words as they simply flow from your heart. And we know certain people say you should always listen to your heart, for your body will follow. Heh.”4. What would constitute a “perfect” day for you? “Ah, this is an interesting question though, don’t you think? Everyone has their definition of a perfect day.. I think for me, the fact that I get to be surrounded by my friends always makes for a perfect day. Yet if you want a more specific answer that’s a little more physical, a perfect day starts with hot chocolate for me, an open window in the summer to let fresh morning air in. The warmth of sunshine on my skin as I stretch myself, perhaps follow the Sun Salutation. Breakfast followed by working in my office for a little while; then I like to spend some time outside. Whether in the gardens or perhaps the forest, even a pleasant drive to the town the manor is located somewhat near to, makes for a perfect time to spend free time. Something new to find, something old to appreciate. A smile from someone

who needed their day brightened. A kind gesture to a stranger. A photograph of a beautiful sunset.. Or perhaps some time in front of a fireplace. There are many ways I could describe a perfect day to me, yet to have a little company I find always brightens my day, so long as it’s the right kind of company.” 5. When did you last sing to yourself? To someone else? “We all know I have the guilty pleasure of singing and humming oftentimes, especially with my guitar at hand. The last time was certainly earlier yesterday, I’m kind of a bit of a fan of Ophelia by Lumineers. I’ve also hummed my favourite lullaby while with Snowdrop earlier so I suppose that counts too? Even right now while I might not be singing, I have Wildfire by Seafret playing. It’s suitable; The video that they made for the song is actually based on these questions, too. Just a fun little tidbit.”6. If you were able to live to the age of 90 and retain either the mind or body of a 30-year-old for the last 60 years of your life, which would you want? “Considering I am an immortal being, living up to such an age is more than easy so long as unfortunate events and cold doesn’t catch me offguard. However for the sake of the question, I’ll look at it from a human’s perspective. This question is an interesting one yet again to my immortality, however it has an interesting principle behind it as it is. If I retained my body, I’d be still ageing in mind; Which I suppose is the nearest to my current situations. A young body but constantly learning, constantly exploring the world around me, growing. They say that with age comes wisdom and I suppose one can explain it in such a way? However the idea of having a thirty year old mindset while the body grows old.. Does that mean the mind doesn’t mature? Or does it stay on a specific view of the world? I do not know how it is to be a thirty year old nor how a mind of one works so I can’t really work from experience here.. However in my personal opinion, I think the idea of one’s body not ageing and the mind growing in experience simply seems like the most befitting to me.”7. Do you have a secret hunch about how you will die? “Well, didn’t this turn a corner quickly? While once more I am an immortal being and cannot die from old age, there are possibilities of me passing away from other disasters. I suppose if I was to die, the most likely would be one of my fatal fevers, especially if I come in contact with anything below zero (0) degrees celsius. [Roughly 32 degrees Fahrenheit. Freezing point.] It’s either that, or perhaps I’ve annoyed someone enough to end up in an unfavourable position. Using certain powers without having a source of sexual energy can also end up fairly lethal to me if I keep pushing myself over the limit.. Whatever it might be, I’d like to think I’m going to have a long and fruitful life though,- And if I was to pass on, that it would be honourably done so; Protecting those I care about. My friends, my family, my significant others.”8. Name three things you and your partner appear to have in common. “This one is tricky, especially since this isn’t aimed at a partner specifically. So we’ll change this question for the time being; I’ll name the things I’d like to have common with my partner. Firstly, compassion. Compassion for those around seems to be something I care about greatly and I’d like to be able to share this with a partner; A warm understanding and want to help, care. Secondly, self awareness perhaps? The awareness that our actions affect us, the others- Awareness of who we are, where we belong in the world. Self awareness of what we can and can’t do. There is so much when one tries to pinpoint the words ‘Self-awareness’ and I like that; it means that the viewer can pick what it means to them. Thirdly, I’d like someone on the same wavelength as me. Someone who understands me on a deeper level. Perhaps that’s not so much a ‘trait’ of similarity as just that; having a similar.. Mindset? Maybe that’s a good way of putting it. I want someone who can walk equally with me down a road; As equals

with alike thoughts that can be shared and understood without a worry of a misunderstanding due to different mindsets and views of the world. It’s always saddening to an extend when another simply can’t see what you’re trying to show them. I certainly feel like I could ramble about this further, however I’ll spare you that for now.”9. For what in your life do you feel most grateful? “What I feel most grateful for? I think the fact I was given a second chance to be who I’m today. Or perhaps chances altogether. From when my first family took me in, to my ex reminding me something I should have not forgotten so easily; I feel like the world likes to give chances to those who are willing to make a difference, whether it’s for themselves or for others. I’m grateful I got a chance because it allowed me to be where I am here today, being able to freely talk about my experiences and spill my heart to you. Isn’t that the greatest gift?”10. If you could change anything about the way you were raised, what would it be? “It might feel a little typical to say this, and perhaps some would think I was lying, however I don’t think I would want to change anything about the way I was raised. The past is the past because it allows us to grow, teaches us the lessons we need in order to change our future. Yes, my life wasn’t always bright and dandy but I took those lessons and made something positive out of them. I think that’s what matters really, taking things and trying to make best do with what we have. If I had changed anything, even theoretically.. I don’t know how that would have changed my life. Even the smallest thing can have such an impact on our lives. I do hope that makes sense?”11. Take four minutes and tell your partner your life story in as much detail as possible. “Ah, I didn’t expect this question. Four minutes, huh? Well.. Alright. I was born from the eternal fires of my realm, a rather rare phenomenon that only happens every tens of years. I was abandoned by my kind in the human world after they realised I wasn’t like them, a succubus.- They decided to leave me in a downpour storm that would’ve killed a young baby like me if not for the fact I was taken in by an Elementalist family. Lived with them for five years, however they died in a rather horrible fire- Caused by my own kind. I spent a fair amount of time in care homes, not being able to settle until I was fourteen and ended up being fostered officially by Lucifer Morgen- I befriended his daughter two years prior and we had been inseparable. Add a few whimsical adventures of being thrown into realms without meaning to when I was sixteen and seventeen,- Then at eighteen I met Lucas. He was a huge turning point for me, a demise under an oak tree. Later I started developing my study of photography, earned my living while studying in university.. Owned a studio loft apartment for a while. After graduating from University, my foster father contacted me while asking if I wanted to take over the Morgen Manor. I accepted.. And here we are. All through my collage time I made friends with Charlie and Kassidy, whom I invited to live with me after realising the manor just didn’t feel right without them.. Then soon enough Harper joined and.. That’s my life and my closest friends, all under the roof of my manor. Oh, I also stopped ageing at twenty-one, but that’s a minor detail really. Now you know the fairly short version of my life.”12. If you could wake up tomorrow having gained any one quality or ability, what would it be? “As a serious or non-serious answer? As a non-serious answer, I always wanted wings. However not all Succubi have them, the only certain thing is having a tail with my kind. As a serious answer however, I suppose the ability to use my powers without having to gain sexual energy from a partner just so I could. While these days I’m a lot more comfortable with the idea of it, I still don’t want my partner to feel like I’m using them for their energy just so I can do things I usually hold myself from doing. Of course I don’t feel the need to have to use my

powers, although my younger self often worried about ‘What if I can’t protect the ones I love because I can’t depend on my powers?’ Otherwise, I’m actually really content with what I have.” 13. If a crystal ball could tell you the truth about yourself, your life, the future or anything else, what would you want to know? “Huh.. Anything I’d want to know? I guess I do like the idea of knowing just how many people I was able to help, even with a simple smile and a kind word. Yet at the same time there is a satisfaction of not knowing such information too. The real question is; would I want to find anything out or would I walk past a crystal ball? A part of me likes to believe things happen for a reason so if I came across a crystal ball, surely it had to be for one reason or another and it would be a shame to lose such an opportunity. Yet a part of me feels like I don’t have anything I need to ask; I’m living in the now and not the past or future. I should focus instead on doing a positive impact on my surroundings, focus on keeping improving myself. If.. There was something I truly wanted to ask though, perhaps about myself.. It would be ‘Am I doing enough?’ I think that speaks it all.”14. Is there something that you’ve dreamed of doing for a long time? Why haven’t you done it? “I’ve always dreamt of making a positive difference in the world. my past wasn’t the kindest and I’ve seen a lot of wrong left and right. However I’d like to say that I’ve been doing exactly what I’ve dreamt of doing all along, even if it took me a little time to figure out how to get there. If you had asked me this three years ago, I would’ve probably told you that the one thing I dreamt of doing, was being able to belong. I feel like I belong now though. I’ve found my place; A place where I can give others a place to belong, too. If that’s not an achievement of dreams, I don’t know what is. Perhaps as time goes by I’ll find a new dream to dream about. For now however, I’m happy growing what I have now.”15. What is the greatest accomplishment of your life? “Coming as far as I have, now. I feel like I have two; The obvious one being the manor that I own. Being able to provide a safe place to others, to make connections that might last lifetimes even if people come and go.. That to me is a huge accomplishment. That safety of being table to provide for others what I couldn’t quite have myself at first. The less obvious accomplishment is becoming who I am, now. it was a long journey to grow into the person you may find me now, especially over the last five years. But time and time again proved that if you’re really determined to do something, you will be able to; you just have to keep trying and not give up. I feel like allowing myself to be the kind hearted demon I am now; Or at least I hope to be in other’s eyes.. That’s something to be proud of. In the future and as I get older, I’ll gain more achievements. But I think no matter how old I get, I’ll always be the happiest knowing that I did my best; that I stopped hiding behind a wall of uncertainty and fear. Who I was five years ago isn’t who I am now.. Although that is a part of my journey. I learned, I grew and I now stand before you, hoping that who you see in your eyes is too, something to be proud of.. Perhaps inspiring too.16. What do you value most in a friendship? “This one’s fairly easy, yet it comes in more than one part. Honesty, forgiveness, care, compassion, understanding and communication. I feel like these go for any sort of relation however and are the fundamental bricks to any healthy bond we may hold. These traits will allow for beautiful flowers to bloom from the seeds sown in the beginning of an relationship whether platonic, familiar or romantic.. So long as one keeps such things in mind, I’m sure bonds will shine even in the darkest nights, just like little twinkling stars.”17. What is your most treasured memory? “I have many memories that mean a lot to me. My most treasured memory is a simple one though; Singing my favourite lullaby with my first mother. I.. Was quite the

crybaby you see, constantly getting emotional over everything. However whenever I had my hiccups, my mother used to take me in her hands- Or sometimes rock the cot gently to soothe me while singing the song which was made up of two nursery rhymes. Old British nursery rhymes you can still find called ‘Dandling’ rhymes. Even to this day I sing it, it helps me calm myself and reminds me I’m loved. Sometimes you can catch me humming it to others.. Whether I’m in a good mood or just want to comfort them.”18. What is your most terrible memory? “Most would expect the death of my family which had been a horrific event.. I was young however and didn’t have quite such an understanding of situations which perhaps saved me from suffering their loss so deeply; Although it was still a painful loss that weakens my heart. I’d have to say that the worst memory was losing my first love though, my ex. You could say it was a self sacrifice.. I was eighteen and fell in love with a beautiful gold-winged angel. However he had a curse on him; He wronged and had to make up for his ill actions to get the curse to break. How may you ask the curse was to be broken? I suppose he didn’t know until the moment it did in fact break.. We were under the oak tree of a park we often ventured into, deep into the park where not many would walk through. We got caught up in a moment I suppose, the love between us was clear even back then. I.. Revealed myself for who I was and he accepted me. I remember being so terrified because I had to hide who I was from the whole world. He made me realise that those who really care about you though, won’t judge *what* you are.. But rather *who*. It was a teary moment and we kissed. .. And broke the veto between his kind and mine. I was young and didn’t know those things existed.. As for him.. I- Don’t know if he ever did too. His curse broke; An act of true love. But in turn I also became his demise.. Moments later all that was left of him had been feathers; Golden feathers surrounded me with warmth and love like no other. It was bittersweet, I couldn’t save him, my atlantis. His death.. His goodbye.. He was in my life for a short time but it was powerful enough to change me. I wanted to become better for him; He taught me that those who cared wouldn’t make judgements on anything but who you were as a person, what was in your heart. And that hiding behind those walls I had put up over my childhood was only stopping people from seeing my true self. He told me he loved my smile; Something I barely did back then. I feel like in ways it would be hard to recognise me from back then. I think I still have a class photo somewhere..”19. If you knew that in one year you would die suddenly, would you change anything about the way you are now living? Why? “There’s a certain person I’ve yet to tell I love them. When the time comes I will, however if I knew I’d die in one year.. I think I’d stop waiting for the right moment. I guess it’s a bit of hypocritical; If I know I’m doing this, then I should improve on it. I.. Think I would focus on finding someone to take over the Manor though, someone who could lead it like I want to. Perhaps I’d try stop being so worried about losing everything I have. I’m not sure, truthfully. Perhaps I’ve been so focused on other things that I’m blind to the things I’m lacking. Would I change anything? Maybe. Yet at the same time, I feel like the way I’m living now isn’t too bad. Perhaps I’d spend more time with those who mattered to me. Yes. Maybe I should focus on doing exactly that..”20. What does friendship mean to you? “Well, I’m sure subtle clues have hinted to the fact that friendship does indeed mean a lot to me. The bonds I’ve made with the girls who live with me.. They’re like sisters to me. Friendship is such a valuable and meaningful thing that people have the opportunity to forge, why miss out on it? People require a certain level of interaction and everything begins from friendship. We are pack animals after all and I don’t think we can change that, no matter how much we’d like to deny those

facts. Friendship is a beautiful gift that means you get to share your happiness and burdens together, you allow each-other to balance one another and to cause smiles, laughter. Friendship is beautiful in its own way, something that should be more than okay to seek for in a lifetime.”21. What roles do love and affection play in your life? “I am a hopeless romantic, so I’m sure that explains plenty as it is. I feel like to openly show love and affection to those around you is important though, especially since it;s a way of letting them know you care; whether vocally or physically. We all crave some form of sweetness and I can’t say I don’t myself. I’m a pretty loving individual and I want to show it to those who come into my life.. Especially a significant other. I would also like to say that I do an okay job at that too, although there is always an opportunity to improve. Both have been important in the development of becoming who I am, and in turn I want to share the same love and affection in hopes it helps others too.”22. Alternate sharing something you consider a positive characteristic of your partner. Share a total of five items. “Yet again, this one is a bit tricky as this isn’t aimed at a partner per say. but rather whoever has the pleasant opportunity of coming across this. Perhaps I’ll mention things I usually see as a positive characteristic of another? I have to say that a person’s eyes are always enchanting to me. They are the windows to one’s soul and can tell so much about a person. Their lips; A give away to emotions with the opportunity for such a beautiful smile. Their heart; how they interact with another person and how empathic they can be of another being, the care they’re willing to give. Gestures; physical body language that shows kind deeds and kindness to another being and finally perhaps.. Someone’s words; They hold the power of changing someone’s day and life so when someone knows how to use them correctly, I simply can’t help but smile.”23. How close and warm is your family? Do you feel your childhood was happier than most other people’s? “This comes in a few levels once more.. My first family was incredibly warm and kind, I had many siblings that treated me like I was one of them and not just someone they took in for the sake of it. They were the foundation of morality that I was able to gain the older I got, they were the first ones to show me just how kind people could really be, so long as they wished for it and worked at it. Most of my childhood hardened me for a while though, gave me a tough exterior that could be called cold and snappy. A lot of it wasn’t happy, no. I felt like I would never belong anywhere, I felt like no one would want me, that no matter where I went it would be the same story. In the time I was in care I went from care home to care home; It was the last one I stayed in the longest before my current family took me in. From then on I grew alright but.. Some things were hard to change and I still felt like I didn’t belong which caused a lot of weight. Valentine and Father did their best to make sure I felt like I was a part of them but it was tough, I was the illegitimate princess. I’d like to say we’re really close though and I do visit once in a while, even if I have my own place to take care of now. Valentine has always been a kind sister, even if she doesn’t come off as so to most. Father too is incredibly kind.. People often misunderstand him due to his own past mistakes. But he’s another proof that people can change if they want to. Altogether I feel happy and I feel like I’ve finally made bonds over the years I’ve lived. Sure, it wasn’t always easy but was it worth it? Yes.”24. How do you feel about your relationship with your mother? “I can only refer to my first mother, truthfully. As I wasn’t born by normal means of most demons, I don’t have a genetic mother really.. Just a fire that has burned since before the beginning of the realm I was born in. I’d like to say I had a great relationship with my first mother though, she took me and treated me as one

of her own despite the fact I was a demon and not related to her by blood. She was kind, caring and had such a large heart.. Even if my memory is weak, I still remember the kind deeds she did. They’re the reason I took the surname and carried it with me all my life- And hope to carry it with me for the rest of my life. To me, the definition of my surname is the family I had the privilege of being a part of.”25. Make three true “we” statements each. For instance, “We are both in this room feeling …” “Ah.. I’m not really sure how to answer this one really. I suppose I can start with.. We are both looking at these questions. Because we are. As this is being written, I’m gazing upon the questions I’m writing. Meanwhile as you’re reading, you’re too, looking at these questions. Now comes for more.. Speculating ones. We are both open to one another. I’m open to you as the writer, sharing my thoughts with you, and you’re open to me, allowing yourself to go through the information and giving me a chance to show you what I am about as a person. For that, thank you. Thirdly.. I’d like to say that we’re both connected to one another in some form by now. I’ve made it to answering the twenty-fifth question of this long test of a sort, while you’ve made it to reading this very question, too. You’ve read the ramblings I’ve willingly shared with you in hopes that you’ll understand me a little more.. And I can only hope that you feel some form of a tender connection to me as I feel to you, the one reading this. I know this is only one sided in terms of questions being answered, yet I hope what you’ve read made you think, too. In any case, I’d like to say we’ve both had an effect on one another, no?”26. Complete this sentence: “I wish I had someone with whom I could share …” “I wish I had someone with whom I could share the beauty that is humanity. I know this one might seem a little confusing to most, however when I sit atop rooftops at night and watch little windows light up, people walking by.. Traffic. I find the world to be so beautiful, full of mystery, magic and life. Little universes in every window spinning and creating something bigger. That’s the kind of magic I want to share with another, even if just for a little while.”27. If you were going to become a close friend with your partner, please share what would be important for him or her to know. “I’m not perfect, I’m far from it. And I know that the idea of being near a succubi is scary. However I’d like you to know that I’m trying to be what I hope is a good person. Sometimes I’ll mistakes, sometimes I’ll mess up and sometimes I won’t be perfect. But isn’t that simply what humanity is so perfectly imperfect for? The definition of being human, to make mistakes and learn from them. So long as you’re willing to be patient with me, I’ll do my best to show you that the spark I carry within myself is worth staying by my side.”28. Tell your partner what you like about them; be very honest this time, saying things that you might not say to someone you’ve just met. “Ah, quite a few partner questions. Well.. I like the fact you made it this far and were willing to read all I’ve written just to get to know me more. I like the fact that you’ve decided to hold on and that you had the determination and interest to get this far. But I also like the fact you’re alive. That might not seem like a big deal to many in retrospect, but to me the fact that you’re alive is a beautiful thing that should be treasured. I like the fact you can listen. I like the fact that you have so many possibilities. I like the fact that you are humane. I like the fact that you can learn from mistakes, too. I love the fact you are capable of so much. I know all these might seem a little strange because they might seem like vague answers but.. I like the fact that whoever you might be reading this, you’re here reading each odd compliment I’ve offered you. And I hope you smiled too, because I’m sure it’s a beautiful one.29. Share with your partner an embarrassing moment in your life. “I have a fair amount

of embarrassing moments that mostly were caused by my tail. See before I had a better control of it, it would appear a lot whenever my emotions got out of hand. Which you can imagine was often enough when I was a young and slightly hormonal teenager, not to mention a rebellious child. One time I had to hide in the kitchen cupboard of one of the carehomes I lived in because someone was coming and I frustrated myself enough over a spilled drink that my tail popped up and I tripped over it. The worst part is that while yes, I managed to make my tail disappear, I ended up getting my leg stuck in the plumbing. It was.. Embarrassing to say the least. I got it out safely as you can see, they had to unscrew a few pipes but.. I certainly learned not to climb in cupboards under sinks after that.”30. When did you last cry in front of another person? By yourself? “When I cried last? It must’ve been a week ago or so, things were a bit shaky and I was fairly worried about the on-goings in my current life. I’m never really alone, I have my mun who worries about me, but in a physical sense yes, I was by myself in my office. Sometimes it happens and it can’t be helped, I still cry easily enough although I might come off as a proper and formal female at first. It shows that people have many sides to them.”31. Tell your partner something that you like about them already “I feel like you have a good deal of patience to read all of this, and I feel that's a wonderful thing. I know not many would be willing to give their time to read the musings of another. I truly feel touched.”32. What, if anything, is too serious to be joked about? “I feel like anything that might touch another individual in a negative way. There’s a lot of things in the world that shouldn’t be turned into a joke, especially since you don’t know another person’s past or who’s listening to you talk. As they say; you should treat others how you wish to be treated, even if you don’t think anyone is paying attention to you. You never know who’s ears are tuned into you.”33. If you were to die this evening with no opportunity to communicate with anyone, what would you most regret not having told someone? Why haven’t you told them yet? “Ah.. I.. I think I would regret a few things, honestly. I feel like I’d regret not telling Snowdrop that I do in fact love him, even if it doesn’t feel like the right time to say it yet. Even if someone knows, it’s still important to voice it out, huh? And Killian of course.. I never tell him enough about how proud of him I am. Or how much I really do care about him, even when things are quiet and busy. Or how much I adore my friends, my girls.. And how without them, I don’t think I would’ve been able to make the manor what it is. Being able to tell my mun how much I treasure her and my connection, how glad I am to have found her when I did. Sometimes we regret exactly that.. Not telling those who matter to us the most, that we love them, care about them and want to see them on a daily basis. Perhaps.. Really, maybe I should take this as advice.”34. Your house, containing everything you own, catches fire. After saving your loved ones and pets, you have time to safely make a final dash to save any one item. What would it be? Why? “Oh, this breaks my heart.. There are a few possessions that I have which it would truly hurt to lose, from the dreamcatcher my first mother gave me, to the feather I still hold onto from my ex.. Even the photo I took of a rose in a field of dandelions that holds my famous quote and a special meaning to those who are lucky to hear it from me. .. This really is a hard one, the idea of losing any of these three is.. Painful enough to make me a little teary eyed. All are unique and I know I won’t get my hands on any of them again if they were to perish in a fire. If I had the possibility to save all three, I would. But if not.. I think I would save the dreamcatcher. It’s all I have left of my first family after all and it holds its own little magic to me. I know I’ll always hold dear to the lessons my ex taught me,

and I know that I’ll forever have that quote in my mind. But the dreamcatcher is something I can’t give up.”35. Of all the people in your family, whose death would you find most disturbing? Why? “Truthfully, Valentine. She’s been a dear sister to me and the idea of her not existing pains my heart. She works so hard with our father day by day so one day she can take over what he’s doing.. She’s a great and just person and.. Knowing that the girl who allowed me a new home was gone? That would destroy me in a way. .. Then again I would feel equally pained if I lost any of the three girls I live in. In a way, they are my family too, even if we’re not related by blood. I might not be related by blood, however relations forged by love are the ones that last longer than time itself.”36. Share a personal problem and ask your partner’s advice on how he or she might handle it. Also, ask your partner to reflect back to you how you seem to be feeling about the problem you have chosen. “I’ve been struggling for the longest of time with the worry of feeling that I’m not good enough. That what I’m doing, how I’m living, the relations I hold with others.. That it’s simply not good enough no matter how I try; And in turn I fear that it will be what will cause me to end up alone. I’m not sure how to handle such fears, nor how to turn those thoughts around. I’m used to working by myself hard day by day, that as long as I keep going and handling things by myself, it’ll all be okay. Perhaps to the point where I coop myself up away from others, it seems.. Do you have any advice for me, on what I can do? .. I think it’s the strongest personal problem I have which I’m.. Scared to admit, however if we don’t face those fears, how are we supposed to grow? How do my feelings come across from this answer? I guess I appear to be scared but.. I’d like to know how you see my feelings in this situation.”“Thank you for reading to the end of this. If you want to leave words at the bottom of this, I’d be more than happy to read them. Whether comments about certain questions, or simply interacting with me.. Perhaps questions of your own. It’s all welcome.. And if not, thank you for taking the time out of your schedule to learn something about me and perhaps, even if just a little, fall in love with me.”

0 notes

wineanddinosaur · 3 years

Text

The PakTech Plastic Paradox

Last February, just a month or so before the coronavirus pandemic really got going in earnest, Emma Shea received a package at Zero Gravity Craft Brewery in Burlington, Vt. It was from PakTech, the Eugene, Ore., firm that produces the hard plastic, solid-hued 4- and 6-pack carrier handles with which the brewery packages its canned beers. But it wasn’t the handles themselves — it was a bin for customers to drop off used handles for proper recycling.

“We emailed PakTech and they mailed us a blue collection bin and some educational signage within two weeks,” Shea recalls in an emailed exchange with VinePair.

But when it came time to actually recycle the used high-density polyethylene handles Zero Gravity had collected, Shea and her colleagues encountered what you might call the PakTech paradox. Despite the company’s claims that its popular handles are both made from 100 percent recyclable materials and themselves fully recyclable, actually recycling them is often more complicated than that.

“We don’t have a convenient location that accepts PakTech handles for processing,” says Shea. “Currently, the nearest location is in Massachusetts, and they only accept them by the truckload.”

So what happens to the PakTech handles that make it to your local brewery, but not a reprocessor? Across the country at San Diego’s Thorn Beer Company — which has offered small discounts on beer for returned handles for the past couple of years — Anna Brigham has an answer. “Any toppers that we can’t reuse goes into our [waste management company] recycling dumpster and hopefully will get recycled from there,” she tells VinePair.

“Though there’s no way to know what’s happening to it at that point.”

PakTech’s craft brew debut

It’s flummoxing stuff, particularly for breweries that choose PakTech’s popular handles because of their recyclability (not to mention the nearly 500 nationwide that, like Zero Gravity and Thorn, have opted into the company’s pilot handle collection program, launched in 2018.) But before we get into all that, it’s worth taking a quick step back to parse how PakTech can handles found their way into the beer business in the first place.

Beer has been sold in 6-packs since the late 1930s, but it wasn’t until 1960 that an American manufacturer invented those clear plastic rings to replace heavier, more expensive metal, wood, and cardboard carriers. After a 1961 deal with a little St. Louis brewery you may have heard of called Anheuser-Busch, these things quickly became the U.S. beer business’s industry-standard 6-pack carrying solution. But they also became notorious among environmentalists and conservation groups for their negative impact on wildlife: When they wound up in the ocean, as they often did, they reportedly strangled the occasional turtle. “Six-pack rings were hugely controversial ever since I was a kid,” recalls Anne Johnson, vice president of global corporate sustainability at material recovery consultancy Resource Recycling Systems, in a recent phone interview. “They’re one of those first things that really ended up being a plastic pollution problem.”

So when American craft brewing’s second wave picked up steam in the aughts, the eco-conscious, small-bore producers pushing it forward sought packaging that was both better for the environment and more suited to their smaller budgets and outputs. Enter PakTech, which in 2008, partnered with Maui Brewing to develop QuadPak and 6Pak carriers, early versions of the now-ubiquitous handles craft beer drinkers know today.

“We feel that PakTech has met our needs in an environmentally friendly way that is certain to create a buzz,” Maui Brewing founder Garrett Marrero told Packaging World in November of that year. The article mentioned the carriers’ dust-cover tops and their versatility (workers could snap cans into them by hand, staving off the need for expensive automation equipment until volume demanded it) as key differentiators. “It’s been extremely successful so far. We barely are keeping up with orders,” Marrerro added at the time.

Those early PakTech toppers might have been less lethal for marine life, but they were still being made with “virgin” HDPE, or high density polyethylene — that is, new plastic. As the American drinking public became more concerned about the climate crisis, and more attuned to the role plastic (in both its production and afterlife) plays in hastening environmental apocalypse, PakTech tweaked its offering.

“I believe in 2012, we started converting our handles away from virgin resin and towards PCR,” or post-consumer recycled materials, says Keenan Hoar, PakTech’s territory sales manager for the eastern U.S. and Latin America. The company has come a long way since then, he tells VinePair. “Right now, all of our can handles, every one that we produce, is going to be made of that 100 percent PCR material, so it’s 100 percent recycled to start.” PakTech says this shift helps it avoid most of the energy and emissions that go into virgin plastic, and all of the oil. The material itself mostly comes from recycled milk jugs, though recently, PakTech has also experimented with a “full circle” program to recycle old handles directly into new ones. Across its entire portfolio — i.e., its non-beer products — the firm still has a few holdout customers using virgin resin, Hoar says, but “our goal is 100 percent conversion [to PCR], and we’re almost there.”

According to its website, “almost half” of PakTech’s business today is manufacturing can carriers. The plastic for those carriers mostly comes from recycled milk jugs, Hoar says. And it’s apparently been good for business — though it’s hard to say for sure. The company, which is privately held, declined to disclose sales figures or an estimate of the number of can carriers it sold last year, and Hoar told VinePair that because it sells both directly to breweries and distributors, “the actual number [of craft brewers using PakTech handles] is almost impossible to pin down.” But even as growth has slowed in the maturing American craft brewing landscape, and competitors have introduced their own carriers (some recycled plastic, some not), PakTech has found new customers in canned wine, RTDs, and even the cannabis space. (The company recently introduced the PakLock, a child-resistant cover for canned THC drinks.) After a pandemic year during which at-home drinking was at an all-time high, Hoar tells me the company’s carrier business “is still continuing to grow, and at a very good rate.”

Credit: Paktech

On recycling failures and ‘murph’ misses

But while PakTech’s handles are a popular, cost-effective carrying solution across beverage categories and they create a second-life opportunity for the virgin HDPE #2 material that other companies put into the world, they’re not without downsides.

On the benign end of the spectrum: Rank-and-file drinkers have long complained about the difficulty of breaking beers loose from the plastic toppers. “The cans can be tough to remove from the Pak-Tech when you want to drink one — they’re very secure!” Deschutes’ packaging materials manager Matt Bussmann tells VinePair via email. More troubling: “They are still plastic, which is not as green as other options,” he says.

John Hocevar, the oceans campaign director at Greenpeace USA and the author of a peer-reviewed February 2020 study of plastic recyclability in the U.S., drives this point home: “At the end of the day, if a piece of plastic is floating in the ocean, I don’t really care how much recycled content is in it.”

Whether PakTech’s toppers wind up in the ocean is a function, in part, of whether the American recycling system works as promised. And as you may have heard, it doesn’t really, not these days. It’s a very complicated subject, and there are lots of reasons for its failures, many of which, it won’t shock you to learn, are negative externalities of under-regulated capitalism. But for our purposes, the important takeaway is that when you discard a product — be it a PakTech handle, a water bottle, or an aluminum can — into the recycling, it’s more often than not sent to the landfill anyway.

Recycling rates vary depending on material type, geography, and a bunch of other factors, but in 2018 (the last year for which the Environmental Protection Agency published such figures) the recycling rate for HDPE #2 stood at 8.9 percent — meaning that a little over 90 percent of the type of plastic PakTech uses went unrecycled or uncollected entirely in the U.S. With the advent of China’s National Sword policy in 2018, recycling rates likely got even worse, Hocevar and his colleagues speculate. And the coronavirus pandemic hasn’t helped.

PakTech isn’t responsible for single-handedly fixing the country’s broken recycling system, of course. But its handles don’t exactly make it easier on that system, either. Even if you put your handles into the blue bin in your kitchen, and even if they make it to a material recovery facility — an MRF, or “murph” in the jargon — they may not get properly sorted for reprocessing once they’re there.

“Normally I would say go ahead and put it in your bin, but it looks pretty flat,” says RSS’s Johnson, looking at photos of PakTech handles on the company’s website. “I think that if you put it in your bin, it has a chance of getting through” into a bale of to-be-recycled plastics, known to recycling types as “feedstock.” But because the handles are so slim, they may flow with paper, cardboard, and other two-dimensional items, which creates a potential double-whammy: The plastic doesn’t get recovered, and it may contaminate whatever feedstock with which it’s been improperly sorted.

RRS has not studied PakTech handles specifically, so Johnson emphasizes that this is speculation: “It would need to be tested … I would recommend a material flow test at the given MRF.”

But this is not as straightforward as it may seem. According to Greenpeace’s study, there are 367 MRFs across the United States. Their sorting abilities “vary quite a bit,” says Hocevar, as do the materials they accept. So depending on where you live, even if you religiously put your PakTech handles in that blue household bin, the odds are even slimmer (ahem) that they’ll be reprocessed like more easily scanned, three-dimensional HDPE #2 shapes like bottles and jugs.

“All of the curbside recycling picked up by the city goes to a MRF, so the problem is not that it’s not routed through a MRF,” Sabrina Culyba, editor of Recycle This Pittsburgh, a recycling advocacy group, tells VinePair via email. “But MRFs use sorting equipment and a lot of plastic items won’t make it through the sorting process successfully.” That’s why in Pittsburgh, PakTech handles aren’t currently accepted in curbside recycling at all, she adds.

Credit: Paktech

Closing the loop?

None of this is news to PakTech. “It’s difficult for a lot of facilities to recycle these handles,” says Hoar. “It’s been a pretty big frustration on our end.” Which brings us back to the company’s collection program. In 2018, aiming to sidestep the MRF morass and give more of its handles a better shot at actually being recycled, PakTech piloted its own recycling program, partnering with breweries willing to serve as drop-off points for customers’ used toppers.

“We said ‘screw it, let’s build [a system] on our own dime, and see if this works,’” Hoar says. According to PakTech’s marketing materials, there are around 500 breweries currently involved in the program across the country, with another five to 10 coming aboard each week.

The idea is to create a take-back program for PakTech handles that sidesteps the pitfalls of the American recycling system writ large. It operates on the theory that, if drinkers are willing to sort the toppers themselves at home (which many of them are), then bring their personal PakTech stacks back to dedicated checkpoints, that would allow the material to essentially avoid the recycling system and be delivered straight to a reprocessor. And make no mistake, once it gets there, HDPE #2 is very recyclable, and according to Johnson at RRS, has “huge value to American manufacturing.” Because drinkers have already done the hard work of winnowing paper, adhesive, and other contaminants out of their stacks of handles, they’re prime feedstock that reprocessors will pay for by the pound.

“In the best-case scenario [breweries participating in PakTech’s program] can actually sell it back to that plastic recovery facility,” Hoar says. “Not saying that there’s much profit involved, but enough to cover the costs and maintain a third, fourth life for these handles.”

For the breweries, liquor stores, and supermarkets that want to participate, it works just like Shea at Zero Gravity described. They contact PakTech, the firm ships out a bin and some promotional posters (at no cost to the retailer), and customers drop off their handles for recovery. “The process was very easy,” she says.

Will it solve the PakTech paradox? TBD. “There are incredibly successful take-back programs, but usually it’s in a very controlled loop,” says Johnson. Nespresso’s program, for example, yields a higher recycling rate than the national average (which, according to the EPA, clocked a dismal 23.6 percent for all materials in 2018, the most recent year for which that figure is available), but it’s more expensive to run than a curbside program because customers literally mail spent pods back to the company. Barring mail — which works with the small, aluminum espresso capsules in a way that might not for the larger 4- and 6-pack handles— for a take-back program to really work, it must “have the infrastructure to collect from all the potential places it might go,” said Johnson.

PakTech’s program doesn’t meet that mark yet. As a voluntary effort, the drop-off points aren’t evenly dispersed geographically; they tend to cluster in major cities, and are particularly dense in PakTech’s backyard in the Pacific Northwest. “The whole recycling program, we just kind of started it up and it became a beast of its own, so we really rely on communication with customers who say ‘we don’t have this in our area,’” to establish drop-offs, says Hoar. A VinePair analysis of PakTech’s listings shows 10 states have no drop-off locations, while another seven feature just one or two locations for the entire state. Where the drop-off points don’t exist, Hoar hopes customers will encourage their local breweries to inquire with the company to set them up.

“We want this to succeed, and we don’t just want to ship somebody [a bin] knowing that they can’t recycle” the handles they collect, he says. (Maybe not in all cases, though: “Support from PakTech has been minimal,” Brigham says.)

Where they do exist, PakTech’s recovery bins seem popular. “It’s something our customers seem to appreciate,” says Bryan Grigsby, who handles sales and marketing at Oklahoma City’s Elk Valley Brewing Company, which has been a drop-off location since December 2018. “We use it ourselves on a pretty regular basis, as I’m breaking apart 6-packs or making sample packs for an account or something.” (Many breweries and bottle shops repack 4- and 6-packs by hand with recollected handles.) Hoar warns that used handles could cause trouble if fed through automated applicators, but affirms that as long as a handle “looks good,” this type of direct reuse is a viable path. And the handles are sturdy: At East Brother Beer Co. in Richmond, Calif., cofounder Rob Lightner estimates only about 10 percent of the PakTech carriers they take in are broken beyond reuse.

Low-volume hand-packing aside, dropping your handles off at a collection bin may not secure them safe passage to a new life.

In an ideal world, participating breweries return the PakTech feedstock they’ve collected directly to reprocessors. Sometimes, those firms will take delivery of small, inconsistent loads: For example, Deschutes’ Bend, Ore., location sends the handles it recovers to The Broomsmen, a local recycling organization that accepts PakTech drop-offs from individuals, small businesses, and breweries alike. In other markets, those businesses require minimums too high for individual breweries to meet — “by the truckload,” as Shea discovered. (In other markets, Hoar says, neighboring breweries have successfully teamed up to consolidate collections and meet minimums together, something Shea hopes to explore.)

If brewers can’t find a reprocessor to take the handles, or don’t have the space or nearby brewery partners to consolidate collections to meet minimums, then what? Oklahoma City has no commercial recycling program, Grigsby tells me, so when the bin is full, Elk Valley employees bring the recollected toppers home to recycle curbside. If the MRF they wind up at can handle the handles, they’ll be recycled. If not, well, you know the deal. Routing them through the curbside program puts the handles in the same jeopardy as Brigham’s at Thorn, thousands of miles away.

It’s these kinds of inconsistencies, coupled with the fact that much more beer is sold off-premise than through taprooms (particularly in 2020), that drive skepticism of the program’s efficacy for Greenpeace’s Hocevar. “It feels like ‘yes, but,’” he says. “Since so many [6-packs with PakTech handles] are sold in supermarkets, it seems that it’s going to be a really small portion” of customers that actually knows about, much less follows through on, the collection program. As it stands, he continues, “PakTech is producing a huge number of single-use throwaway plastic items that are going to end up in landfills, incinerators, and the environment. We need to be able to do better than that, at this point.”

His suggestion? Calling on your favorite local breweries and asking them to consider other packaging options that don’t involve any plastic, recycled or otherwise. (There are a few, though none nearly as ubiquitous as PakTech, let alone cardboard cartons or old-school plastic rings.) But you may not want to do that, given the costs and logistical challenges associated, not to mention the fact that craft breweries got walloped during the pandemic and are currently in recovery mode, anyway. And depending on your philosophy about recycling — is it a good system worth fixing, or an inherently flawed one designed to provide cover for planet-killing pollution? — you may see PakTech as part of a sustainable solution rather than the plastic problem.

That’s very much how PakTech sees itself. In response to Hocevar’s criticism, the company issued VinePair a written statement from its sustainability officer, Gary Panknin, disputing the notion that the company was profiting off throwaway plastic. ”By utilizing our products it is contributing to keeping plastics out of the environment. In fact, PakTech has currently kept the equivalent of over half a billion milk jugs from being displaced into the environment and eliminated the depletion of resources needed to make new plastic material,” he said. “PakTech handles are not single-use throw away items.”

They certainly shouldn’t be, given HDPE #2’s recyclability. And it must be emphasized again that PakTech is neither responsible for fixing all of recycling’s woes, nor the only company trying to develop a market — in the beer space and beyond — for recycled plastics. But the next time you see a stack of the company’s popular handles, remember: All that plastic has gotta go somewhere, and just because it can be recycled doesn’t automatically mean it will be. “Ideally, we’ll be able to work together as a brewing community, and find a solution that is both environmentally conscious and logistically doable for most,” says Shea at Zero Gravity. For the craft brewing industry, whether such a solution includes PakTech’s recycled plastic handles long-term remains to be seen.

The article The PakTech Plastic Paradox appeared first on VinePair.

source https://vinepair.com/articles/paktech-plastic-paradox/

0 notes