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bts-bay-bee · 4 years

Text

blue

↳ pairing: park jimin x reader

↳ genre: smut, fluff, a tiny bit of angst if you squint

↳ summary: teaching your cold boss to love might just be the hardest thing you’ve ever done.

↳ warnings: CEO!jimin, cold!jimin, dom!jimin, assistant!reader, cursing, male masturbation, fantasizing (?), vaginal fingering, oral (male and female receiving), cum eating, marking, daddy kink, pussy slapping, praise kink (kinda?), choking, handcuffs, nipple clamps, clit massager, multiple orgasms, creampie, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it), degradation (slight)

↳ word count: 13 066

↳ meaning of blue: heaven. authority. cold. wet. slow. depression. trust. intelligence.

“Is he here yet?” You asked, out of breath as you ran to your desk at work. The office secretary shook her head, no, making you sigh out in relief. You had been massively late for work which ended up with you running up the many flights of stairs – in heels – deeming the elevator too slow to get you to your office.

You flashed the office secretary a huge smile, hoping that would further prod her to cover up for your tardiness, before walking over to your office, which was conveniently located right next to your boss’s much larger, much sleeker office.

Park Jimin had been your boss for the better part of five years now. You had undertaken the job when you had finished high school, looking for anything and everything to bring any amount of money into your bank account. University tuition fee statements were your personal version of hell; the obscenely large number crushed any of the dreams you once had. But then came along Mr Park.

When he had seen your curriculum vitae, he had immediately been intrigued. Back then he wasn’t CEO of the company, but he had started to quickly move up the proverbial ranks, which allowed him to finally acquire a personal assistant to handle the lesser tasks. A high school graduate – with straight A’s in every subject – hadn’t chosen to go to college? That’s what had made him so intrigued with you. In a few short hours after he had first reviewed your resume, you had gone through a short telephonic interview then you had been asked to come in for a trial period. One which you had passed with flying colours.

Jimin couldn’t help himself but ask about your lack of tertiary education. With a flushed face and shaking hands, you embarrassedly told him about your lack of funds. It was only embarrassing because here you were talking about your financial issues to a man who had a year’s worth of tuition on his wrist in the form of a shiny gold Rolex. Another year’s worth of tuition was probably wrapped around his ring finger, because of course no man as rich, successful and not to mention handsome wouldn’t have a wedding ring on.

Jimin’s wife, Irene – who you had only met a handful of times – was the complete opposite of the warm, caring man. She was cold and distant, even towards her husband, who was supposedly her high school sweetheart. How they managed to stay together for so long boggled your mind. Slowly, you started to see Jimin change. His once fond smile slowly disappeared, now being replaced by a cold, grim straight line. He stopped caring about the people he worked with. He even began to sneer at lesser workers, not bothering to greet the janitors or the office secretary.

Sitting at your shiny, mahogany desk you began to review emails for Jimin, sifting through the numerous subject lines and forwarding the emails to him so that he could take care of them. At around 10am you left your desk, realising that you had to make Jimin coffee. After adding the espresso shot and steamed milk into the coffee mug, you walked to the large door of Jimin’s office, knocking three times before waiting for a response.

“Enter.” His voice was clipped, meaning he was already in a foul mood.

You quietly pushed down the door handle and entered, your eyes trained on the floor as you made your way to his desk. Without speaking you placed the steaming cup of coffee in front of him, then began to make your way back to your office. Jimin hadn’t taken his eyes off of his large LCD screen, not paying you any attention. However, before you could take a step away from him, his cold, hard voice reached your ears.

“Take a seat, Miss L/N.”

Oh, you were screwed. There was no two ways about it.

“Yes, Sir.”

He never told you to sit after bringing him his coffee. Taking a deep breath, you turned back to face him and took a seat on the edge of the plush chairs. Jimin’s cold eyes still trailed over his monitor, making you squirm slightly from awkwardness. What did he want? He hadn’t asked you to sit with him since… Well, since before he was married. This just wasn’t something you did anymore.

After what seemed like hours, he lifted his eyes from the harshly lit screen, bring his eyes to your own. Flushing a light shade of pink, you cleared your throat and looked down again. You didn’t want to disrespect him by staring right back at him.

“Where’s your coffee?” He quietly asked, picking up his mug.

“I, uh… I didn’t make myself any, Sir.” You replied, eyes trained on your twiddling thumbs. He sighed, rolling his chair back slightly so that he was more comfortable.

“Don’t you want to go make yourself a cup? I need to speak to you about something.” Jimin said, loosening the tie he had dawned today slightly. You were frozen in the leather chair – had you done something wrong? Was he going to fire you? He noticed you hadn’t moved, which caused him to frown. “Is the idea of drinking coffee with me really that appalling, Y/N?”

“No! I just…” You began, wringing your hands nervously, your eyes still not leaving them. “Are you going to fire me?”

Jimin looked at you, stunned. “Why would think that?”

“Well… I was a little late for work today, and you asked me to sit down. You don’t ask me to sit down and have coffee with you, Sir. It was almost as if you were going to give me bad news.”

“I used to always ask you to have coffee with me, Y/N.” He replied, frowning slightly. He knew that you used to have coffee with him on a daily basis, usually to discuss the work for the day, but coffee, nonetheless. He also knew that at one point you used to meet his eyes when you spoke to him. When did that change? “Why aren’t you looking at me?”

“What did you want to talk to me about?” You asked, avoiding his question that you had no nice answer to. Did he really want to hear that his wife berated you repeatedly for working with him so closely? For looking at him when he spoke to you, and vice versa?

Jimin eyed you warily. “Are you sure you don’t want coffee?” You nodded wordlessly, only making him deepen his frown. Nevertheless, he ploughed on, settling on the fact that this was now what your relationship had been reduced to. “I have a promotion of sorts for you. Well, in actual fact, it’s just a favour for me. A rather large favour.”

“Sir?” You prodded, urging him to speak when he had stopped. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes out of sheer tiredness. He had been awake all night, thinking about how to ask you this.

“As you know, Irene and I have been separated for some time now.” He began, making you reel with shock. When did they split up?! And why did he think that you knew about it? “We recently decided to finalise it and get a divorce. She left last week. She left Ezra with me.”

Ezra is Jimin’s five-year-old son. Despite his mother being an absolute witch and his father turning colder with each passing day, he was still a respectful boy. Like Irene, you hadn’t really seen him that many times.

“I’m… I’m sorry.” You softly replied, not knowing what else to say. Where was this going? “I didn’t know this had been happening, Sir.”

Jimin shrugged, not really worried about the fact that he was divorced. That’s not what had been bothering him. “It’s not a big deal. It’s not like we were ever actually in love. Anyway, Irene isn’t what I need to speak to you about. It’s Ezra.”

“I’m sure this has been very taxing on him too.” Your voice was barely above a whisper. You still didn’t know where this was going, and it was driving you crazy.

“He’s too young to really understand what’s been happening.” He replied, his jaw clenched, angry at himself for not being able to articulate why he so desperately needed your help.

“I, um… I’m not really the domestic type. I don’t know how to cook. I don’t know how to take care of a child. I’ve been dropping Ezra off at my parents every day since Irene left, but I don’t want him to grow up spending most of his day at someone else’s house. He should be at his home. And, I know, I can hire someone to babysit him, but he’s still so young to be left with strangers, and I don’t want to put his life in unnecessary danger. I mean, you never know what these people could be behind a façade –”

“Sir, where do I fit in?” You asked, amused at his rambling. This isn’t the cold CEO that you became used of. This was the old Jimin, the Jimin that had actually been interested about his employees, regardless of the amount on their pay cheque.

He cleared his throat, a slight blush on his cheeks. “I know that you’re not under any obligation to help me, but I trust you more than anyone else in my life, Y/N. I need… I need someone to help me with Ezra. Not just with Ezra, but with the whole domestic thing.”

“Mr Park, I still don’t know where I fit in.” You said soothingly, getting somewhat of an idea of what he was asking you.

He ran his hand though his styled blonde hair in exasperation. Why couldn’t he just say what he needed from you? “Move in with me.” Shit. That’s not how he had meant to phrase it.

You choked on nothing; the way he had blurted it out had surprised you, which ended up with you looking up at him with watery eyes from a lack of oxygen. He immediately jumped out of his chair and rushed over to you, lightly tapping your back until you could breathe easily again. Having him this close to you made you even more nervous than you already were. After your choking ordeal was over, he surprised you by taking a seat next to you instead of going to the other side of the desk. His cologne wafted over you, dosing you in his masculine scent. It honestly made you more nervous that you already were.

“Move in with you?” You repeated, in a small voice. Jimin looked mortified at your reaction, mentally bashing himself for even thinking of asking you this. But he was already in too deep to change the narrative.

You swallowed the lump in your throat. Obviously, you wanted to help him – you want to help everyone around you. It was just who you were as a person. But how would it look? The world you lived in was a rather nasty, judgemental one.

“Sir… Forgive me for speaking out of turn, but what would people think? You barely finalised your divorce and you already have another woman moving in?”

“Just temporarily.” He weakly replied, embarrassment showing on his cheeks. “Of course, I know that this is such a huge favour to ask, I know it’s odd, but I wouldn’t be asking this of you if I wasn’t completely out of options.”

You bit your lower lip, then sighed. Curse your soft heart. Running a hand through your hair, you nodded to him. “We have a lot more to discuss, but when can I move in?”

***

“This is the living room… This is the kitchen… Your bedroom is upstairs, next to mine.” Jimin timidly said, scratching the back of his reddened neck. This nervous side of Jimin was quite new, and you’d be lying if you said that it didn’t make you amused. Ever since you drove into the driveway five minutes ago, he had been stumbling over his words, tripping over nothing and wringing his hands.

“Sir, are you okay?” You asked before you could stop yourself. He caught your eye, opening his mouth to brush you off, but was left speechless when you didn’t shy away from his gaze. His mouth curved into a soft smile, realising that it was just you. There was no reason to be a nervous, rambling mess.

“I’m fine, Y/N.” He murmured, seeing the way your eyes danced with amusement. Who would’ve thought that the cold, cutthroat CEO would be rendered speechless from having his personal assistant in his home? “I’ve been thinking… I mean, you are essentially going to be living here for a while. I don’t want you to feel as if you’re forced to maintain a professional persona the entire time. Call me Jimin.”

“Okay, Si – Jimin.” You replied, quickly catching yourself. The feel of his name on your tongue foreign yet… Right. Jimin smiled at you, his nervousness of having you in his house now forgotten. Who would’ve thought that all it took to get rid of them was just one look into your eyes? But now his stomach was twisting for a different reason. Why did it flip when you said his name?

“Where’s Ezra?” Your question hung in the air as he abandoned any thought about the butterflies wreaking havoc in the pit of his tummy. Almost as if saying his name summoned him, the boy suddenly appeared to walk down the stairs. His dark hair was greatly contrasted by his honeyed skin; his cheeks so full that they gently shook with every step he took. Ezra was truly the miniature version of Jimin.

He bowed to his father almost a little too fast, making you raise your eyebrow. Upon setting his eyes on his son, Jimin stood up even straighter than he already was and lifted his chin, regarding Ezra with cold eyes.

“This is Y/N.” Jimin told the young boy, his jaw clenched. Jimin almost seemed angry at Ezra. “She’s going to be helping us while your mother is away.”

***

“Good morning, Ezra.” You sang softly as you slowly opened the curtains in his bedroom. You saw his eyes peak up at you through the covers of his grey blanket, then abruptly squint when the sun’s rays hit them. “Did you sleep well?”

“Hmm.” He mumbled, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. The long sleeves of his blue pyjamas flopped over the tips of his fingers, only increasing the cuteness currently assaulting your eyes. You smiled at him, hoping that today was the day that he completely opened up to you – having already been here for two weeks surely must’ve made him somewhat comfortable with you, right?

“How about after you get bathed and changed, we have pancakes for breakfast?” You suggested as you ran your hands through his messy bedhead, smoothing the black tufts of hair. Ezra said nothing, instead he nodded at you, sleep still quite evident in his eyes.

After tidying up Ezra’s room, you walked into the kitchen with the intent of making some coffee for Jimin and yourself. As you put a couple scoops of ground coffee beans in the machine, you began prepping the ingredients for breakfast. If you worked fast enough, Jimin might be able to eat before he goes to the office. Humming as you gracefully moved throughout the kitchen, you quickly lost track of time.

“Are you… Making pancakes?” Jimin incredulously asked, eyes sweeping over the stack of pancakes that he found next to you on the counter. You hummed, flashing him a small smile, before going back to flipping the golden pancakes in front of you.

This was the first time that he had seen you in your natural state – usually you were already showered and changed before he even woke up, but today you just didn’t feel like keeping up the pretence. You were basically going to be living here for a couple more weeks – you didn’t feel like faking how organised you were as soon as you woke up. Even though you did feel kind of insecure and quite frankly embarrassed about the way you were dressed at the moment, Jimin felt totally different. Of course, he knew that you were gorgeous, but with your hair pulled in a messy bun and your thighs on display thanks to your sleeping shorts, Jimin just couldn’t help but stare at you.

His eyes studied the exposed flesh of your legs, unknowingly biting his plump lip when you turned around to get something from the cupboard behind you. Jimin only tore his eyes away from your unmarred skin when Ezra climbed onto the stool next to him.

You smiled at Ezra as you placed a stack of pancakes in front of him, the breath-taking curve of your pink lips were enough to make Jimin reciprocate the action, even though it wasn’t even being directed at him. When did he become to enamoured with you? Was it when you agreed to help him in his desperate time of need, or long before that? He couldn’t help but think that you were somewhat like a guardian angel – his own, personal angel, who makes his day a little brighter.

“Jimin? Jimin? Jimin!” You called, trying to capture his attention. He had spaced out, not realising that both you and Ezra had been attempting to talk to him. You nudged his shoulder gently, causing him to finally get out of his daydream and look at you confused. “We’ve been trying to speak to you. You kind of entered your own world there.” You explained to him, unable to prevent the tiny laughter from leaving your mouth.

Ezra had long since given up trying to talk to his father; any five year old child would want their father’s attention, but Ezra (even at his tender age) knew that his relationship with Jimin was somewhat strained; his father had already been corrupted by the cold CEO attitude to ever give him any attention. This was why Ezra was already almost done with his stack of pancakes – he didn’t want to spend any more time with Jimin than needed. Well, he knew that Jimin didn’t want to spend any more time with him than needed.

“I’m sorry, I was… Thinking.” Jimin apologised sheepishly, making Ezra confused. For as long as he had been alive, he hadn’t heard his father utter an apology. Not even to his mother. But Ezra was already confused – not once had his mother ever made him breakfast, let alone eat breakfast together. Was this what a normal family did every day? “What were you saying, Y/N?”

“I was wondering if it would be okay for me to take Ezra to the craft store today.” You repeated, nervously. “Ezra likes to draw and paint, and so do I, so I wanted to get us some more supplies –” Jimin didn’t even wait for you to finish before sliding his credit card over to you, making you look at him confused. “I wasn’t hinting for money, Sir, I just wanted to take Ezra with me.”

“I know, but please take it.” He murmured, dropping his gaze to the delectable stack of food in front of him. “And what did we talk about, Y/N? Stop calling me Sir. I’m not your boss here. Think of this as your home.”

“It’s just a habit…” You awkwardly explained, trying not to make too much a fool of yourself, as Ezra hopped down the chair and went to wash his hands. “It feels disrespectful to call you anything other than Sir.”

“I remember that you used to call me Chim before.” He muttered, thinking back to when you had first started at the company. You had been so playful with him, something that he misses dearly. His admission made you blush a deep scarlet. How did he even remember something as trivial as a stupid nickname?

As you opened your mouth to respond, you heard Ezra struggling to reach the faucet in the basin. Before you could turn to help him, he frantically hit the tap falling to the floor, subsequently turning the water on to a very high pressure. You suddenly felt water spray everywhere, falling all over the granite top, the floor, as well as you and Ezra.

You quickly shut the tap off, ignoring the water dripping down your face and checked to see if Ezra was fine.

“Are you okay, baby?” You murmured, wiping the water off of his face as his eyes filled with tears. “Did you get hurt?”

“Why didn’t you ask one of us for help?” Jimin asked in a firm voice, anger obviously showing on his face and in his voice. “Now look at what you’ve done!”

Ezra doesn’t respond to either of you. Instead, he took one look at Jimin’s face and ran out the kitchen, tears streaming down his face. You stood up and looked at Jimin in disbelief.

“It was just a mistake, Jimin. There was no need for you to speak to him like that.” You said stiffly, trying not to let your irritation shine through. You turned away from him, quickly cleaning up the water before ignoring Jimin’s silence and walking up the stairs into Ezra’s room.

Jimin really didn’t mean to do what he did. It came from years and years of being forced to be strict and abrupt with his employees. He meant to tell you that – he really did. But when you angrily snapped at him with a soaking wet, white shirt, he lost all train of thought. The water had turned the material see-through, showing off your plump tits, even flaunting the darker ring of your nipple. He was so lucky you were not there to see him frozen, mind unable to function from seeing your breasts.

‘Stop acting like some fucking schoolboy,’ he chided himself as he fixed his semi-hard length through his slacks, ‘you got hard after seeing her tits, for God’s sake. Pull yourself together.’

After checking the coast to make sure it was clear, he all but ran back into his room, hoping to hide his slightly stiffened member from you. As Jimin walked past Ezra’s room, he heard you soothingly reassuring the child that he hadn’t meant to shout at him. Hearing the way you had to quieten Ezra made his heart clench – you barely knew his son, yet you were comforting him after one of Jimin’s many outbursts. Of course Jimin didn’t want to compare you and Irene, the two relationships you shared with Jimin and Ezra were completely different, but she never cared for Ezra the way you do. She never bothered to notice that Ezra had been interested in art; hell, even he hadn’t noticed that.

Thoughts of how loving you are, how much you cared about people, filled his head for the rest of the day. His employees and business partners must’ve thought he had completely lost his mind: Jimin’s face had this faraway look the entire day, only changing when his mind decided to remind him just how delectable you looked this morning.

Jimin had been so out of it, so infatuated by you, he decided that there was no use being at work anymore. He wasn’t getting anything done anyway so that’s how he found himself driving back home early, subconsciously wanting to be back in your presence immediately.

“Y/N?” He called as he walked through the front door, loosening his tie. Not hearing your voice in response made him frown; you were usually waiting in the living room to greet him, with a steaming cup of coffee in hand and a bright, dazzling smile on your lips. He could care less about the coffee if he’s being honest. “Y/N, where are you?”

Silence once again met his ears causing him to frown deeper. Worry suddenly filled his every orifice. Immediately fishing his phone out of his pocket, his fingers almost went on autopilot, dialling your number before pressing the phone to his ear. His heart pounded in his chest when you didn’t pick up by the second ring. Where had you gone?

“Hello?”

“Y/N? Are you okay?! Where are you?” Jimin said loudly, almost yelling. His tone made you confused; you had told him that you were taking Ezra out today. Why was he so frantic?

“I’m fine, Jimin. Ezra and I just picked up some stuff from the store. Why are you asking?”

“I thought…” He couldn’t even finish the rest of his sentence because he didn’t know what he had thought. He cleared his throat, trying to clear your mind. “Never mind. Are you on your way back?”

After you reassured Jimin that you were indeed coming back soon, he let out a sigh of relief and ended the call. He didn’t know why, but not coming home to you felt… Wrong. You had only been here for two weeks, yet he can’t imagine living in this house without you; he sure as hell couldn’t figure out how he lived here with the emotionless statue that was Irene.

Jimin walked past into the kitchen with the intention of getting himself a snack but his eyes drifted to the sink, his mind betraying him by vividly reminding him of the way you looked this morning. God, the way your shirt had stuck to you, tempting him with the subtle curve of your waist, your voluptuous tits… Not to mention the way you had looked at him sternly. Everything about you made his head spin. Everything about you seemingly sent a rush of blood down to his cock.

Biting his lip, his mind veered into uncharted territory by imagining just how good you looked without the dripping wet shirt. He imagined kissing down your body, marking you as his, and his alone, then spreading your legs, suckling on your needy clit…

Before he knew it, Jimin was rock hard in his slacks from the mere thought of you for the second time today. He groaned when he felt his stiffness, irritated with himself because now he knew he had to get himself off, and he hated it. Jimin had only his hand to keep him company for the better part of two years now – himself and Irene hadn’t engaging in sexual activity whilst separated, despite living in the same house, and he couldn’t bring himself to bed anyone else whilst still legally married. Other than that, he found it humiliating to buy a sex toy in person, or even online – his company’s IT people could probably see his search history if they tried hard enough.

Jimin sighed, knowing that his erection was solely his fault. He trudged up the stairs, situating himself in his en-suite bathroom, before turning the shower on. He hated jacking off, but he might as well make the clean-up easy. Stripping out of his work clothes he quickly hopped into the shower, trying to ignore the almost painful stiffness protruding from his body.

Leaning his back and head against the tiled wall behind him, he allowed the water to cascade over him, relishing in the steaming hot water that soothed him. Jimin tried to not touch his boner for as long as he could but five minutes into the shower, he just couldn’t stop himself from gently stroking himself. He grabbed his shower gel, foaming up his hands so that it would be easier to jack himself off.

“Oh, fuck!” He groaned, taking his curved length into his slippery palm, moving back and forth on the sensitive flesh. Continuing the motion, he applied more pressure around his cock, relishing in the feeling of getting himself off. But he so wished it were you.

He wished it were your wet pussy squeezing and clenching around his dick, gripping him like a vice. He wished he could wrap your legs around his waist and pound into you, pulling on your hair and sucking on your neck, leaving deep purple marks so that everyone knew you were his. He wished he could paint the inside of your dripping cunt with his cum, making you hold it in and walk around the office with no panties, seeing evidence of his climax slowly drip down your legs.

“God, Y/N…” Jimin whined, his usually steely voice reduced to a pitched, needy moan. He wanted you so fucking badly, and he was so fucking close. His hand moved with a mind of its own – it doubled its speed, exerting itself to relieve Jimin. Throaty groans left his plump lips, bouncing off of the tiles and echoing throughout the bathroom. “Fuck, fuck, fuck!”

Somehow squeezing tighter around his pulsating cock, he got more frantic. Jimin began bucking into his fist, ignoring how his wet hair stuck to his forehead. After a few more seconds of fucking into his hand, he let out a growl, his cum squirting up and landing on his toned stomach. “Y/N, I’m coming!”

***

“Why don’t you go up to your room.” You suggested to Ezra, ruffling his hair lightly as you walked into Jimin’s living room. He leaned into your touch, clearly affection-starved, making you frown. You’d have to talk to Jimin about that. You noticed just how cold and strict Jimin was with Ezra; of course it wasn’t your place to say anything about how someone raises their child, but it did become your place when said child has to look for comfort from you.

“Are you going to come paint with me?” Ezra asked timidly, one hand gripping the shopping bag filled with art supplies, while the other gripped your hand tightly, not wanting to let go.

“In a little bit, sweetheart.” You murmured, walking up the staircase that lead to the rooms. “Go set up. I just need to talk to your father about something.”

He nodded, only leaving your hand when you walked past his bedroom. You walked to the end of the hallway, planning on giving Jimin a piece of your mind for being so unloving towards Ezra. Without knocking, you entered the room hoping to find Jimin laying on his bed or something, but he was nowhere to be found.

“Sir?” You said quietly, before berating himself. Hadn’t he told you not to call him that? You cleared your throat, steeling your voice before calling loudly again. “Jimin?”

As you walked further into his room, you heard the shower running, indicating that he was already occupied. You decided to talk to him later, so you turned on your heel and began to walk out the room. Suddenly, you heard Jimin’s voice. “Y/N, I’m coming!”

Huh. Okay. Guess he was cutting his shower short for you.

You sat on the edge of his bed, elbow resting on your crossed legs and chin resting on your open palm. What if you were about to say something hurtful and he decided that he didn’t need you anymore? Maybe this was a bad idea.

In a split second, you decided that this conversation could happen another day, so you started to make your way out of his room. As you were about to lift yourself off of the luxurious bed, the bathroom door opened, letting steam escape the bathroom, and also allowing you to see your boss.

Your jaw dropped open seeing Jimin in nothing but a white towel covering his lower body. Water droplets streaked down his chest, down to his toned abs. Upon seeing them, you felt your mouth go completely dry… Oh god, his body looked like it was carved by the gods themselves. Jimin looked shocked, almost panicked by your presence, which was weird since he had told you he was coming out of his shower.

“I, um… I needed to talk to you.” You said, quickly, standing up hurriedly. “I was about to leave and then you said you’d be coming out the shower. I just assumed you wanted me to wait for you.” Jimin’s cheeks were tinged red, probably from the hot shower, paired with his second-hand embarrassment from you. “I’m sorry. I’ll just speak to you later. I’ll be in Ezra’s room if you need me.”

And with that, you practically ran out of Jimin’s room. You didn’t realise that you didn’t allow him to get a word in. Speed walking to Ezra’s room, you felt your cheeks heat up from extreme embarrassment – how, just how, did you think it was appropriate to check out your boss? Sure, you were living in his house, but it’s totally a different thing.

“Y/N?” Ezra called, confused when you rushed into his room and shut the door behind you quickly. You quickly took a deep breath to calm your radical breathing, then turned to the young child, putting on a dazzling smile.

“Yes, sweetheart?” You replied, seeing a smile forming on his lips due to your own. Your eyes drifted to the painting supplies that he had spread in front of him, all untouched, because he was waiting for you to paint with him.

“Did father give you work? Or can you come paint with me?” He timidly said, eyes full of hope. You felt your smile turn tender; you know that you only spent a few weeks with him, but Ezra had completely captured your heart. But paired with your tenderness, you felt yourself feel a pang of sadness: Ezra never called Jimin anything other than ‘father’. It wasn’t that big of a deal, but it just showed that their relationship wasn’t the best, nor were they the closest. God, how can you think about fixing their relationship when you were drooling over his father five seconds ago? You’re pathetic.

“I came to paint with you.” You reassured, swallowing hard to try and get that delicious image of Jimin out of your mind.

***

After you left, Jimin sat on the edge of his bed, extremely embarrassed that you had heard him jacking off. Sure, you didn’t exactly figure it out, but you had heard him nonetheless. He quickly found himself regretting doing what he did, not because you were his PA, but because you were obviously so innocent; even though he had caught you checking him out, he’s pretty sure that your mind didn’t extend to anything else. Unlike him.

He sighed, knowing that he had to face you momentarily. Park Jimin – a married man – had been thinking of his assistant, who’s selflessly helping him by living in his house, while he masturbated. How fucked up is he? What kind of person –

Stopping his self-derogatory monologue, he realised that he had nothing to be angry or ashamed about: he was no longer a married man, and as far as he knew, you were completely single. What was stopping him from advancing on you? It was almost as if a lightbulb had gone off in his brain. What was stopping him?

With his mind made up, he decided to quickly slip on some clothes, probably needing to make a better impression than just a towel hanging loosely from his hips, then walked down the stairs to where you were making dinner.

“Y/N?” He called, walking with purpose into the kitchen. His eyes fell to you chopping up some onions with Ezra quietly sketching something next to you. He suddenly felt awkward – the whole situation was too… Domestic for him. It was something that he never experienced.

But it was too late for him to change his mind. Swallowing hard, he cleared his throat and directed his gaze to Ezra. “Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N.”

***

“Y/N?” Jimin called as he walked into the kitchen, seemingly angry. You immediately shrunk, thinking he was about to yell at you for waiting in his room. You felt nervousness fill your being at your pending doom. He turned his attention to Ezra, voice turning even harder. “Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N.”

That simple command, ‘Go to your room. I need to talk to Y/N’, was enough to bring back all your anger that consumed you earlier. Jimin needed to fix his relationship with Ezra, and he needed to fix it fast.

Ezra wordlessly obeyed Jimin, hopping off the chair from next to you and making his way up to his room. Once he was safely back in his room you turned to Jimin, meeting his cold gaze, you refused to back down. Ezra needed you now.

“Y/N, are you –”

“Why do you speak to him like that, Jimin?” You coldly asked, trying to match his usual tone. “That’s what I needed to talk to you about earlier.” He didn’t reply to you, seemingly shocked in your tone and words. “I know it’s not my place to say anything, but it seems like no one else is willing to confront you about it. Ezra is just a child. It’s fine if you speak to me like that, I’m just your assistant, but he’s your child.”

“You’re more than just –”

“I wasn’t finished.” You said, visibly vibrating from fear, yet you still stood your ground. “You’re so cold towards him, Jimin. And why?”

He stood frozen in place, unsure of what to say. In the many years he has known you, you’ve never seemed so… Angry about something. You were almost a completely different person and it made Jimin feel unsure about himself for the first time in forever. He swallowed hard and broke eye contact with you, deciding to instead stare at the floor.

“I know that things must be hard because Irene isn’t here anymore, but you cannot allow that to effect Ezra.” You said softly, knowing that you had overstepped multiple boundaries. He opened his mouth to reply but found that he had no words to say. He had no excuse for his harshness towards Ezra.

Before you could say anything else – perhaps an apology, perhaps more wakeup calls for him – he quickly walked out of the kitchen, probably going to hide in his bedroom. You sighed, knowing that you were too harsh, yet also knowing that it needed to be said.

***

A few hours later, you still haven’t seen Jimin. He had been holed up in his room, doing God knows what, and didn’t even come out for dinner, which left you and Ezra to enjoy a quiet supper. But now it was late, and Ezra was currently knocked out in his room; apparently the shopping trip and then painting for hours was a little too much for his small body. The fact that he was sleeping was bad news for you – it left you to wallow in your thoughts, it left you to overthink.

Sighing as you turned on the shower, you began stripping and jumped into the shower, enjoying the soothing feeling of hot water caressing your skin. However, your relief was short lived as unwelcome thoughts of Jimin swam through your mind. It wasn’t your place to say anything; all you did was hurt him when he needed someone to help him.

‘I should probably apologise’, you mused as you rinsed soap off of your body, feelings of guilt and shame pooling in the pit of your stomach. Nodding to yourself, you quickly wrapped yourself in a fluffy towel, before going back to your room, planning to quickly change into your pyjamas before going over to apologise to Jimin. Before you could do anything of the sort, you heard someone knock on your door, making you frown.

“Ezra, is everything okay –?” You began, tightening the towel around you before pausing. It wasn’t Ezra, it was Jimin. He looked exhausted, worried even. Before you could say anything, he beat you to it.

“I think I have feelings for you.” He blurted, causing you to look at him confused. You didn’t even get a word in before a look of realisation came over him and he all but bolted back to his room, leaving you with your mouth agape. What. The. Fuck.

“J-Jimin!” You called, now worried for his sanity. You definitely shouldn’t have yelled at him earlier. He didn’t look back at you as he hurriedly closed his door. Exasperatedly, you walked down the hallway, and opened his door.

He was laying on his bed, face buried into a pillow. If you weren’t so worried about him, you might have actually laughed at the situation. “Jimin?” You softly said, making him groan.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. Just ignore whatever I said. Go back to your room.”

“Why are you apologising?” You murmured, shutting the door and walking closer to him, ignoring what he said. He sighed into his pillow; face still buried there.

“Please go. I can’t face you right now.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You said gently. “You need to learn how to express your feelings, Jimin. You can’t say something like that then run away.”

“I didn’t run away.” He grumbled, barely lifting his face off of his pillow to eye you out. This was so unlike the usual Jimin that you couldn’t help but feel worried. “Go get dressed, Y/N.”

“Then you’ll just lock your door so that I cannot get in.” You replied, suddenly acutely aware of your lack of clothing, making your cheeks heat with embarrassment. Clearing your throat, you tentatively walked forward, placing a hand on his muscular back. “Jimin? Please talk to me. I’m worried about you.”

“I’m fine. Go to your room.”

“Stop acting like a child.” You chastised, realizing that this was the only way to get him to talk to you. “You need to get used to talking about your feelings. Yours and Ezra’s relationship needs open communication –”

“Y/N, I swear I’ll talk about my fucking feelings as soon as you get some clothes on.” He all but yelled, suddenly sitting up with his eyes running hungrily over your exposed legs. “I can’t tell you what I need to when my mind is set on tearing that God damn towel off.”

You froze, completely shocked that he could ever say such a thing, let alone to you. Quickly shaking off your astonishment and arousal, you knew this was just a ploy to avoid talking about his feelings. Brushing your hand on his cheek, Jimin’s eyes fluttered shut while his chest rapidly rose and fell. Unbeknownst to you, he wasn’t using this as some tactic to get rid of you: he genuinely couldn’t get his mind off of your luscious thighs, wanting nothing more than to sink his teeth into it and mark you everywhere.

“Please…” He whimpered, leaning into your touch despite wanting – no, needing – you to leave. He didn’t know if you were at all interested in him, but if by some off chance you were, he didn’t want this to be the first time anything like that happened.

“Talk to me.” You whispered, worry and anxiousness blooming in your heart. What happened to the fearless, scary CEO? Where was he?

Within a millisecond you felt his hands grip your towel-clad waist, flipping you underneath him, allowing his toned thighs to trap your own bare legs. Your heart began to pound rapidly, only adding to the growing heat between your thighs.

“What do you want me to talk about?” He murmured as plump lips ghosting over your earlobe, resulting in a silent gasp to leave you. Why were his lips so soft? And why, oh God why, were you so responsive to his barest touch?

Gulping, you tried to move, knowing that Jimin wasn’t in the right state of mind for this. Even so, it was almost as if your body didn’t want to believe that; your arousal from him doing basically nothing was slowly becoming evident.

“Jimin, you’re not all there at the moment, we can talk about this in the morning –”

“No, you wanted to talk, so let’s fucking talk.” He snapped, running his hands over your calves, head buried in the crook of your neck and his lips ghosting over your pulse point. “Now what do you want me to tell you, Y/N, hmm? Want me to tell you that I want to bury my face in-between your legs?”

“Jimin!” You said, shocked at his lewd words. He didn’t even have the decency to look abashed, nor did he even pull away from your neck. Quietly kissing over your sensitive flesh, you began to feel goose bumps rise over your skin. He paid you no mind as his hands continued to roam over your exposed legs.

“Do you want me to tell you that I want to have my lips wrapped around your pretty little clit? Or how about finger fucking you until you’re cumming all over my hands? Hmm? Is that what you want, baby?”

As much as you wanted this, as much as you wanted him, you couldn’t allow him to do this. Not when he has such emotional issues. Tearing his lips away from your neck, you held his face securely between your hands.

“You’re thinking with your dick.” You firmly said, not missing the way his eyes were clouded with lust. He shook his head, trying to move back to ghost lips over your soft skin. “I cannot let you do something you’ll regret. I came here to talk about your feelings. You need to communicate with me.”

“Let me show you what I’m trying to say… You know I can’t… Use words for this.” He mumbled, feeling the foreign feeling of nervousness gnaw at him. “I’m not going to regret it, Y/N.”

Without waiting for a response, he removed your hands from his cheeks and instead cupped your own. “Can I kiss you?”

You were frozen, unable to think. Was this really happening? Did he really mean it?

Before you could answer him, you felt his soft lips gently ghost over your own, allowing you plenty time to move away if you wanted, before urgently pressing his lips onto yours. He tasted like mint, the fresh feeling making you sigh into his mouth. The tip of his tongue ran over your bottom lip, silently asking you to let him in. Tentatively parting your lips, you felt his tongue slowly slip next to your own, the corners of his mouth slightly lifting upwards to create a small grin.

‘Is this what it is supposed to feel like?’ he mused, feeling butterflies erupt in the pit of his stomach. He never had this feeling of Irene; hell, they never kissed unless he was balls deep inside of her, and even then, affectionate kisses were few and far between. Kisses between them used to be a clash of teeth, sloppy, usually out of irritation and just to keep each other quiet because they had a child down the hallway, but this… This was different. This was right.

Pushing his nervousness aside, he took one corner of your towel and slowly pushed it out of the way, giving you plenty time to stop him if you were uncomfortable. You didn’t stop him; you didn’t push him away – and why would you? You wanted him just as much (if not more) as he wanted you. Threading your fingers through his hair, you began kissing him harder, no longer fighting against your need for him. Even though you knew he wasn’t serious about his feelings for you, the sexual tension was too much for you to handle, especially since he looked so delectable hovering over your now naked body.

“Knew you had fucking amazing tits.” He murmured to himself, breaking away from your lips to kiss down your neck and chest. Your towel lay underneath you, no longer a barrier between your bodies. He sucked hard on your chest, marking the flesh just above your nipple with a love bite, eliciting an audible gasp from you.

Your arousal had begun to slowly drip out of you, the sticky fluid making your folds glisten, something that wasn’t missed by Jimin. After trailing down the length of your body, he placed a kiss over your mound, his eyes never leaving your own. With your heart beating profusely, you watched with bated breath as his eyes left yours to settle on your dripping folds.

“You can stop me whenever you want.” He promised, struggling to contain his excitement at finally being able to taste you. Nodding at him, you watched as he spread your thighs, trailing his lips over the sensitive flesh, before abruptly sucking harshly on your inner thigh. He proceeded to do this to your other thigh as well, taking his time to get to where you needed him. After marking both your thighs, he soothingly ran his tongue over the bruised flesh, only adding to your frustration.

“Jimin…” You quietly complained, your pussy throbbing from lack of attention. He looked up at you, laying his chin on your stomach, with a small smile on his features, making your heart stop. He was so gorgeous like this: carefree, happy.

“I have to take my time.” He whispered sadly, his smile still on his face. “I don’t know if you’d want anything to do with me afterwards. You might leave.”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You promised, heart wrenching at how lost he looked. Before any more words could be said, before any more reassuring sentiments could be uttered, Jimin peeled apart your folds, strands of sticky arousal visible connecting your lips. Whilst locking eyes with you, he repeatedly licked up your arousal, spreading your folds further to get him what he wants.

His warm, soft tongue glided against your slickness, drawing soft sighs and moans out of you. Your fingers made their way into his hair, needing to feel him in some type of way as he so gently suckled on your dripping core. The pleasure engulfed your entire being, all curtesy of Jimin’s delicate mouth. Slowly, you felt him prod a finger at your honeyed entrance, resulting in a moan being drawn out of you.

While he slowly worked his finger into your core, he leaned up and kissed you again, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. As you sucked on his bottom lip, making him chuckle at you, he inserted another finger into you, making you clench around his digits.

“Shit, baby, you’re so tight.” He groaned, feeling you contract on his fingers. “When’s the last time anyone stretched you out?”

“Jimin!” You moaned, feeling him massage that spongey flesh inside of you while his thumb rubbing loose circles over your slightly swollen clit.

“As much as I want to hear your moans, I need you to be quiet, baby.” He murmured onto your lips as he continued his actions. You whimpered into his mouth, unable to contain yourself. “Think you can be quiet for me?”

He didn’t wait for a reply; instead, he removed his hot mouth from your lips and placed it right on your clit, sucking harshly. Throwing your head back from the white-hot pleasure, you bit down your moans, wanting nothing more than to please him and be quiet.

“Pussy taste so fucking good.” He praised whilst smirking, a result of you bucking your hips further into him while biting your lip, silently asking for more. Suddenly, he gripped your hips tightly and pressed the flat of his tongue over your leaking cunt, collecting your arousal on his taste buds before swallowing the nectar down, eventually abandoning the movements to stick his stiffened tongue in your entrance repeatedly. His tongue fucked you mercilessly, relentlessly, all the while rubbing forceful circles on your clit. Pressure continued to mount in your abdomen, only amplifying the extreme pleasure Jimin was inflicting on you.

“J-Jimin… I’m going to…” You whimpered, your hands tangled in his hair as he suddenly added two fingers in you, using his mouth to suck on your clit harshly, almost painfully. He spread his fingers into a V, stretching your tight walls, kick starting your climax.

Your body arched off the bed, pushing your exposed breasts into the cool air. Jimin worked you through your orgasm, his tongue and fingers not relenting as you continuously convulsed around him, your cum sliding down into his tongue. Your cunt throbbed, the pleasure foreign after not being stimulated for so long, yet he didn’t stop. Continuing his actions, he began to lick thick, bold stripes with his tongue, giving no sign of stopping, despite you ceaselessly pulling on his hair out of sheer overstimulation.

“Jimin, Jimin, stop!” You whined, feeling the euphoric feeling evolve into something different. Because of your begs and pleas, his tongue relented; removing it from your pulsating clit to your lips. Tasting your cum on his tongue made you whimper, the mere thought of you tainting him was already turning you on again.

His plump, pink lips never left your own, even when he switched from hovering over you to laying next to you, using his hands to continuously rub and knead your soft thighs.

“You did so well for me, baby.” He praised, pulling you over his lap, making you straddle him. Subconsciously, you began to grind down onto him, feeling his hard cock through his pants. Letting out a strangled moan, he forcefully held your hips to prevent you from rubbing your slightly swollen, still glistening folds over his length. “We don’t have to go further, Y/n. Too much has been left unsaid. I just had to have a taste of you before you…”

“You still haven’t told me if you meant what you said.” You whispered, not at all feeling awkward still being the only one who wasn’t fully clothed. “You need to get better with your emotions.”

“I –” He choked out before looking away with tears in his eyes, causing your heart to clench. “How am I supposed to do this?”

“Don’t cry, Jimin.” You whispered, using the pad of your thumb to gently wipe away the small tear that fell. “Just tell me how you feel. I won’t judge you. You’ve never judged me, right? You stood by me when no one else would. I’ll never forget how much you helped me, despite not even knowing me.”

He slowly turned back to you, burying his face in the crook of your neck and holding you tightly. You felt silent sobs wreck through him, bringing forth tears to your own eyes; but you couldn’t cry, not when he needed someone, anyone, to be there for him. While allowing the sobs to die down and ignoring the sudden wetness on your neck, you stroked his hair soothingly, wondering when’s the last time anyone encouraged him to let out his emotions, encouraged him to cry. You didn’t rush him. You knew this was more than just him and you – it was Ezra, it was his lack of emotion and affection to everyone around him.

“I’m ready to listen whenever you’re willing to talk, okay?” You whispered, softly kissing the top of his head. The action caused him to immediately tighten his arms around your waist, pulling you impossibly close. After a few moments, his croaky voice rang through the room.

“I feel like the worst father in the world.” He admitted through his tears, small sniffles leaving him. “I know I should be doing better, but how? I don’t know my own son, Y/N. You’ve barely moved in and you know more about him than me. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to be affectionate.” He spat out the word, his tears drying on his cheeks.

“You seemed to know how to be affectionate with me…” You said quietly, pointing out how he had become so caring when there was a sexual element. He sighed, running a hand through his messy hair.

“That’s different.” He admitted. “I know what you like, I know how to make you cum, I know the right things to say... That’s just sex. It’s easy for me to do all those things, but anything other than that…”

“Keep going, baby.” You encouraged, using a pet name to show him that you are listening.

“I’m confident enough in my body, but I’m not confident with my words.” He carefully explained, voice cracking slightly. Taking a shaky breath, he finally looked up into your eyes, finding comfort in them despite being scared, terrified even, of opening up like this. “I really like you, Y/N – oh my God, I sound like some teenager –”

Quickly pecking him on his lips, he fell quiet, mesmerized by the softness of your lips, if only for a second. “I like it when you sound like a teenager.” You replied, no teasing tilt to your voice as you looked at him with adoration.

“I can’t love you like anyone else can.” He admitted, still gazing into your eyes, seemingly unable to look away. “I don’t know how to, evidently because I’m already fucking divorced. But I can try. I can learn. You can teach me.” He breathed, saying everything rather quickly. “Please teach me. I can’t let you go. I need you. Ezra needs you.”

“Jimin,” You said carefully, trying not to sound too harsh. “I’m your assistant.”

“I don’t care.” He breathed, heart pounding through his chest. “You can move to another department if you want, but I need you in my life.”

“What if it doesn’t work out?” You whispered, having to think all the consequences through for the both of you. He frowned at the thought of not being able to work out your relationship.

“Then at least we tried.” He whispered back, his forehead leaning on your own. “But please give this a chance. I need you. I need this. Teach me how to love again.”

***

One year later

“Dad, I’m going to be late!” Ezra huffed, trying to move away from the hugs and kisses his father was trying to give him. Jimin elected to ignore him, kissing his forehead one more time, before Ezra ran to you, hiding behind you. “Y/N, please make him stop! Grandma’s waiting for me.”

“Why would I stop him when I want to do the same thing?” You laughed, picking him up and peppering his face with kisses. Jimin chuckled, gathering Ezra’s backpack, various toys and paint supplies, packing them neatly. Jimin’s mother had asked Ezra to accompany her for a short holiday to the countryside, which Ezra basically jumped at.

“Mommy, please!” He whined, making you freeze. He had never called you that, and by the silence echoing throughout the room, Jimin hadn’t expected it either. Before you could break the silence, Ezra gasped and ran over to his Grandmother, who had just walked through the open front door, hugging her tightly in greeting.

“I’m sorry for rushing you, but we really do need to get on the road.” She apologised, all of you standing outside as Jimin placed Ezra’s luggage in the trunk of his mother’s car.

A few minutes later, you and Jimin were waving goodbye to a retreating car. After seeing them safely off, Jimin snatched up your hand, intertwining your fingers and bringing it up to his lips. He still had an irrational fear of showing affection to you and Ezra when people were around, but when you were in your safe haven, he was the most affectionate person you’ve ever met.

“Mommy, huh?” He asked while smirking, using his free hand to bring your hips to his body. You smiled and blushed in response, shrugging as if it was nothing, but inside you were jumping for joy. He planted a kiss on your lips before leading you back inside, his hands squeezing your ass gently. “So, mommy and daddy are having some alone time this weekend…”

“Ezra didn’t call you daddy.” You laughed, walking into the kitchen to get a snack to eat.

“Yeah, but you did.” He replied, biting his lip as you gasped, feeling heat rise to your cheeks as he brought up your hidden kink that you had accidentally let slip a few nights ago. He hadn’t brought it up until now, making you think that he hadn’t heard your whines as he had been too busy fucking you senseless.

“Park Jimin!” You chastised, swallowing hard as your hands barely grasped the ice cream pint you had gotten from the freezer. He raised an eyebrow at you, squaring his shoulders. “I didn’t think you heard me.” You admitted, blushing tomato red.

“Oh, don’t worry, I heard you loud and clear, baby girl.” He promised, pressing his bulge against you as you leaned on the large island in the middle of kitchen. His hands found purchase in your hair, roughly yanking it backwards so that your neck was exposed. He ran his lips all over your neck, biting the flesh, leaving dark red marks.

“Ezra is barely out the door and you’re already this horny?” You snarked, trying to hide your gasps as he sucked rather harshly on your pulse point.

“We haven’t been able to really fuck lately.” He shrugged, lifting you up on the cold granite surface and wrapping your legs around him. “Quickies aren’t as fun as being buried in this pussy for hours and hours on end, baby.”

“We have to go through that presentation – Jimin!”

“Where are your panties, huh?” He teased, his hand slipping under the hem of your skirt to knead your bare ass. “You’re acting like you don’t want my cock, but you aren’t even wearing anything to cover this pretty, little pussy.”

You didn’t reply, knowing that if you did a whimper would slip out of you, only adding to Jimin’s smugness. He ran his fingers along your folds, revelling in the way thick strands of your arousal clung to his fingers, essentially coating them in your arousal. You couldn’t take it anymore, the charade of not wanting him, so you threaded your fingers through his hair, using it to bring him to your mouth.

“Jimin, please…” You breathed, feeling his fingers dance around your clit. As you spoke, he froze, pulling away from your lips with his eyebrow raised.

“What did you just call me?” He asked sternly, his fingers retreating from your wet cunt, only to come down hard on your clit, the slapping sound echoing throughout the kitchen. “You need to be more respectful, you little brat.”

“Daddy…” You corrected, voice still barely above a whisper. “Daddy, please.”

He slapped your pussy again, ensuring that whimpers left your lips. Your arousal coated his fingers, the sticky substance making his skin glint in the light.

“Look at what a mess you’ve made, baby girl.” Jimin murmured, inspecting his shining fingers before looking you right in the eye and slipping one in his mouth. The sight alone was enough to release another gush of arousal out of you, some of your juices now coating your thighs. “Fuck, you taste good.” He groaned, sucking on his finger. He glanced up at you, his eyes showing just how smug he is. “Want to have a taste?”

Without waiting for a reply, he placed his fingers in your mouth, allowing you to taste yourself as you sucked his fingers clean. Maintaining eye contact with him, you swirled your tongue around his digits, licking him clean.

“Like that?” He asked, eyes dark with need. With his finger still in your mouth, you nodded, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “What do you want now, baby?”

“Daddy’s cock.” You instantaneously replied, almost quivering with need. He smirked, allowing you to grind into his bulge, trying to desperately get any source of friction.

“And what do you want to do with Daddy’s cock?”

“Suck it.” You answered, mouth salivating at the mere thought of it. “I want to suck it and taste Daddy’s cum.”

“Then why aren’t you on your knees?”

Wordlessly, you hopped off of the counter, knees harshly hitting the floor, yet you couldn’t care less. Your hands messily unbuckled Jimin’s belt, precariously shoving his jeans and boxers down his muscular thighs before you began to palm him in your hand.

“Don’t fucking tease me.” He groaned, voice deep and laced with seduction. “I still have half a mind of punishing you for being disrespectful, baby.”

Not wanting to get punished – well, at least for now – you slipped him into your mouth, sucking gently on his tip while maintaining eye contact. You gave it a few kitten licks, sucking off his precum, you run the flat of your tongue on the underside of his cock, making him grip your hair. His eyes hardened as he knew you were still teasing him, so he used his grip on your hair to push you all the way down to the hilt, making you take every inch of his cock down your throat.

“Ah, fuck yeah, baby.” He moaned, feeling your throat muscles expand and contract as it tried to swallow all of him. Tears sprung to your eyes, the lack of oxygen evident, but it only made Jimin chuckle. “Who fucking told you to tease me, huh? You wanted my cock in your mouth, baby. Now take. It. All.”

He punctuated every word with a thrust, increasing the tears in your eyes as well as the spit leaking out the side of your mouth. You loved it when Jimin made you take all of him, and it was evident as your arousal had slickened your thighs even more. He eventually took pity on you, pulling you off his dick as you gasped for air, your tears now streaming in rivulets down your face.

Allowing your lungs the chance to get air, you begun using your hands to jack him off, your spittle and his precum acting as lubricant. You stared up at him as his face relaxed with pleasure, head thrown back as your hands continuously pumped his length. Eventually, when your lungs had recovered, you put him back into your mouth, bobbing your head on the parts that you could reach without choking. With your hands fondling his balls, and your hollowed-out cheeks repeatedly sucking on him, he quickly met his end.

Grabbing your hair, he once again pushed you right up against his pubic bone and shot his cum right down your throat. High pitched, melodious moans reached your ears as his orgasm hit him. The salty, tangy taste of his cum coated your taste buds, the taste alone making you clench your thighs.

After the rush of his climax was over, you came off his dick with a ‘pop’, nuzzling your head into his thigh, clearly looking for praise. With his chest still heaving, he looked down at you, affection blooming in his eyes.

“You always suck Daddy’s cock so well, baby.” He murmured, helping you to your feet, bringing your lips to his own. “Such a good girl, hmm? Does my baby want a reward?”

“Swallowing your cum was my reward.” You breathed, still revelling in the feeling of having him fall apart in your mouth. He smirked, enjoying how submissive and God damn fuckable you were. His hand slipped around your throat, squeezing the sides gently, while his lips ghosted over the shell of your ear.

“Run up to our room. By the time I get there, I want you to be naked and laying on the bed for Daddy. Got it?”

Nodding, you felt excitement bloom deep in your chest, knowing that you were truly about to be rewarded. Once he let go of your throat, you all but ran up the stairs, wanting nothing more than to please Jimin. You stripped out of your skirt and stockings before you even made it to the bed, throwing them haphazardly over your shoulder, then you began to unbutton your blouse, peeling off your bra in the process.

Waiting with bated breath, you found yourself squirming with impatience on the cool, silky sheets. Right before you could huff out with irritation, Jimin made his appearance in all his glory. His own shirt was nowhere to be found, and his jeans hung low on his hips, giving you quite a view of his abs and defined v-line.

He paid you no mind, walking over to the closet to rummage around in the drawers. He came back a few moments later with a pair of handcuffs and nipple clamps, as well as something shoved in his back pocket. You quivered at the thought of him tying you up; despite the amount of times it had happened, it still brought an insane amount of adrenaline to your bloodstream.

“Good girl…” He trailed off as he took in your naked body, feeling his cock stir again. The silence in the room faded as he slipped the cuffs around your wrists, then fastened it to the headboard so that your arms were stretched above you, pushing your breasts up into the air. Using this to his advantage, he immediately snapped the clamps onto your nipples, the soft silicone doing little to soften the blow of the pinch.

A hiss left your lips when he tugged on the chain, accentuating the pain that claimed your nipples. He tugged on it again, gauging your reaction, and smirking when you whimpered.

“Does it hurt, baby?” He asked as he kissed your neck, sucking red blotches onto your skin. You nodded in response, causing him to smirk even further. “But you like it, don’t you? Daddy’s baby girl enjoys the pain.”

Before you could respond to him, his lips claimed yours, quickly claiming every breath you had. After a year of being together, Jimin’s lips knew exactly how to move with your own, not to fast nor to slow. His tongue swiped your bottom lip, slowly snaking its way to your own, where it massaged it gently.

In the midst of his lips ravishing your own, his hand slipped into his back pocket, retrieving a clit massager. Without breaking the kiss, he slipped his hand in-between your legs, prying them apart so that he could place the toy right above your clit.

As soon as he turned on the toy, the gentle sucking caused you to moan into his mouth. Continuing to move his tongue in tandem with yours, Jimin slowly began to circle the head of your toy around your clit, getting maddeningly close to the bundle of nerves but never actually touching it.

“Daddy…” You whined, wiggling your hips so that he could place the toy directly on your clit. “Stop teasing!”

“Weren’t you just teasing me when we were in the kitchen?” He cockily asked, once again circling your clit with the toy. “Remember, baby? When you weren’t giving me what I wanted?”

“But you came!” Your argued, voice slowly becoming whinier as your stomach began to clench uncomfortably in anticipation. “I want to cum too, Daddy. Please!”

“You want to come?” Jimin asked, amused at the way your hips were trying to angle themselves to get the stimulation directly on your clit. You nodded, arms straining against the handcuffs. “Why don’t you stop chasing the toy then, huh? Why don’t you be a good girl for Daddy?”

“I am a good girl – ah!”

Your sentence was cut short by Jimin placing the toy right on your clit, turning the toy to its highest setting. A plethora of moans left your lips as the suction steadily grew and grew, simulating someone sucking on your clit.

“Daddy…” You moaned weakly, the pleasure making your brain fuzzy. With the suction directly on your clit, your orgasm loomed over you, driving any other thought out of your head. Needing something to set you off, you began to buck your hips into the toy, moaning and whimpering softly. “Please let me cum, Daddy… Please…”

“You can, baby.” He cooed into your ear, mesmerized with the way your body was lifting off of the bed to claim your orgasm. He quickly tugged on the nipple clamps, knowing that a tiny bit of pain would increase your pleasure tenfold. “Such a good little girl for Daddy, yeah? Always to ready to beg.”

With a yelp, your climax washed over you, turning your bones to nothing and transporting your head to cloud nine. You trembled lightly on the bed, sending a rush of blood back to Jimin’s cock and making him impossibly hard. He watched with bated breath as your chest rose and fell rapidly, the nipple clamps jingling with your actions, a visual indicator of the amount of pleasure your body was facing. Once your orgasm receded, he quickly turned off the toy and replaced it with his mouth, swallowing your cum and treating it almost with reverence.

“Daddy.” You croaked, voice almost gone due to the number of moans and whines that had left your throat just a few moments ago. Even though you had just experienced one of the best orgasms of your life, you wanted more – you wanted him. “Want you.”

“Are you sure you can handle another one, Y/N?” He asked seriously, not wanting to push you further than you could physically go. You nodded excitedly, pulling on the handcuffs to show how ready you were. He chuckled at your eagerness, taking off the clamps off of your nipples. They were puffy and sore, but your breasts welcomed the blood flow.

“Please fuck me.” You whispered, your cunt already clenching at the thought of being filled by Jimin’s cock. He smiled at you, his beauty taking your breath away as he stripped out of his jeans and boxers. His cock was already rock hard as it leaked pre-cum, the substance beading at the tip of his dusky pink head.

“Want my cock, baby?” He asked, positioning himself in-between your legs. You tried to reach out to him, wanting to align his dick at your entrance and watch how he pushed into your core, but the restraints that bound your wrists prevented that. That didn’t stop you from continuously tugging on the cuffs, the metal rattling against the bed post. “Keep acting like a little brat and I’ll leave you here the entire day.”

His threat immediately caused you to cease your actions, wanting nothing more than to feel him in you. Hearing the absence of you pulling on the restraints made him smirk up at you, knowing that you would probably do anything to have him in your cunt right now.

“So obedient.” He mused, leaning back and stroking his length to rile you up. “My baby will do anything for my cock, hmm? Such a dirty fucking slut for my cock.”

“Only for you, Daddy.” You promised, your breathing erratic due to seeing Jimin’s hand enclosed over his dick, lazily fisting the length. “Please fuck me. I need your cock in me.” He raised an eyebrow at you, still wanting to tease you despite being painfully hard. Your pussy clenched when he threw his head back in pleasure, fist pumping up and down his cock. “Jimin, please!”

“Is that how you talk to me?” He snapped, sliding his length into you as his hand tightened around your neck. Without giving you time to adjust to suddenly having his entire cock in you, he began to piston out of you, the sound of skin on skin echoing throughout the room. Your eyes rolled back from the pleasure, the feeling of having his cock force open your walls and the feeling of his hand tightening around your neck making you lose all train of thought. “Answer me, you fucking brat!”

“Daddy!” You corrected; voice hoarse from being choked. His hand left your neck, instead using his hands to hold your hips at an angle so that he could go deeper. “I – I’m sorry, Daddy!”

Hot tears of pleasure ran down your face, the droplets falling to your chest. “You’re crying?” He scoffed, somehow making his hips rut into you faster, your tits moving from each powerful thrust. “Is my cock too much for you to handle?” He asked, thumbing your clit, bringing more tears of pleasure to your face. You shook your head at his question, showing him just how well you could take his dick. “Hmm, good girl. Such a good slut for my cock, huh? Take it all, baby. Take every fucking inch of me in this tight pussy.”

“Going to… Gonna cum.” You whimpered, feeling your pleasure reaching a precipice quickly. He groaned as he felt your walls hug his length even tighter due to your impending orgasm. His thumb continued to work quick, tight circles over your clit, the white-hot pleasure surging through your veins and setting off your climax. “Daddy!”

“Ah, fuck, Y/N!” Jimin moaned, your convulsing cunt bringing about his own orgasm. Your body arched off of the bed once again, your orgasm seemingly too intense for your body to handle. Your thighs trembled and a heat rushed up to your cheeks, sweat gleaming on your body. Jimin’s cock was coated in your cum, the sheer feeling of it causing him to shoot his hot cum deep in you. High pitched curses and moans left his plump lips, ropes of his cum coating your walls as both of you tried to control your heavy breathing.

Without pulling out of you, Jimin reached up and unlocked the handcuffs, throwing them onto the floor to join your long-forgotten clothes. Flipping you over so that you were laying on him, he kissed your raw wrists gently, despite both of your chests still heaving.

“Thank you, baby.” He murmured, kissing your forehead. “I’m sorry if I was too rough.”

“You were amazing, Jimin.” You said softly, enjoying the feeling of having his skin directly on your own. “I wouldn’t want this with anyone other than you.”

“I love you.” He blurted, unable to contain his feelings any longer. You sucked in a breath, not believing your own ears. It was the first time he had ever said something like this. “I know it’s been a journey and a half with me, teaching me how not to be some cold asshole, but God damn, I love you, Y/N. I can’t imagine a life without you; I don’t want to imagine a live without you.”

“I love you too, Jimin.” You replied, a smile creeping on your face as your heart fluttered. “I love you more than you will ever know.”

***

↳ a/n: so that was the first instalment of my colour series! I plan on doing a one shot for each member based on meanings of a specific colour. Please let me know what you think and let me know if you want to be tagged in the future one shots :)

#jimin smut #bts smut #bts x reader #bts #jimin x reader #park jimin #au #bts fan fiction #bts imagines #smut

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wiypt-writes · 3 years

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Riding On

Ch24: The Wheel Fell Off

Summary: There are some perks to having your own, personal mechanic…and Fliss isn’t the only one who notices.

Warnings: Bad language.

Pairing: Frank Adler x OFC Fliss Gallagher

A/N: So I gotta give a shout out to @sweater-daddiesdumbdork as she came up with a few gems of dialogue for this!

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar Fliss Gallagher and the other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

Riding On Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 23

And the wonder of it all is that you don’t realise how much I love you.

July 2020

Frank looked around at the team assembled in his office for the daily Stand-Up and nodded. “Okay, so I’ve nothing else to add, anyone got any other business before I call it?”

“Are we far behind on the repair time KPI for the Dolphin Tour fleet?” Mick, the finance manager looked at Frank and he shook his head.

“No, a day or so. Tim says he’ll have made the time back by Friday so we’re good.” Frank replied. “I’m not concerned. It shouldn’t have an impact on the incentivisation payments”

Mick nodded and Frank waited for a second. When no one else spoke, he dismissed the team and turned to his computer, leaning over to check the rest of the meetings and tasks for the day. He was midway through a very complicated spreadsheet detailing incoming repairs and timescales when his phone rang.

“Hey, sweetheart.” He greeted Fliss, leaning back in his chair a little. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, well, no. I was in the menage harrowing the surface and the wheel fell off the Quad Bike.”

“What do you mean the wheel fell off?” Frank pulled a face, scratching at his temple.

“Well, you know how it had four wheels? Now it has three,” came the sarcastic response.

“Dickhead.” Frank shot back and Fliss’ laughter hit his ears.

“Well, what did you think I meant?”

“You know what, I’m sorry I asked.” He rolled his eyes. “I suppose that means you want me to come fix it?”

“Yeah but it can wait until later if you’re busy, we managed to get it out of the way. Dad’s here snagging the extension to the tack room so he had a look and he says the bolt has sheared off so he can’t put it back on without a spare and I don’t know if you have any lying about in your Man Cave.”

“I will do from when we changed the wheels last year.” Frank clicked into his calendar to double check his schedule and smiled. “I’ve got no meetings this afternoon so I’ll come home at lunch. I can do the stock inventory at home.”

“My hero.”

“You know, if you carry on being sarcastic you can shove it up your ass.”

“I wasn’t being sarcastic!” Fliss laughed. “You know I love the fact that you can fix all this shit for me.”

“No you love the fact I get filthy fixing all that shit for you.”

“Well yeah, that’s one upside to you being good with your hands.”

“One?” Frank grinned, leaning back in his chair. “So there’s more?”

“You know it Sailor. I gotta go babe, my next client is here but I’ll see you soon, and if you can’t don’t worry it’ll wait.”

“I’ll sort it. Love you, sweetheart.”

“You too.”

True to his word, Frank left the office at midday giving his team the instruction to call his cell if needed. Once home, he parked up, headed inside to change out of his office attire and pulled on a pair of worn, light jeans and a t-shirt. Once done, he grabbed his shades, went into his work shop and picked up his tool box along with a couple of spare bolts and wandered over to the yard. As he walked, he stopped for a moment to take in the building work and smiled. The extension to the office and tack room area was complete, giving Fliss a huge extra space to organise all her tack and equipment. The paint and plastering had been completed a few days before and the fittings had all been finalised yesterday which was what Bill was in there snagging, making sure it was all as they’d specified. The storage units and racks were all on order and due to arrive at some point tomorrow so Frank knew he’d most likely be busy fitting them in the evening, not that he minded. He loved being able to be involved and help out.

The diggers were in place, hollowing out the additional riding paddock at the bottom of the yard, this one slightly smaller than the current one, but would give more than enough additional space for people to ride, and the hedge along the bottom field had been cleared to lead out to the additional three acres of grassy space they had acquired, with a new gravel path to be laid as a walkway once the post and rail fencing was done. They’d also asked for trenches to be dug for water pipes to avoid the stable hands having to lug buckets and tanks up to the horses.

All in all, it was coming along really well and on schedule, the whole thing set to be completed by the beginning of August, well in time for their wedding, which was now just ten weeks away.

Frank made his way onto the main yard, Fliss waving at him from where she was teaching in the paddock and he waved back, wandering into the newly-constructed building as Bill was busy pointing to something on the wall.

“Yeah, that needs patching up.” He nodded as the guy besides him produced a packet of small stickers in the shape of yellow dots. He placed one on the area Bill was clearly not satisfied with and Frank looked around, noticing a number of them in various places in the room. Bill glanced over at him and smiled. “Hey, son.”

“How picky ya being, Bill?” Frank smirked and Bill let out a snort.

“Nah, the actual building and electrical fittings are all sound.” He gave a nod. “This is just cosmetic. The door frame is chipped, this plaster here is rough and there’s some patches where it’s too thin but other than that it’s good.”

“I’m glad you’re doing this as I wouldn’t have noticed any of that.” Frank mused, leaning in a little closer to examine what it was that Bill had spotted, and the older man shook his head.

“Well, I have over thirty years in the trade and my eyes are still pretty sharp.” Bill chuckled. “Anyway, what are you doing here? Don’t tell me she dragged you out of work to fix that Quad!”

“It’s no problem. Got nothing on this afternoon so I can work from home.”

“She’s got you wrapped round her little finger.” Bill shook his head and Frank arched an eyebrow.

“I could say the same for you.” He accused. “And with Mary too for that matter. And Verity. You’re a soft ass for your girls, Bill and you know it.”

Bill shrugged. “Guilty as charged. Some would argue I’m a soft ass for my boys too, all of you.”

Frank smiled back, his neck feeling a little warm as the sentiment of Bill’s words sunk in and he took a deep breath and jerked his head towards the door. “I best go do what I came to do before her majesty accuses me of slacking.”

Bill chuckled. “It’s in the barn,” he informed, waving him away and Frank emerged out into the hot, midday July sun and strode round to the rear of the yard. The Quad bike and offending wheel were indeed stored in the barn, which was slightly cooler than the outside and Frank dropped his tool bag to the floor before he knelt down to take a look. Bill had been right, the bolt had snapped but it was an easy fix.

Or so he thought.

Ten minutes later, after a lot of cursing, heaving and straining he’d finally managed to work the broken bolt loose. Standing up, he cracked his neck and back, tossing the broken item into his bag with a contemptuous glare as he wiped his sweaty forehead and reached for the wheel. Thankfully, that was easy and took him two minutes to fit, and once he was happy it was sorted he pushed the quadbike out to make sure it was on properly.

“Did you fix it?” A small voice asked him and Frank glanced up to see a little girl, who can’t have been much older than four, stood looking at him as she grinned, her dark pigtails poking out from underneath a cap.

“Sure did.” He smiled.

“It was funny when it fell off.” She giggled. “Fliss screamed and then she swore.”

Frank snorted. “Yeah, she has a potty mouth.”

“Alicia!” A woman spoke and Frank turned to glance up at a slim, dark haired lady, dressed in a pair of bright, beige jodhpurs and a tight, baby-blue polo shirt, both items of clothing looking like they’d never come into contact with a horse at all. “Don’t run off!”

“I just wanted to see if the wheel was back on.” The little girl protested and the woman rolled her eyes.

“I’m sorry.” She smiled, flashing off a set of perfect white teeth from behind a set of glossed lips. “She’s so nosey.”

“Kids for ya.” Frank smiled, shaking his head.

“Don’t I know it?” She laughed, a perfectly manicured hand flying to her chest as Frank straightened up, wiping his hands on the back of his loose fitting, slightly grubby jeans. At that point, Joanne came round the back of the barn and she smiled.

“You ready for your lesson, Leesh?” She looked at the little girl who gave a cheer. “Come on then, Fliss is waiting.”

“This is the best Phys-Ed ever!” The little girl grinned and shot off after Joanne.

“Phys Ed.” Her mom rolled her eyes. “Damned private tutor education. I swear, I could kill my ex-husband for suggesting this.”

“You don’t ride yourself then, I take it?” Frank asked and she shook her head.

“No, but when she decided she wanted to, I thought I should make an effort. I think it’s what they refer to in the business as possessing all the gear, but having no idea.”

Frank gave her a smile. “Yeah, well, when my girl decided she wanted to learn I wasn’t particularly keen either but, well, she’s hooked now.”

“Oh, your girl rides too?” The woman flicked her hair back over her shoulder and Frank studied her for a moment, her painted on eyebrows and heavily bronzed face arranged into a genuine look of interest. He realised then that she had absolutely no idea who he was. “Does she do that here?”

“Yeah, you could say that.” He chuckled.

“Huh.” The woman scanned him up and down a little, her eyes blatantly flicking to his left hand. “Maybe it isn’t such a bad thing coming here after all.”

Frank took a deep breath, recognising the flirting for what it was and he gave her a little smile. “Well, I better get on.” He jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “I’m sure Fliss has a list of a hundred other jobs for me to so.”

“So, are you like her mechanic or something?” The woman continued and Frank looked at her, his face remaining straight.

“Something.” He gave her another nod and moved to walk back onto the yard, trying not to laugh.

“Oh, well, we’re new here. We’ve not been here long. I’m Michelle.” She offered, following him.

“Nice to meet you, Michelle.” He looked back over his shoulder as she paused a few steps behind him.

“I err, I didn’t catch your name.”

“That’s because I didn’t give it to you.” He stopped, turning to look at her, a smirk flicking across his face. She bit her lip and grinned back.

“Are you gonna?”

At that Frank let out a bark of a laugh. “Frank. Frank Adler.”

“Nice to meet you, Frank.”

“You too.” He smiled politely, as he slid his aviators back down from the top of his head onto his eyes, before he realised they were dirty. Taking them off he pulled the bottom of his shirt up slightly to wipe at the lens and when he returned them to his face he caught Michelle’s focus was still on his waist line. Her eyes flicked up to his and she shrugged a little.

“Sorry.” She wrinkled her nose. “Can’t blame a girl for looking, huh?”

Frank blinked, glad his eyes were hidden, a little shocked at her forthcoming nature, before he let out a snort.

“Well I’ve done my fair share of looking in the past, not any more though. My fiancée would have my balls hung up on the wall.”

“Oh, erm, sorry, I didn’t, wow.” She blinked and ran her hand through her glossy hair. “That’s embarrassing.”

Frank shrugged. “I’ve been in far worse situations, believe me.” With that he turned, and as he began to walk along the side of the paddock he looked up to see Fliss was watching him over the fence, her hands on her hips. Her eyes were hidden behind her wrap-arounds but he could tell from her demeanour she wasn’t best pleased. With a groan he approached the white post and rail that ran round the ménage and leaned on it.

“Hey.”

“Hey.” Her tone was friendly enough, despite her frosty body language, as she walked over towards him. “You get it fixed?”

“Yeah, took me a while to get the bolt off but it’s all good.”

“Thanks.” She slid her hat up a little and wiped at her brow with the back of her arm. “Fuck, its warm today.”

“Well, take your clothes off.” Frank grinned. “It’ll help you cool down.”

“Pervert.” She snorted, before she nodded behind him. “I see you met Kim.”

“Kim?” Frank frowned. “She said her name was Michelle.”

“Yeah, but Joanne calls her Kim Kardashian.” Fliss wrinkled her nose. “On account of the botox and fake boobs.”

“You two are bitches.” Frank scoffed and Fliss shrugged, before he frowned. “Hang on, her boobs are fake?”

“Keep talking, Sailor.” Fliss slid her glasses down and glared at him over the rims and he let out a laugh.

“Baby, I’m joking.” He looked at her and she gave a hum as she pushed them back up her nose as he leaned over the fence a little. “Come ‘ere.”

Fliss stepped towards him and Frank dropped his head to press his lips to hers. “Love you, baby.” He ginned, flashing her his best cheeky grin.

“You can’t get round me that easy.” She shot back and Frank shrugged.

“Who says I’m trying to get round you?”

“I know you, Adler.” She scoffed, stepping back. “Look, I gotta get on so I’ll see you at home. You wanna pick Alex up tonight?”

“Sure, I’ll get him. Is Mary getting the bus home from Summer Camp?”

“Yeah, I told her one of us would pick her up but she insisted.” Fliss shrugged and Frank smiled.

“Okay, I’ll see you in a couple of hours then.”

“Yeah, love you.”

“You too.”

*****

It was gone five before Fliss had finished at the yard. She’d hardly had time to breathe, let alone think about what she’d seen that morning, but that said, it was there, nagging in the back of her brain. She bid Joanne a good night, before she headed down the little path to the house. She was hot, sticky, uncomfortable and ready for a cool shower and a very large glass of white wine. As she walked down the drive, she passed her newly acquired white Hyundai SUV and stopped as she caught her reflection in the tinted rear mirror.

“Oh, Jesus.” She mumbled, moving closer to take a better look. Her skin was the colour of a fucking beet, her hair was all over the place from where she’d removed her cap and tossed it on her desk, her polo shirt was full of all sorts of stains and she was pretty sure she could smell herself and her riding britches were hung a little low on her hips, her soft stomach visible beneath the tight cotton of her top.

And then, from nowhere, came the image of fucking Michelle and her fucking size two figure, with her fucking perfect tits, model smile, stupidly glossy hair, and impeccable eyebrows and straight nose…

Fliss hastily pulled her pony tail out, fluffed out her sweat-damp hair and retied it, before she smoothed down her top as best she could and headed into their yard and through to the utility room, Thor trotting behind her.

“Hey!” Frank greeted her from where he was led on the rug, building some form of tower out of a set of large, brightly coloured blocks as Alex sat next to him, his little hands curling round a few of the bricks. The baby looked round and made an excited noise at the sight of his momma, and shuffled a little onto his knees and hands, crawling towards her.

“Frank, I stink.” She held her hands up in warning and Frank hastily rose, quickly picking Alex up off the floor before he could get much further towards her.

“A little dirt won’t hurt him.” He shrugged.

“Yeah, but I look and feel like I’ve been rolling on the muck heap all day so I’m going straight for a shower.”

Frank chuckled as she gave Alex a quick kiss on the head, moving out of his way before he could grab hold of her. “Well, I think you wear the dirty, stable hand look well, Honey.”

“Sure.” She rolled her eyes. “I’ll be back down in ten, do you mind starting dinner? I was gonna do a quick chicken salad.”

“Course.” Frank nodded, looking at her for a moment and she simply smiled back.

She could feel Frank’s eyes burning into her back as she headed out of the family room into the hallway, trudging up the stairs. As soon as she was in their bedroom she stripped off her sticky, dirty clothes, tossed them onto the floor and climbed straight into the shower, turning it to an adequate temperature. Tipping her face up into the stream she let the lukewarm water cool her slightly, as she blinked back tears of frustration.

Michelle had at least had the good grace to look a little sheepish when she’d realised exactly who Frank was, but fuck, it had still pissed Fliss off to the point she’d wanted to smash her face straight into the floor. And more to the point, Fliss felt annoyed that it had riled her the way it had. It wasn’t exactly like it was an unusual occurrence, everywhere they went Frank seemed to attract female attention, he was gorgeous, but today had been on her home turf, somewhere she was Queen Bee, and to have someone else buzzing around her hive in such a way made her feel uneasy.

Real uneasy.

With a deep breath she washed her hair, sorted herself out and turned off the shower before she wrapped herself in a towel and headed back into the bedroom. As she was brushing out her hair, her phone went off and she picked it up, snorting at the message from Steve which showed a baby-grow with the words, “party at my crib, 3am, bring a bottle,” on the front. She sent him a quick response, pondering for a moment at just how fast Sian’s latest pregnancy seemed to have gone, she was approaching her sixth month now, and seemed to be glowing just as she had with the twins. Mary had been very happy when they’d announced they were expecting another boy, declaring proudly that made her Bill’s only granddaughter, something which, according to her, made her special.

And of course, none of them had corrected her, because it was the truth.

Tapping her nails lightly against the surface of the vanity unit, Fliss scrolled down to her message conversations and found the one to Bonnie, sending her a quick text to ask if she was free. She set about her quick face care routine, before she braided her damp hair, and then her phone began to ring.

“Hey!” Bonnie greeted her. “I’m driving so thought I’d call you…erm, I’m not doing anything in particular, why?”

“Well, I know Si’s outta town on business so I wondered if you fancied company for a few hours?” Fliss replied, keeping the details as sketchy as she could. “Me and a bottle of white? God knows I could do with one after today.”

“That bad huh?” Bonnie chuckled. “Sure why not. I’m not working tomorrow after all. Did I tell you I had many weeks off?”

“You might have mentioned it.” Fliss replied, laughing a little. “You teachers have an easy ride.”

“Fuck you.” Bonnie shot back and Fliss snorted.

“I’m joking, well I’ve no lessons until later tomorrow so I can have a few.” Fliss scratched at her temple. “What time works for you?”

“Well, I’m just on my way to have dinner at my mom’s so, I can pick you up on the way back?” Bonnie offered. “Be about seven ish?”

“Perfect.” Fliss smiled.

“Awesome. We can get down to some Hen Party planning!” Bonnie’s voice was laced with excitement. “I found this awesome villa in Miami that will accommodate everyone.”

“Can’t wait to see it.” Fliss smiled.

After a little more conversation, Fliss placed her phone back down and dressed in a pair of denim shorts, a khaki green boat necked short-sleeved top and shoved her feet into a pair of flip-flops. She took another look in the mirror, scowling once more at her reflection, before she rolled her eyes and headed downstairs.

She walked into the family room and smiled as she saw Mary was sat on a stool at the island whilst Alex was sat in his high chair, munching on a piece of cucumber. Frank was busy tossing things into a salad bowl, and he turned to smile at her as she greeted them all, dropping a kiss to Mary’s head, then Alex’s in turn.

“Feeling better?” Frank asked as she slid her arms round his waist, pressing her face into his t-shirt.

“Yeah, much. God, it was disgustingly hot out there today.”

“Yeah, that’s one thing I don’t miss about working on boats, the lack of air conditioning.” Frank chuckled as she stepped back and moved to the fridge, pulling out a bottle of wine.

“My face feels burnt, but I don’t know how that’s possible.” She shook her head, thanking Frank as he reached into the cupboard and pulled down a glass for her. “I had a cap and shades on.”

“It doesn’t look too red.” He looked at her and she took a large gulp of wine, giving a satisfied sigh.

“Been waiting for that all afternoon.” She closed her eyes, savouring the taste before she opened them again. “Oh, that reminds me, I’m going over to Bonnie’s later, just for a couple of hours. Hen Do planning, that okay?”

“Course it is.” Frank nodded. “You want me to drop you off?”

“No, she’s at her mum’s so she’s going to come get me. I can Uber back.”

“I’ll pick you up.” Frank looked at her. “We can take the kids and Thor down to the beach for a little flashlight walk on the way back.”

“Flashlight walk?” Mary suddenly spoke, excitement lacing her tone. “The last time we did that it was so cool, we saw all those hermit crabs and the dolphins!”

“Don’t be so nosey.” Frank looked at her and she shrugged.

“You weren’t exactly whispering.”

He rolled his eyes and turned to Fliss who chuckled. “Sure, sounds good. I won’t be long, just a few hours.”

Frank shrugged. “Doesn’t matter, not like Mary needs to be up early and Alex will probably sleep the entire time anyway if he’s in the carrier.”

She gave him a small nod before she set about helping Frank with their dinner. It wasn’t long before it was ready, and they decided to eat outside. Mary chatted away, filling them all in on what she’d done at Summer camp, Frank listening, but all the time keeping one eye on Fliss who seemed to be taking it all in, but wasn’t saying much.

They finished, cleared their dishes away and Mary headed upstairs for a little while, whilst Fliss took Alex for his bath before she brought him back down, ready for bed to give him his bottle which Frank had ready.

She passed him over as Frank made his way to the sofa, dropping down to feed their baby, and Fliss watched for a moment, before her phone beeped.

“Bonnie’s outside.” Fliss stuck it back in her pocket and turned to Frank as he gently shifted Alex so he was a little more comfortable, his small hands curled around the bottle as he drank his milk.

“She not coming in?”

“No point, we’re only going straight back out.”

“Right.” Frank nodded as glanced back down at Alex. “Are you okay?” He asked, looking up at her and Fliss nodded back, a little too quickly, the way she always did when she was trying to hide something and Frank took a deep breath. “Liss…”

“I’m fine.” She shook her head. “Just a little wiped after today, that’s all.” Frank sighed and Fliss narrowed her eyes as she turned towards the kitchen. “Don’t sigh at me like that.”

“I’m not sighing at you like anything.” He replied as she pulled out a bottle of wine to take with her. “Just wish you’d tell me what the problem is.”

“I don’t have a problem.” Fliss rolled her eyes. “I’m just going to Bonnie’s for a few hours. Is my life that sad that whenever I socialise it always has to be because I have a problem?”

“I didn’t say that.” Frank replied, calmly.

“Good, because that’s not why I’m going.”

Knowing he was beat, and that if he pushed it any further they were going to end up in a full scale argument, Frank nodded. “Okay then. Have fun, call me when you’re done.”

Fliss blinked, almost as if she was waiting for him to push her again, before she simply shrugged and leaned over to gently run her finger down Alex’s chubby cheek. She then turned to Frank gave him a quick kiss.

“Love you.” He pressed his lips to hers a little deeper, before she stepped back and he was pleased to see her smiling.

“Love you too.”

Frank watched her go, taking a deep breath as he glanced back down at his son. A few minutes later, Mary bounded into the room and Frank looked up at her.

“Did you hear back from the vets, you know about Cleo?” She asked.

“Yup.” Frank grinned, “wanna read the email?”

“Dur!” She grinned and Frank pulled his phone out form his pocket, scrolling with one hand to the email that had arrived earlier that afternoon before he handed it to her.

“Dear Mr Adler,” Mary read, “I’m pleased to inform you that Sandybrook Cleopatra has passed her five-stage-vetting, bla bla bla,” she skipped on a few lines, “negative worm count, negative for equine influenza, rhino-erm, what’s that?”

“Pneumonitis” Frank read as she turned the screen to him. “I’ve got no idea, some disease, obviously.”

“And Streptococcus Equi, oh I know that one. That’s strangles.” Mary nodded.

“Whatever you say, Stack.” Frank smiled.

“As such, please see attached the completed and fully executed Export Health Certificate. Upon arrival in the USA, your animal will require a further three days quarantine which you must organise ….bla bla bla!” Mary grinned up at him as she handed him his phone back. “So that’s it?”

“Yup!” Frank nodded, as he glanced down at Alex who was now turning away from his bottle, signalling he was done. ”Everything’s done, Jo’s sorted the stuff with Department of Agriculture at this end, el ponio is being collected by the UK transporter tomorrow morning and will be on a flight later that evening.” He paused to rearrange Alex over his shoulder to burp him. “So, if all goes according to plan, she’ll be arriving here after her quarantine mid-afternoon on Fliss’ birthday.” He nodded, before he mumbled. “Thirteen thousand bucks lighter.”

“Thirteen thousand!” Mary spluttered. “Holy shit!”

“Hey, watch your mouth.” Frank looked at her sternly as Alex gave a loud burp. Frank turned his head to look at him. “Better out than in, Bean.”

“Sorry but, Dad, that’s a lot of money. I thought they did you a deal and knocked half off her price because it was Fliss?”

“They did.” He shrugged as he stood and carried Alex over to his pack and play. “She still cost me three. The rest is the cost of the vetting and the transport. But, Poppa B and Nanny V have said they only want half back and Uncle Steeb is chucking in a couple of hundred towards it, so it’s kind of like a joint present.”

“She’s worth it!” Mary grinned and Frank chuckled, heading to kitchen area.

“The horse or Fliss?”

“Mom, of course.” Mary scoffed, hopping up onto a stool at the breakfast bar.

“She sure is.” Frank agreed as he opened the fridge. “But I’ll be telling her that’s her birthday this year, birthday next year, Christmas and first wedding anniversary present all rolled into one.”

“First anniversary?” Mary looked at him. “You ain’t even married yet!”

“I know but now I don’t have to think about buying her anything for like twelve months.” He shrugged, smirking to himself as he leaned down for a bottle of beer, knowing he was talking utter shit. There was no way that was gonna fly, and he didn’t even want to try for the simple reason he loved buying Fliss stuff that made her smile. Still, it was fun trying to watch Mary decide if he was joking or not.

“What about Mother’s Day?” She asked after a moment.

“She aint my mom,” Frank looked at her, “as the eldest the responsibility for that falls to you.” He twisted the lid off the beer as Mary narrowed her eyes. “You want a beer?” He waved the bottle at Mary.

“Really?” Her eyes grew wide.

“No, just wanted to see how much crap I could tell you that you’d actually believe.” He smirked. Mary blinked, before she let out a low groan, realising she’d been had.

“You’re such an idiot.” She shook her head, and Frank watched, chuckling to himself as she bent down, picked Fred up and stalked to her Den, Thor hot on her tail.

*****

“So, I thought,” Bonnie grinned, turning the laptop to face Fliss as they sat at her kitchen table, “that this one sounds perfect. It sleeps up to twelve, has a pool, hot tub, is a short walk to the beach, not far from down-town and also literally a five minute walk to the hotel we stayed in, where we can get a really good deal on a Day-Spa package. And, we can also get someone in on the Saturday to do a grill and cocktails for us, if that’s what you wanna do.”

Fliss gave a small smile, and Bonnie frowned. “Or, not. Sorry, is it not what you wanted? I thought-“ Fliss sighed, her hand laying on Bonnie’s arm. “No, that…” she took a deep breath and smiled, “it sounds perfect, Bonnie. Honestly it does.”

“So, why are you making me feel like I’ve given you a dog turd on a plate and told you it’s your dinner?”

At that Fliss choked on the mouthful of wine she’d taken and looked at her best friend. “You know, for a teacher, you really have a way with words.”

Bonnie chuckled, as Fliss shook her head. “I’m sorry, it’s not you. I’m just feeling a little…actually, I don’t know what I’m feeling. Pissed off, maybe?”

“Why, what’s happened?” Bonnie looked at her.

“Just…oh, you know what, it’s nothing.” Fliss brushed it off, necking the remainder of the wine in her bottle. “Can I get a top up?”

“I’ll get it.” Bonnie nodded and stood up from the table. A moment or two later she returned, and held the bottle up. “You speak, and I’ll pour.”

Fliss blinked, realising she wasn’t going to get away with it, so she sat back and blurted everything out. How she’d felt seeing Frank with the bimbo at the yard, how she was feeling a little insecure over how she looked because she’d once upon a time been that groomed, perfect looking person. And the more she talked, the more tumbled out about how she felt sometimes that Frank was way out of her league before Bonnie shook her head and cut her off.

“Are you listening to yourself?” She scoffed. “Jesus Christ, I haven’t heard anyone talk this much shit since Simon told me he was gonna run a marathon.”

“Hey, you asked what was wrong.” Fliss looked at her, her temper flashing a little. “I’m just telling you!”

“Yeah, and I’m just telling you, you’re a fucking moron.” Bonnie shook her head. “Fliss, you’re beautiful. Honestly, like, if I have kids and end up with your figure after, I’ll be over the moon. But that aside, Frank loves YOU. Not the way you look, or the way your hair is styled, or the way your eyebrows are painted on, he loves you.”

“I know.” Fliss nodded, sniffing a little. “I know he does, and I know he’d never cheat on me, I get that. I just, oh I don’t know, I don’t know why I feel like this. I can’t explain it.”

Bonnie side eyed Fliss as she topped her glass up before she sat down at the table, taking a deep breath. “Do you think this has anything to do with your ex?”

Fliss frowned, shaking her head. “Why would you think that?”

“Well, you told me he used to put you down about how you looked, compared you to other women he, well, fucked behind your back.” Bonnie trailed off. “I don’t know, I was just thinking maybe that deep in your mind, you kinda still think you should have a face caked in make-up and boobs pushed up to your chin.”

Fliss gave a snort at Bonnie’s description before she shrugged. “I don’t feel like that, not really. I’ve never bothered about anything like that whilst I’ve been with Frank. But something about her just pissed me off, more so because she was doing it right there in my own back fucking yard.” Fliss took another slug of wine before she bit her lip. “Maybe you’re right, maybe it’s because she reminds me of that past life.” She tapped her nails against her glass. “But, I was fucking miserable, and now I’m not, so why would I even bother about some bimbo flirting with my man? It’s not like he did anything or was gonna.”

“So, basically, we’ve come to the conclusion that this woman is a tramp and you’re an idiot.” Bonnie nodded and despite herself, Fliss laughed.

“Yeah, sounds about right.”

“Hmm,” Bonnie sipped her wine. “Okay, I’m glad we got that sorted.” She took another sip before she gently reached out and squeezed Fliss hand. “You got nothing to worry about. Frank adores you, to be honest, me and Simon always say it’s kinda gross the way he’s always like looking at you with stupid doe eyes or touching you whenever he can.”

Fliss smiled, a fond look crossing her face as she knew what Bonnie was saying was true. Any chance Frank got he would touch or cuddle her, and it was never in a dominant way like it had been with John, it was because he simply wanted to, it was his love language. “Yeah, he’s touchy.”

Bonnie smiled and sat back as Fliss took a deep breath. “But you should talk to him, tell him how you feel.”

Fliss shrugged. “Maybe, like you said, I’m being an idiot.” She gave her friend another smile before she nodded back towards the laptop. “But, now for the fun stuff. Show me what you got planned for our weekend of debauchery in Miami, Maid Of Honor!”

**** It was a little before ten when Fliss called Frank to say she was ready for pick up if he still wanted to come get her, which was a dumb question, because of course he did. He packed the kids into the car, and drove the fifteen minutes or so to Bonnie’s and Fliss clambered into the passenger seat, her cheeks flushed a little from the wine. After giving him a quick kiss, she turned to smile at Mary who beamed at her, her head torch already in position, Thor’s flashing light up collar sitting pretty around his neck as he perched in the middle seat between her and Alex who was in the baby chair, fast asleep.

They drove down to the Public Access, the same stretch of beach they would be married on in a matter of weeks, and all climbed out, Frank gently settling Alex in the carrier that hung over his chest before he offered Fliss his hand and they headed onto the moonlit sand. They walked in silence for a while, the air finally cooled enough to be enjoyable, Mary running ahead of them, Thor gambolling in and out of the waves, giving a little bark of enjoyment as he chased the surf.

“He’s gonna be soaked when he gets back in the truck.” Frank groaned and Fliss laughed.

“Should have come in mine, he could have sat in the trunk.”

“He can ride home on the flatbed.”

“Don’t you dare.” Fliss nudged Frank with her elbow and he chuckled, his arm sliding round her shoulder as he pressed a kiss to her head.

“You gonna tell me what’s bothering you now?” Frank asked as they continued to stroll up the beach.

“Nothing.”

“Lissy.” Frank spoke sternly and stopped to face her. She let out a sigh, her hand reaching up to smooth over Alex’s hair as he lay slumped against his dad’s chest.

“I’m being an idiot, I know that. But seeing you before, at the yard I just…”

It was Frank’s turn to sigh as he shook his head. “Honey, I-“

“No, I know what you’re gonna say but, I just, well, she was there looking like a fucking model and then there was me, and I used to be that size, and I used to be that person, that looked half decent, you know? I can’t remember the last time I actually wore any form of make-up bar a bit of tinted moisturiser or mascara, or when I last straightened my hair, let alone painted on my damned eyebrows! And then she’s flirting with you flashing her perfect teeth, and her perfect fake boobs and her line free brow and plump lips, all full of fillers and botox and-“

“You want Botox?” Frank cut her off mid rant and Fliss let out a groan.

“No I don’t want fucking Botox, Frank!”

“Well shut up talking about it then!” He laughed. “Look, I don’t want that fake shit either. Do I look like the type of guy who wants someone who is just one step away from being a Malibu Barbie? Fuck that!”

“You look like the type of guy who should want a Malibu Barbie.” Fliss replied, somewhat sullenly. “You don’t see the looks you get every time we go out.”

Frank rolled his eyes. “Whatever. You know, girls like that are ten a penny down on the boardwalk. But you’re the one I took sailing.” “Thanks a backhanded compliment.” Fliss narrowed her eyes and Frank laughed, cupping her face in his hands.

“Look, Sweetheart, I love you.” He shrugged simply. “Because you’re beautiful, inside and out and because you’re my Lissy.” He pulled her face up to meet his, placing a soft kiss to her lips, his nose sliding against hers.

“I know, I’m sorry.” She sighed. “I wasn’t mad at you, just feeling a little low I suppose.”

“You know I get it too.” Frank smiled, dropping his hands to take hers. “You think I don’t notice the looks you get when we go out?”

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do.” Frank assured her as he entwined their fingers together. “But I don’t care. Because I know you’re mine, and I’m yours. So please don’t think for a second I’d even think about anyone else that way.”

He dropped a soft, slow, deep kiss to her lips and when she pulled back, she smiled.

“Sorry, I know, I was being an idiot.”

“Yeah.” He nodded in agreement and she chuckled as he returned his arm to round her shoulders and they continued walking, the sound of the waves against the shore a perfect back drop to Mary’s excited shouts and Thor’s little barks.

“When you said you said you wouldn’t think about anyone…” She started and Frank was pleased to note her voice was full of mischief, his playful Lissy was back.

“Well,” he wrinkled his nose, shrugging a little, “maybe if Rihanna came knocking then I’d have to give it some serious consideration.”

“To be fair I’d give it some serious consideration, too.” Fliss mused and Frank arched a brow, teasingly as he looked down at her.

“Yeah?”

“Damned straight. I’d do her, she’s hot.” Fliss shrugged and Frank’s face split into a dirty grin as he stopped them both, using the arm round her shoulder to spin her into him as best he could with their son placed between them.

“Now there’s an image!” His voice was loaded with suggestiveness and Fliss laughed as his lips brushed hers.

“Pervert.” She whispered, her hand once more sweeping over the back of their sleeping baby’s head.

“Only for you.” He smiled, before he looked up, considering something. “And Rihanna.”

**** Chapter 25

#riding on #frank adler #frank adler x ofc #frank adler x original female character #frank adler fanfiction #gifted #gifted fan fic #chris evans #chris evans characters

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jaskierswolf · 4 years

Text

The Grass is Greener Pt.3/3

CW: More shitty parents...

Dinner was an absolute nightmare. The food itself was delicious. They ordered from the lovely little Italian place in town that was one of Jaskier’s favourites for board game night with his housemates. Geralt and Jaskier both ordered pizza, which was the totally normal thing to do when ordering takeaway. His mother ordered sea bass with new potatoes, spinach and mediterranean vegetables.

Ciri was snoring quietly in her pram. Geralt had popped home to get it whilst they were waiting for the food as Ciri threw a bit of a tantrum when they’d tried to get her back into her carry cot.

They were eating on the patio table. Jaskier had insisted. They had spent over two hours trying to clear up the garden and his mother was going to fucking appreciate it, seeing as she’d found every reason to pull apart his house.

The carpet was the wrong colour, the oven was shit, his bedroom was a mess (it wasn’t), the bathroom stank even through the jammy door (it kind of did, thanks Regis), the windows were filthy, there were too many beds…

It went on and on and on.

Geralt, who was supposed to be helping to charm his darling mother, was just glaring at her across the table. Jaskier was trying to joke and make awkward conversation but the tension was just too much. He couldn’t do this. Everything he said was met was snide comments from his mother, who’s current favourite topic was Geralt being a single father, because how could Jaskier ever be good enough to help raise a child. Geralt didn’t once defend himself against his mother’s remarks which Jaskier found infuriating but he was immensely glad that Geralt was there to serve as a buffer. He was struggling to remember how he coped in past years without Geralt’s assistance. How on earth had he managed this battle on his own every year?

Geralt had held his hand throughout the entire dinner, which was both amazing and really awkward when it came to eating. Luckily pizza didn’t require a knife and fork. Occasionally, Geralt would lean in to kiss his cheek or brush Jaskier’s fringe from his eyes. Jaskier hadn’t known what to expect from fake dating Geralt. He’d assumed that he would be the better actor out of the two of them, but his mother was throwing him off and Geralt seemed to have slipped into the role as if he were born to love Jaskier, and didn’t that just make him feel all giddy?

Still he could do without the death glares being shot towards his mother whenever she said… well, anything really.

“Geralt. A word, please.” He said firmly, squeezing Geralt’s hand and standing up.

Geralt grunted and turned to flee into the house. Jaskier sighed. “Mother, can you watch Ciri?”

His mother nodded and stabbed at the poor dead fish on her plate. He nodded back and ran into the house.

“Geralt!” He called after his neighbour.

Geralt was now the one pacing in the living room. “What the fuck is her problem?”

Jaskier frowned. Why was he so angry? It wasn’t as if they were actually dating…

Jaskier shrugged and tapped out a rhythm on his leg with his fingers as he tried to recap an entire lifetime of terrible parenting as quickly as possible. “I’ve always been the problem child, according to my parents. I came out when I was sixteen after years of running around in my sister’s high heels and dresses. Mother and Father didn’t exactly welcome the news and proceeded to ignore it until I left for uni. When I said I was going to study music they all but kicked me out the house. Apparently being bi was tolerable but not having a ‘proper’ career was a step too far. After uni, I sofa-surfed for a few years until Pris suggested we all get a house together, that’s when Regis practically adopted us and… well… here we are. Present day.”

Geralt put a hand on his shoulder and then pulled him into a hug.

Jaskier yelped, surprised by the sudden show of affection. “Geralt?” He mumbled against Geralt’s chest, trying to ignoring the blooming love in his heart.

“You don’t deserve that.” He grumbled. “Any of that.”

Jaskier pulled back and furrowed his brow. “Yeah, and how would you know?”

Geralt… blushed?

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked, cupping Geralt’s cheek.

“When you moved in you made me cupcakes.” Geralt mumbled.

Jaskier stared in shock at the man in front of him. He’d forgotten about that. They’d been a complete mess and the icing had leaked all over the bottom of the box, but they’d still been edible and Geralt had insisted that Jaskier stay for a cup of tea to try them.

It had just been Geralt in the house at the time. He’d still been waiting for the paperwork to be finalised to be approved as a potential adoptive parent and the house had seemed so empty. It was the same size as Jaskier’s and Jaskier shared with four other people, well, three others and Valdo Marx. Apparently, Geralt had come into some money following a death of a family friend and he’d been able to afford a family sized home. Jaskier had just seen the hot guy next door and decided to spontaneously make cupcakes in a half-baked attempt, pun intended, to get laid. It hadn’t worked and Jaskier had settled for pining for his hot neighbour instead.

How had he forgotten about that?

“Geralt.” He breathed.

“And when I got the flu you came round with groceries and made soup.” Geralt added.

Jaskier swallowed nervously. “I was worried about you. You hadn’t left the house for days and I don’t think I’d even seen you miss a day of work before. You leave every morning like clockwork.”

“You’re a great person, Jaskier.” Geralt chuckled almost nervously, in a way that was making Jaskier’s heart run far too fast in his chest. “And seeing you with Ciri, Jask, you’re incredible.”

Jaskier scoffed trying to calm the torrent of feelings in his poor bisexual heart. “This fake dating is getting to your head, Geralt.”

Geralt hummed and pulled away from him. “Right.”

“Can you please just try and get along with my mother until I can send her off to the hotel room she inevitably booked so she doesn’t have to stay with us, me, with me.” Jaskier stumbled over his words. “Please?”

“Then we can get the pictures for Yen and I’ll be out of your hair.” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier laughed nervously. Why did that suddenly sound like a death sentence?

God, he was already addicted to Geralt being in his life.

“Right.” He mumbled.

They both sulked back outside to the patio where his mother was cooing at baby Ciri in her pram.

Jaskier turned to face Geralt who had a matching confused expression on his face.

“Geralt, she is just the cutest.” His mother cooed.

“What the…” Jaskier muttered.

“Thank you, Mrs Pankratz.” Geralt said slowly, as if he didn’t trust his words.

His mother bopped the young girl on the nose then turned up to look between Geralt and Jaskier. “Now then, what’s up with you two? Julian, don’t tell me you’ve managed to ruin your relationship with this young man already!” She snapped.

Jaskier gaped. What the fuck?

This wasn’t his life.

Dear god this wasn’t his life.

Geralt wrapped his arm around Jaskier’s waist pulling Jaskier towards him and placing a kiss on Jaskier’s temple. Jaskier’s heart fluttered in his chest he couldn’t help but lean into Geralt’s embrace.

“Not at all.” Geralt said in his lovely deep voice that made Jaskier’s insides turn to goo.

“Geralt was just worried about me.” Jaskier chimed, the fake smile back on his face. “All sorted now.”

“Worried?” His mother scoffed and then turned to give Ciri a smile that, if Jaskier didn’t know better, would have been described as motherly. “Whatever for?”

Geralt smiled too sweetly. It looked wrong on his face. Jaskier gulped and looked between them. “He’s tried so hard to make you proud, Mrs Pankratz and you have not been kind. As his guest you should be grateful that he’s invited you into his home. Yet everything he does is flawed in your eyes. Makes me wonder, is there something wrong with your eyes? Because your son is… he’s one of the best people that I’ve had the pleasure to meet.”

“Excuse me?!” Jaskier’s mother shrieked and Jaskier decided it would be rather lovely if a big hole would just open up under his feet right.

“And yet, you look at my daughter as if she is an angel.” Geralt growled.

“Oh well. She is rather amazing.” Jaskier mumbled.

“If only you had treated your son with the same respect, maybe we could have gotten along better.” Geralt carried on as if Jaskier hadn’t said a word.

“You have no right!” His mother pointed at Geralt. “No right!”

Geralt shrugged. “Perhaps, but Jaskier was too good to say what needed to be said.”

“Geralt, love.” Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s hand, probably too hard. “You promised.”

Geralt closed his eyes and growled. “Jaskier, I can’t just sit here and listen to her bullshit.”

“Why not?” Jaskier pouted. “I’ve done it for years. One day, Geralt, you had to do it for one fucking day. Why couldn’t you?”

“Because I love you!” Geralt snapped.

Jaskier froze and stared at Geralt.

It was an act.

It was all an act.

Except…. what if it wasn’t?

Jaskier lunged forwards and pulled Geralt into a bruising kiss. He needed to, he needed Geralt like he needed the oxygen in the air. He’d been pining after this man for a year and hearing those words, fake or otherwise, it was too much. He felt a prick of tears in his eyes and he sniffed.

“Oh bollocks.” He mumbled against Geralt’s lips. “Fuck, Geralt, you made me cry. You bastard.”

Geralt pulled back to stare intently into Jaskier’s eyes, searching for the answer to some unasked question. “Jask?”

He sniffed and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I love you too, Geralt.”

Geralt brushed his thumb across Jaskier’s cheek and laughed. “You promised you wouldn’t.”

Jaskier snorted. “You promised to be nice to my mother.” He countered.

They both ignored the squeak of protest from the woman in question.

Geralt scoffed. “Some promises are worth breaking.”

“Can someone please explain, what is going on here?” His mother snapped, causing the girl in her arms to start screaming again.

Jaskier gave Geralt another chaste kiss and winked before turning to face his mother with his hands on his hips.

“Mother, dearest. Please return Ciri to her father and kindly fuck off.” He sneered.

“You can’t talk to me that way!” She protested as Ciri was pulled from her arms.

Jaskier tilted his head. “Oh ho ho! I think I can. You!” He pointed at her. “Kicked me out, or do you not remember that lovely little detail?”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m really not. Now as wonderful as all this has been. You should know that this house is not just mine, I live here with my friends.” He snorted. “As if I could afford the rent on a house like this on my own, Geralt here, is not my boyfriend—”

“Yet.” Geralt added with a smirk.

“—Yet.” Jaskier agreed and winked at Geralt. “He agreed to help after spending over two hours mowing the lawn because it was so overgrown it resembled a small forest. The only reason he helped was because I have no idea how to actually do basic gardening tasks because I am terrible at anything that isn’t music and writing.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt growled.

“Oh and falling in love with my incredible gorgeous neighbour before he even asked me out on a date. It’s an oddly specific talent but has served me remarkably well, I think.”

“Julian!” His mother gasped.

“Oh and I did babysit Ciri a few times, but get this… I didn’t even ask for money!” He laughed at the shock on her face. “I did it because Geralt asked me to and she’s actually rather cute.”

“I can’t listen to this.” His mother started to head back to the front door.

Jaskier was absolutely fucking delighted! Oh he should have done this years ago! He should never have let the woman back into his life. It had only hurt him, but then again would he have tried to fix the garden without her? Would he have ever worked up the courage to ask Geralt out?

Probably not…

He scoffed.

She would hate that he had only gotten a boyfriend because of her meddling.

“I’m leaving!” She called over her shoulder as she stormed out the front door.

“Thank fuck for that!” Jaskier waved after her and then turned to go back in the house.

He almost ran straight into Geralt who was stood right behind him with Ciri in one arm.

Thirteen years he’d put up with his mother’s torture. More than that if you counted the years before he’d come out. All that time trying to be someone he wasn’t just to please her when he could have just left her and his shitty family behind.

Why had he’d been so scared?

Geralt pulled him into a hug and kissed his hair with a hum.

Jaskier scowled as the thought hit him. “Geralt?”

“Hmm.”

“Did you really mean it?” He asked as he rested his head on Geralt’s chest, listening to his heartbeat.

“Yeah. Did you?” Geralt pulled back so they could see each other’s faces.

Jaskier laughed and cupped Geralt’s face in his hands. “Oh, dear heart, I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

Geralt tilted his head and glanced down at Ciri. “And you don’t mind, about Ciri?”

Jaskier giggled.

“Geralt, darling.” He kissed his new boyfriend chastely and then crossed his arms, putting on his best scary Geralt face. “The child must not be an obstacle.”

Geralt shoved him and he fell over laughing, as Geralt stalked back into the living room.

“I regret nothing!” He called after Geralt before scrambling to his feet and chasing after his grumpy, and still insanely hot neighbour/boyfriend.

________

More witcher fun!

#the witcher #geraskier #geralt of rivia #jaskier pankratz #geralt x jaskier #jaskier x geralt #geraskier fanfiction #geralt/jaskier #fake dating #the grass is greener #geralt #jaskier #wolfie's witcher writing

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pengy-pop · 4 years

Text

Unfinished Writing #1: Bederia

Context for this piece was to be mostly a headcanon romp and to show of what the dynamic of my own interpretation of adult years Bederia would be like. It got to be too long and had not much happening in it, and When I realised I didn’t know exactly where I wanted to go with it; I got unfortunately bored of it rather quickly.

But, I hope you’re maybe able to find something interesting in here, anyway!

enjoy!

Gloria was having a bad day.

It started the moment she woke up that morning to find that her boltund had gotten into her pokefood supplies at some point during the night and, after gorging themselves on around a quarter of the giant bag of food meant to feed six pokemon for 5 weeks; had then proceeded to regurgitate it all up in her bathroom and was forced to clean it up and make sure the criminal boltund was alright at around six o’clock in the morning. She dropped her shower head on her foot while taking her morning shower and slipped and fell on the tiles while picking it up, and she knew she was going to be seeing a nasty bruise somewhere on her body later because of it.

Then, as she was preparing her breakfast; she found out the weather forcasted for rain and thunderstorms; on the day she was supposed to be meeting up with her friends for a long-awaited lunch they’d been planning at one of their regular spots. She accidentally burnt her toast while thinking about it, and dropped an egg on the floor while she was trying to cook two.

Then, she had gotten the call from Hop.

“Uh, so, me and Marnie won’t be able to make it to lunch today.” Hop’s voice was hesitant, fast, and apologetic; and Gloria swallowed thickly as she heard loud noises in the background of the call.

“How come? Did something happen?” There was a stern female voice in the background, followed by a loud crash, and Gloria winced.

Morpeko must be having another outburst.

“Yeahhh, you could say that, mate. Just-uh-I’m really sorry, Gloria, If we can get this solved quickly I can-”

“No, no, it’s okay! It sounds like theres a lot happening there. Did you two…Need any extra help?” She chewed her bottom lip, anxiously. Hop’s answer was immediate.

“No! No, it’s alright! You just go on ahead without us! Tell, uh—Tell Bede we said hey; and—oh, right—ask him if he’s planning on RSVP’ing anytime soon, we need to finalise our numbers.” Gloria nodded, before realising Hop wouldn’t be able to see her answer.

“Sure; and you’re absolutely sure you guys don’t need any help?” A hiss was heard.

“Positive, Gloria. Besides, you know how annoying Bede gets when plans change suddenly. I gotta go, but i’ll call you later, okay?”

“Alright, good luck calming Morpeko.” Hop snorted on the other line, and she could practically hear the grin in his voice.

“Thanks, mate! Catch you later! Sorry again!” As soon as he hung up; Gloria felt her stomach twist with a sick emotion she’d found herself becoming all-too-familiar with lately, and, with a defeated sigh, she collapsed back onto her couch, mindlessely flicking on the tv for white noise.

Gloria prayed that the rest of her day wasn’t as awful as her morning was.

—————————

The rest of the day wasn’t much better.

After later sending Bede a message of the change of plans; she stepped in a large puddle almost as soon as she exited her apartment complex, splashing water over herself, leaving her legs cold and wet as she made her way to the cafe. She shook off her umbrella, stepping inside, and was greeted by a waiter and an indeedee; who escorted her to a booth seat after she gave them her reservation name.

A booth meant to fit four people.

With a heavy sigh, Gloria all but collapsed down onto the seat, letting her head fall back against the cushioned seat. As she turned her head to look out to the rainy street, unsurprisingly bustling despite the rain. While normally Gloria would be eager to see her friends, she was, instead, thankful that Bede wasn’t there yet.

It wasn’t because she hated Bede though, or anything of the sort, really. In fact; her problem wasn’t that she wanted to be away from him; it was that whenever she was around him, she wanted him alarmingly close. It was something she could handle if they were surrounded by others, usually; since there were others to distract her; but when it was just the two of them, alone, it became much more troublesome. She’d become hyper-aware of his presence at all times, any time he’d look her in the eyes or say her name she would find herself heating up, stomach would fill with butterflies, her fingers would twitch and frequently find she wanted to shove herself into his personal space. Wanted to grab his face in her hands and Do something.

She wasn’t sure what, exactly, she would even do, though. Pinch his cheeks, maybe? contort his mouth into an awkward smile like she used to do when they were kids?

….Kiss him?

Gloria exhaled, closing her eyes. There had come a certain point in Gloria’s life where she had to admit to herself that, yes, she did have a crush on Bede. It had just hit her one day, when they were talking together during a camping trip with Hop and Marnie. the latter were off cooking while her and Bede had sat together, playing with their pokemon and idly debating over something. It was a little heated, sure, but most of their conversations were; and they were having fun, nonetheless. Mid-debate; Gloria’s boltund had bounded up to Bede with a happy huff and plopped themselves down right on his lap, bringing a pause to their conversation as Bede looked down at the dog, then Gloria, with an expression halfway between bewildermant and offense. She had laughed, and he had let out an indignant huff; before he relaxed and, surprising her, he reached down to scratch behind the dog’s ears. And she wasn’t sure what exactly it was; but all to quickly, her world had come crashing down on top of her and all that was left in her brain as she watched her boltund melt into Bede’s touch and he, in turn, let out a sound; a gentle, amused sigh; his face soft in a way she’d only ever seen a few rare times; was four words.

“Oh. I like him.”

And; well, really, it had all just been downhill from there for Gloria. Her fondness for him only grew; and Slowly, over the years, he’d been letting her in more and more, letting her see far beyond what was on the surface.

She found him endearing; despite everything. Deeply flawed, but endearing nonetheless. However, she wasn’t sure where to even begin when it came to approaching Bede about the subject. He had never expressed much desire or interest in pursuing any sort of romantic relationship. At least, none that she herself had ever seen. And Bede was, to put it simply, a very private and closed-off person, and much like a stray cat; one wrong move and he’d be spooked off; potentially forever; and that was the last thing she wanted to happen.

But, oh did she want to love him so badly. There was so much she wanted. She wanted to talk and laugh with Bede, hold his hand in hers; hug him and not be shoved unceremoniously off him, she wanted to kiss him all over his face and instead of him grimacing, she wanted him to smile and kiss her back. She’d like to spend the night with him, eating dinner with him, having those conversations with him that always somehow seemed to devolve into semi-heated debates because their differing ideas until they both inevitably passed out together.

Gloria was so deep in her pining for Bede that it was frustrating her now; because as much as she just wanted to blurt out how she felt, she knew that it would lead to nothing good. She’d always made the mistake of running her mouth; hell, she STILL frequently made that mistake, but this was the one thing she wasn’t completely willing to let fall apart in front of her. No, she’d come too far with Bede at this point and she outright refused to lose his friendship. So for once in her life; she would bite down on her tongue.

Because she’s not quite sure she could handle losing Bede from her life; no matter how frustrating it was for her to swallow how much she felt for him.

There was a noise, and she felt something on her shoulder, shaking her. Gloria eyes snapped open, her vision blurry for a few moments as they readjusted to the light flooding in again as she looked around, confused.

How long had she been zoning out? Had she fallen asleep?

“Ah, there you are. Rather unwise of you to fall asleep in a public place like this, Gloria.” Gloria’s eyes fell on Bede, standing beside her booth, shiny spritzee hovering around him out of the corner of her eye as she caught the last moments of him removing his hand from her shoulder, and she stared dumbly up at him for a few seconds.

Oh. Bede was here now.

“You’re here.” Bede scoffed, shaking his head as he took his seat across from her in the booth.

“Astute observation.” His eyes fell on her for a brief moment as he reached for the menu that sat in front of him. “I apologise for my being tardy. the weather caused some delays.”

“You were late?” She scrambled for her rotom phone; and, sure enough, he was about fifteen minutes late. “Oh. It’s okay. I didn’t even notice.”

“Of course you didn’t; you were passed out. I doubt you even received my message.” Gloria switched to her messaging app. Oh. He had left her a message earlier, stating that he may be arriving late.

“Ah. Oops.” Bede hummed non-committedly in return, looking over the menu; his left hand over his mouth in that stupidly endearing thoughtful pose of his.

“I take you haven’t even ordered yet?” Gloria realised she hadn’t even picked up the menu herself yet, and she fumbled to do so, her face feeling familarly warm and her palms beginning to sweat.

“Nope. Was waiting for you.” It didn’t take her long to decide on what she wanted; and Bede didn’t respond; so she instead took that time to look at Bede across from her as his focus lay on his own menu.

There was something different…

She squinted, leaning forward a bit. There was definitely something different about him. Bede took notice of her expression, lilac eyes flicking up to her, confusion knitted his features.

“What on earth are you staring at—”

“—Did you get a haircut?” Bede’s eyes widened a little, and Gloria knew she’d hit the nail on the head. She leaned back again into her chair, smiling. Truthfully, it wasn’t a big change. She had just noticed that he had gotten his curls trimmed a little on the nape of his neck. But it looked nice on him, regardless.

“I…yes, I did, actually.” His eyes flicked away from her, and Gloria’s smile grew wider. “I’m rather surprised you noticed, actually. You’re the first one to do so today.”

“‘Course I noticed! Looks good; looks handsome!” Bede’s face snapped immediately snapped back to look at hers, his eyes wide and shocked; and Gloria would have slapped herself right then if she could have.

“—For, uh, you know! It’s—uh, appropriate! Like—like Ballonlea’s gym leader ‘ought look good, right? Opal always used to say presentation was important, yeah?” She fumbled through her words, and she could feel the eyes of both Bede and his spritzee on her. His Spritzee, in particular, hovered over her, her bright yellow eyes staring straight through her. “I…I just think you look…nice…” Her words peetered out pathetically as she sunk a little into her seat. Bede’s gaze upon her was incredulous; and she would have normally delighted in the way his pale cheeks were flushed red if she wasn’t so embarrassed herself. After what felt like a century; Bede finally looked away from her, clearing his throat awkawrdly.

“…Right. Well; shall we order?” Gloria nodded fervently as she lifted her hand to hail down a waiter. As the two ordered their food and drinks, Bede went off on a tangent about his most recent auditions at Ballonlea, and Gloria sat and listened to his every haughty, smug word, thankful that he hadn’t chosen to comment further on her earlier stumble.

———————

It was halfway through her meal, and after she’d taken a much-too-large bite of her sandwich, that Gloria remembered what Hop had asked of her that morning. Her cheeks too stuffed to say anything, Gloria instead waved her hand in front of Bede’s face to get his attention.

“Mmf—Hey, Bede—”

“Chew and swallow before speaking, Gloria; you’re not a toddler.” He scrunched up his nose in that cute way he always did as he looked at her with mild disgust. Gloria rolled her eyes; but did take a moment longer to actually chew and swallow her mouthful. With and exhale, she quickly took a gulp of her drink, ignoring the sigh of disappointment that Bede, and finally turned back up to look at him again.

“Hop wanted to know if you were gonna RSVP for the wedding or not.” The mention of the wedding caused Bede to tense, and he carefully put down his utensils.

“I…Haven’t yet made a decision.”

“Why not? S’not like you’re the one getting married.”

“Yes, but Gloria what you don’t understand is that I do not particularly want to attend their wedding.”

“Why? They’re our friends; we should be there on their big day.” Bede opened his mouth to say something, but Gloria continued. “—And they ARE both of our friends, we are PAST trying to deny this.” Bede closed his mouth again with a sigh. “—So theres really no reason for you to have put it off for so long.”

#Pengy Squawks #Pengy Writes #Bederia #dressedinpinkshipping #unfinished works

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abundanceofsoph · 4 years

Text

SkyFire 2: Chapter 2

Harry’s Birthday & Wedding Planning: February 2016

Word count: 2.4k

PART 1

SkyFire 2 MASTERLIST

>Instagram posts

Following her breakdown in the studio, Steve and Tony both accompanied Aurora to the hospital to get her hand x-rayed the next day. It turned out she had split open the most recent incision but given the fact that she would be back the following week for more surgery, Dr Walker opted to close the wound with steri-strips instead of more stitches. She got a small lecture about being more careful and as soon as they returned home, Sam was waiting for them. Aurora walked with him down the hall towards her private living room in silence.

“So, what happened yesterday?” Sam asked after the sat down.

“I’m sure you know already,” Aurora replied. “Dad would have told you everything.”

“He did but I was hoping to hear your side of it,” Sam said.

“I don’t know Sam.” She huffed out a breath, tucking her hair behind her ear as she collected her thoughts. “I finally went downstairs, and I started painting for the first time since the shooting…”

“That sounds like a good thing,” Sam said. “What went wrong?”

“I kept knocking the paint over,” Rori sighed. “And it just felt wrong, like I was off balance or something. I’m right handed so I didn’t really think I needed my left hand to paint but I guess I use it more than I realised. Any way I got frustrated and then I just lost all motivation for the work, so I left and went down the hall to the recording studio, but that was so much worse.”

“How so?” Sam prompted when she didn’t seem to want to continue.

“For as long as I can remember, music has been everything,” Rori tried to explain. “When I had nothing, I had music. When mum died, I wrote about it, and when I moved here, I wrote about it. Playing the piano, writing songs, it’s what I do. My art is all if have. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do with my life and yesterday I couldn’t do any of it. I got so angry Sam. I just got so angry and there was nothing I could do to channel that, so I just blew up.”

“And you trashed the studio,” Sam finished.

“I did,” Rori mumbled. “I don’t know what I do now Sam.”

“Would it help if we got a clearer picture from your surgeon?” he asked. “Maybe a firmer timeframe of when she excepts you to be able to do certain things again? We could work out a clear plan of what surgeries and physically therapies are needed to get you where you want to be. Maybe having some milestones to work towards will help.”

“I think I’d really like that,” Aurora agreed. “I’ve got another surgery next week when Harry and I get back from London and then I’ll have my check-up appointment 2 weeks after that. I could probably discuss the long term plan at the follow-up, but could you maybe come with me?”

“Of course, I’ll come with you,” Sam said. “When do you leave for London?”

“Tomorrow afternoon, but I can feel Dad gearing up to fight me on it. After yesterday I can’t really blame him for freaking out this time, but if I spend one more day moping around the tower, I’m going to lose it again.”

“Why don’t I talk to him about this trip being a good thing while you go for a run in the park to clear your head?”

“I would really appreciate you talking to him,” Aurora admitted, “and a run sounds perfect right now.

They both stood back up and Sam wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly against him for a few long minutes, before he left to go talk to Tony. As he walked away, Rori went to change into her active wear.

xXx

It was late by the time Aurora’s flight arrived at Heathrow, and she ordered an uber for the 45 minute ride to Harry’s north London house. He was waiting up for her and the moment the car pulled up to the curb he was out the front door to grab her bag. He wrapped his arm around her shoulders as they walked into the house.

“How was your flight?” he asked while she kicked off her shoes and hung her coat in the hall closet.

“Exhausting,” Rori sighed. “Mind if we just go straight to bed?”

“Of course, love,” Harry replied, taking her hand in his as he carried her bag up the stairs towards the bedroom. She barely kept her eyes open long enough to change out of her clothes and brush her teeth before she collapsed into his bed and snuggled up against him.

xXx

Aurora woke up well before Harry given that she was still running on New York time. She quietly slipped from the bed and padded downstairs to the kitchen, starting a pot of coffee before pulling out what she needed from the fridge. She had an omelette in the skillet in front her and the smell of freshly brewed coffee was in the air when she heard Harry shuffle into the kitchen behind her.

“Morning,” he mumbled his voice low and gruff with sleep.

“Damn,” Rori chuckled. “Was trying to get this finished before you woke up so I could bring it up to you. Happy Birthday baby.” She skipped over to him, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him deeply. Harry hummed into the kiss, his hands slipping lower as he licked at her lower lip and she opened her mouth to him. “Omelette’s gonna burn if you don’t stop groping my butt,” she murmured against his lips when they pulled apart.

“Let it burn,” Harry groaned, chasing after her lips as she pulled away from him. She giggled when he refused to let her go.

“Harry,” she whined. “At least move us over to the stove if you won’t let go.”

He did as he was told, shuffling them through the kitchen, turning her in his arms until he plastered along her back. She managed to salvage the omelette before it completely burned, sliding it onto a plate and bending over to pull the other one from the oven where she’d placed it to keep it warm. Harry chuckled darkly when she bent over, squeezing her hips when she pushed back against his pelvis.

“None of that mister,” she chided. “Breakfast first, then we can fool around.”

He pouted but took the plates she held out to him, moving over to the kitchen table as she made their coffees before joining him. The moment they’d finished eating Aurora squealed as she was scooped up into Harry’s arms and carried off towards the bedroom.

xXx

They headed into the city as it started to get dark, meeting Harry’s family and some of his friends at a little Chinese restaurant in SoHo. They were shown to a large round table and Aurora quickly hugged Louis, Niall and Liam before she sat down next to Harry with Gemma sitting on her left and Anne on Harry’s right. Conversation flowed easily as the food was brought out and Aurora swiped one of Harry’s spring rolls from his plate.

“Oi!” he gasped, jabbing his chopsticks at her, causing her to giggle and lean over to kiss his cheek. “You’re bloody lucky you’re so cute,” he told her.

After the meal, a waiter brought out a tray of cupcakes with candles lit and the table erupted into a terrible rendition of Happy Birthday. Aurora took a few photos with her phone before Harry blew out the candles and then divvied the cupcakes up around the table.

“How long are you in town for this time?” Gemma asked after they’d finished off the cupcakes.

“Just a few days,” Rori replied. “We’re meeting with our wedding planner to go over some things, but I need to be back in New York by the end of the week.”

“How’s the wedding planning going?”

“Really well, we’ve got the venue, caterer, photographer and the cake all organised already. I had a lot of spare time on my hands after the proposal, so I really got stuck into it all last year.”

“What are you getting done this week then?” Gemma asked.

“We’re doing another walk through at the venue to finalise layout and decide on decorations, colour schemes, all of that.”

“I know the boys have their suits sorted already but we’ll have to start shopping for dresses soon,” Gemma pointed out, an excited smile on her face. “I’m honestly so excited to be Harry’s Best Woman. I really wasn’t expecting him to ask me.”

“Are you kidding me Gem?” Rori laughed. “There’s no one else he would have asked. Especially after I called dibs on Louis being my Man of Honour.” The two girls burst out laughing, drawing Harry’s attention away from his conversion.

“Why am I suddenly nervous?” he asked, looking between his sister and fiancé who were both still giggling.

“Just discussing the bridal party,” Rori said, kissing Harry’s cheek.

“And the fact that you stole my best man?” Harry asked.

“I’m feeling so wanted,” Gemma joked. “And you’re not really that annoyed about it, admit it. You’d give her anything she asked for.”

“I really would,” Harry replied, leaning into kiss Aurora, his hand cupping her cheek as he smiled into the kiss.

“Oi! No snogging at the table!” Louis yelled from across the room, throwing a wadded up napkin at the pair, Niall laughing hysterically when he hit Harry in the side of the head.

“It’s my birthday so if I wanna kiss my fiancé, then I will,” Harry replied before returning to the kiss. Aurora broke away from the kiss in a fit of giggles as Liam and Louis started to boo them.

They all said their goodnights not too much later, and Aurora promised to call Gemma soon to organise a time to go dress shopping with Ella and Lottie soon.

xXx

After breakfast the following morning, they both pulled on their winter coats and walked from Harry’s Hampstead house across the Heath towards the Hill Gardens. They met their wedding planner Rebecca and a member of the grounds team at the Pergola and followed them inside. Even in winter, the place was absolutely beautiful, and Aurora was smiling brightly as they were shown around. Becca pointed out where they could have an arch placed for them to stand under and where the chairs would be placed.

“It’s perfect Harry,” Rori whispered after they had wandered the space for a little while. “I’m so glad we decided on here.”

“And just imagine it with the spring flowers,” he added, wrapping his arms around her as they gazed around the space.

“Well I think we’re good to go,” Becca said, walking back towards the couple after speaking with the staff. “Rori you’ve given me pretty clear design ideas, so I’ll get all the furnishings confirmed and send you through the photos for you to sign off on it, but I think we’re good for the ceremony. Let’s go talk reception.”

The three of them walked out of the gardens to where Becca had parked her car and, in a few minutes, they were back at Harry’s house where they had decided to hold the reception.

“The plan is to have the guests walk back here after the ceremony while we go into the Heath to take photos,” Harry explained as they walked into the house. “We’ve got a large back garden and we were thinking two long tables down either side, dance floor in the middle, bridal party at a table across the back.”

“I’d also like some lights strung up in the trees and maybe over the dance floor,” Rori added, walking Becca around the space.

“And colour scheme is still navy and creams?” the older woman confirmed while she took a few photos of the yard.

“Yes,” Rori agreed. “I don’t want to go too over the top, just something simple and tasteful.”

“Tasteful is definitely something we can do,” Becca promised.

They all headed back inside out of the cold and Harry set about making tea as the two women sat down at the kitchen table to discuss details. Becca had her laptop open and Aurora shared her the link to a Pinterest board where she’d been collecting images of details she liked. They spent a few hours discussing everything until Becca was satisfied, she fully understood what the young couple wanted.

“Thank you again Becca,” Rori said when they started to wrap up. “You’ve made this entire process so easy, and I honestly don’t know how we would have gotten anything done without you.”

“Just doing my job, darling,” Becca replied. “And I should be thanking both of you. I’m so used to dealing with Bridezillas that it’s so refreshing how laid back you’ve both been about everything.”

“There’s enough stress in our lives without letting this become another thing,” Harry said, his arm draped across the back of Rori’s seat. Becca smiled warmly at them.

“So, when are you going dress shopping?” she asked Rori.

“I’m hoping to fly back over next month or in April to go with the girls to get their bridesmaids dresses. They boys’ suits are already getting made, so that’s one more thing ticked off.”

“You’ve already got the suits sorted?” Becca asked in surprise. “You guys have really got this organisation thing down.”

“Harry’s getting his suit made by Gucci,” Rori explained, “and they offered to make the groomsmen’s suits as well, so we just decided to go for it.”

“You two are so down to earth I sometimes forget you’re famous,” Becca laughed, “but Gucci. Damn.”

“I know,” Aurora laughed as well. “I’m working with them to design my dress as well. Maybe we should have got them to sponsor the wedding.”

Becca stayed for a little while longer, chatting with the couple before heading out with promises to email Aurora soon.

“I really don’t know why people make planning a wedding into this super stressful thing,” Harry said when she left.

“Right?” Rori agreed. “I have complete faith in Becca. She knows the vibe I’m going for and I trust her to decide on all the finer details. I just don’t see the point in hyper-fixating on it all. I just want to be able to enjoy the day and have fun.”

“Me too,” Harry said. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

#skyfire #skyfire fic #aurora stark #dad!tony #iron dad #step dad steve rogers #stony #stony fic #boyfriend harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #superfamily #harry styles #tony stark

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too-many-baes · 5 years

Text

The Almost Divorce

Pairing: fem!reader x Mycroft Holmes

Warning(s): injury, mentions of blood and death

Word Count: 2.3K

Request: Could you do a very angsty one where the reader gets hurt saving her ex-husband Mycroft from danger? They were married for almost five years but they decide to break up since Mycroft only married the reader as an arranged marriage but the reader is in love with him. When the reader saves him and almost dies it makes Mycroft realize that he loves the reader and it might not be too late. - by Anon

* request edited for length and clarity *

A/N: Whippee, my first request for this blog! Thank you so much anon for sending in a request, it made me so happy. I hope you like it 💖

***********

“Mycroft get down!” Bullets are flying everywhere in a blur of silver and black. You rush to where Mycroft had been standing stunned but was now crouched behind stacked wooden boxes. They were thick enough that the bullets weren’t piercing them yet, but the amount of wood shards flying off let you know it was only a matter of time before he was in serious trouble. You had to get him out, and fast.

You crouch down beside him to share his cover. You check your gun to see you only have half a clip of ammo left, not enough to hold everyone off. “Fuck!” You exclaim, your frustration spilling over. You chance a glance at the man beside you. He’s scared, you can tell. Sweat travels down his face and he has a small shake that can only be attributed to adrenaline. He turns his head to look at you and his eyes plead with you, almost begging for help. Mycroft is a brilliant man with a brilliant mind but conflict to this degree wasn’t his territory, it was yours. And right now, looking at this brilliant scared man all you wanted to do was hold him. Reassurances wouldn’t do, he was too much of a logical man to need empty words of comfort. What he needed was contact. You wanted to intertwine your fingers with his and have his body so close against you that you could feel his heart beating against yours. That was what he needed, contact. Right now though you had to focus on what he really needed and that was for you to get him out of here, safe, with not a hair on his head harmed. That you could do.

“Mycroft, you have to listen to me.” His eyes that were scattered and unfocused now look at you. His breaths are sharp and short and his shakes haven’t subsided. “There’s a door to your right. Turn around and look at it.” You instruct, knowing that if he had a chance to visually take in the information you were about to tell him he’d take it on much better. He quickly glances towards the door then turns back and frantically nods at you. “We’re going to run to that door to get out. I’m going to cover us on the way.”

This time his head is shaking at you incredulously. “The chances of making it out there are below 5%, there’s too many men. We’re completely outnumbered, if we just surrender there’ll be men coming to get us”, he rambles, “best in the country”, he says out to the air rather than to you. He’s looking around again, eyes darting with no real direction and head calculating numbers he pulls from hidden rooms in his mind. Even now with bullets ricocheting off the walls and pummelling into the boxes acting as cover, his mind was running at a million miles an hour. He was still analysing and assessing, figuring out statistics and likely outcomes. His mind has no limit and no matter how much you admire him for it, it was now your job to convince that brilliant mind of his to follow your lead. You’d struggled with this in the past but now you had to force him to see things your way.

You reach over and grab his hand, which is clammy and jittery. He looks confused down at the movement and then back to you. “You have to trust me on this one. I’m going to get you out of here.” No matter what scenarios and numbers were flying through his head one fact stuck out to him that caused him to nod his head in agreement with your plan. You love him. Well, you loved him, that much he knows for sure. That’s enough to slice through all the other logic he could use to debate alternate plans. You loved him, and you’d never let anything happen to him.

This time it’s your turn to glance down at your hands, for one last boost of confidence before you brave the storm of shots. Your right one is holding his left at an angle that makes you notice a thin gold band encircling his ring finger. He’s still wearing his wedding ring. That little gold token gleaming at you filled your frontal lobe with flickers of happiness from the past five years, and that sudden rush of emotion is enough to drive your plan into action.

You release his hand and give him a curt nod with steely eyes. He knows you well enough to know that means prepare yourself. You mime a silent countdown from three on your fingers and when you drop the last finger with your hand balled in a fist you both leap up and into the line of fire.

As you make a dash for the door you make sure to have your body in front of his the whole time. With what few bullets you have left you must be strategic, only firing one off when absolutely necessary.

Mycroft is out of the door and you turn to follow him. The wave of triumph you feel lasts but a second as a piercing pain shoots through your abdomen. You cry out in shock, placing your hand over the injured area. It comes away red telling you all you need to know.

Mycroft is at your side, throwing your arm over his shoulder to get you to the car.

“Keep pressure on it, don’t stop holding it”, he instructs as he helps you into the back seat.

As he speeds you down the motorway your adrenaline starts to wear off and the pain starts to overcome you. The entire time Mycroft is speaking to you, urging for you to stay awake and stay alert but his pleas fall on deaf ears. All you know is pain and all you feel is blood slipping past your fingers. Against Mycroft’s wishes you let your eyes slip shut to get some reprieve from what has become unbearable light. It feels good. So good that you find you can’t force them open again. You feel a black warmth start to take over your body, and with Mycroft’s pleas fading in the background you embrace the dark. You surrender your consciousness to the unknown as you feel your pain alleviate.

When you awake you feel as though you are being weighed down by a large smothering blanket. You can’t move under it’s weight and you can’t open your eyes. A loud, steady beeping fills your ears. If you’d had control of your limbs you’d have swatted at the source, instead you are forced to endure the continual mechanical beeps. You realise that it feels as though someone has your hand in theirs. You try to remove it but succeed only in the smallest movement of your fingers.

“Y/N?” It’s Mycroft, his voice hoarse and desperate. You try to speak to him only for small grumbles to escape your lips. “It’s okay, you’re safe.” His hand not locked with yours is at your shoulder rubbing soothing circles on your covered skin. “You got shot in the back. The bullet went right through but they had to put you in theatre to stop all the bleeding.” He speaks as if he can read your mind, answering the thoughts that were zipping through.

Finally the weight lifts enough that you manage to open your eyes, little by little, until you have full sight of the room. Everything is stark white and sanitary, the only distinguishing feature being the beautiful man sitting beside you. You glance down and catch a glimpse of that little gold band once more.

“You’re still wearing your wedding ring”, you say, your voice scratchy from hours unused. His eyes quickly glance at his finger before looking at you and awkwardly clearing his throat.

“Yes, well you haven’t signed the divorce papers yet so we’re actually still married.” The papers sat on your desk in your apartment, tear stained and awaiting your pen upon it. Many nights you’d sat down and desperately tried to finalise what your husband wanted yet you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. It seemed final, like once you put pen to paper you’d be signing away any chance that was left for you and the man you love. You were strong, but not that strong. “So are you.” He points out, motioning to your left hand where your ring laid. You move your thumb and lightly adjust its position. “You know why.” He has nothing to say sitting there all poise and logic, for it’s true, he knows.

He knows when your wedding was arranged both of you were following orders, neither of you wanted it. He knows that you were open and genuine while he was cold and calculating. He also knows that despite this you fell in love with him. He watched it happen before his eyes, helpless to stop it. He didn’t want any part of it, he didn’t want a wife to begin with let alone one that was falling for him. He let it go on for five years before compassion got the best of him and he filed for divorce. He didn’t want to carry it on any longer, the hope and longing from you too much to bear. It would have been cruel to let it continue.

He broke your heart regardless of his intentions. The day the papers arrived you were inconsolable because it was over. Your time with him and any chance he might feel the same was over and finished and it has been eating away at you ever since.

“You nearly died on that table”, he says, “if we’d arrived any later you wouldn’t be here now.” You simply shrug your shoulders at him.

“Does widow not have as good a ring to it as divorcee?” You say in bitter humour. His movement on your shoulder ceases and he removes both of his hands from you.

“You could have died Y/N, now is hardly the time for jokes.” His voice is stern and almost angry. He never did take your jokes very well.

“If not now then when?” You question with a shrug of your shoulders. “It doesn’t change the fact that I’m still alive and we’re still getting a divorce.” You can’t look him in the eyes as you speak for if you did you know you’d cry which is the last thing he’d know how to deal with. The room is quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time which made you wish you could pluck your spoken words from the air and shove them somewhere deep and dark, away from the light of day.

“When you were in the back of the car”, Mycroft begins hesitantly, “and you passed out, I thought you’d died.” The way he speaks his sombre words shocks you, emotion you’d never heard from the composed man seeping through. He takes in a large shaky breath before continuing, as if he had to steady himself. “When they took you into the operating theatre I thought you were gone. It made me realise something.”

You almost daren’t ask but your heart beating eagerly in your chest left you no alternative. “What?”

“It made me realise that I, that I l-, I”, he speaks while trying to articulate his emotions, “I love, I love you.” Even though it was stuttered and scared, as far as you were concerned he’d spoken in prose. This was all you’d ever wanted. He loves you too. In reality you could barely move but you felt like you could fly.

“You love me?” You croak, your tears getting the better of you and escaping their ducts. “You don’t love anyone like that.”

“I never have”, he says in agreement, “until you. I realised if you never came out of that theatre I’d never be the same.” You desperately reach your hand out for his and squeeze it tightly. He brings his other hand up so yours is nestled between his.

You stayed there, looking at each others faces and soaking up the pure unadultered joy that filled the room. “Does this mean I can get rid of the divorce papers?” You ask hopefully.

“Burn them for all I care.” You laugh at his eagerness before reaching your free hand and placing it on his cheek.

“I love you Mycroft.” He stands and closes the distance between your lips, placing a gentle and tender kiss upon them. He rests his forehead on yours, not yet ready to separate from you.

“I love you too. I was afraid I was too late, that I’d pushed you too far”, he admits to which you shake your head lightly against his.

“Why do you think I hadn’t signed the papers?” You say with a cheeky grin. You lean in to capture his lips once more before he shifts away.

“You have to rest”, his says with his hand on your shoulder, “I’ll be back when you wake up.” You watch his retreating form wondering how you got so lucky as to have one of the best minds on earth fall in love with you.

You laid your head on your pillow resolving it’s not worth wondering. His was in love with you, and it’s all you could have ever wanted.

#sherlock #bbc #mycroft #mycroft holmes #reader insert #fanfiction #fanfic #one shot #imagine #mycroft x reader #i hope i did this justice #writing #me #mine #too many baes

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diaryofasupergroupie · 5 years

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Retirement Doesn’t Exist

The trouble is with being a retired groupie the scene and the industry always tries to seduce you back into its clutches. Once you know what it is to have such talented, beautiful people and have them know you it isn’t easy to stay away forever. They show you an entirely different world where bills, nine to five jobs and commitment doesn’t exist. How could anyone ever leave that entirely behind? My relationships with the bands and crew are intoxicating but those I made with the other girls are made of steel.

My absolutely beautiful and loyal friend M is perfect and unapologetically a groupie devoted to the scene and her love of music. For those who don’t know she is as American as it is possible to be, big hair and bigger personality. She came from the South and was as sweet as it was possible to be. She has always been over the top and that was part of her charm. When she decided she would see in November with a party not only did I get roped into attending despite my apparent retirement I also got roped into making banners and setting the table the night before.

I was tired when I walked inside and counting the numerous places I wanted to be besides there – my bed was top of the list. I convinced myself I was past all of this and far too old for it all but when I saw all these people who were so wonderful and all knew me I knew I was in the right place. I love the noise that buzzes just under the surface when you see a guitarist or singer or drummer who thousands of people love yet when they see you they wrap their arms around you and whisper they have missed you in your ear.

By chance a band I know well were there, they are American and are probably in the top three funniest bands I have come across since being in the scene. I have a long history with the lead singer and we haven’t always liked each other as we do now. For those who have been following me for a while you will remember K from the time I threw a drink all over him and was escorted out of the venue by security. But I nicknamed him K because out of all of the men I have met he is probably the only person who is like me the most. We clashed massively and I didn’t understand that when he was being a complete arse he was actually joking and being funny. This is rather surprising considering my sense of humour matches his exactly so you would like to think I would have been able to notice this. But no, instead I hated him with a passion and was banned from all his gigs for years before he let me borrow his hair straighteners at a festival and fast forward a year and I was on tour with them in Europe and tattooing his cock. It’s funny how things happen.

K opened his arms for me and kissed my cheek while he got us some drinks and told me all about his tour that was starting. At any party he was always watched by a gaggle of new girls who had somehow gained entry. He was too good looking for his own good, he had such an angelic face. I had one up on the other girls though, they hadn’t seen him with no pants on. We got drinks and he sat me down in a secluded little corner of the party where we were hidden away. We had a drunken hook up in the summer but it was nothing more than one night and we hadn’t kept in close contact really. K had sent me a naughty picture of himself several days ago but I had shot him down and told him it all looked rather sad.

This is where I try to tell you that being a groupie isn’t all about sex. It can be, but it doesn’t have to be. I have been kept around a lot longer than some of the others and that is because a pretty face, good body and fun sex will only last you so long. Some may disagree and perhaps it’s the counselling degree in me but I believe that these musicians just want to be listened to. They are normal people who need to be listened to and by doing that I have somehow been kept afloat while bands and girls alike have gone under. K told me what had happened and how rough things had been. He told me a lot but I just listened and held his hand and told him I understood and everything was going to be okay. I saw a change in him, he was a lot more chaotic and scattered. All I could do was let him know I care and sometimes that is enough.

I’m careful how I write the next part of my evening for various reasons. Not everything is crystal clear and I don’t want to glamorise or promote binge drinking. I am very open about the fact I have struggled with alcohol dependence and to some extent I still do. The amount I drank isn’t something I want to promote so we shall say a lot and leave it there. I stumbled across another good friend of mine who for a long time worked as part of the crew of some of my top favourites. What I write next is some kind of assumption because as I said it is a little blurry. The next morning I awoke to see I attempted to call my honorary brother A five times and seven hundred pounds poorer. He had recently invited me to a party and gig he was throwing in America and I suppose in my drunken state I decided I just had to go and book a flight.

What I do remember is at one point in the night I had decided that at the top of my priorities was to dance with M to Bohemian Rhapsody on the stairs – to which I promptly fell down the stairs. The level of drunk I was must have been astounding because I pride myself at having a high tolerance and providing I’m not drinking and taking drugs at the same time I am a true English groupie who has been well trained to hold their drink since falling into a lake at a park while drunk on cheap vodka at 14. Everyone seemed to be worried about me which I can only assume convinced me I must be injured. Somehow I was convinced enough to let K take me to the hospital for my non-existent broken leg which was all very sweet but also very unnecessary.

I shall skip the whole dramatics of it all and K being extremely concerned about me. After an hour of sitting in A&E on a busy Saturday night I finally came to my senses that I was in fact fine and just had a flair for the dramatics. K wasn’t exactly pleased but I did try to sell it that I had made a full recovery apparently. Instead I took K to a fish and chip shop and we ate food together. I remember watching him and realising how sad he was. He was hurting and reaching out to anyone who would even pretend to care. I held his hand and smiled to him while he was so close to sinking lower and lower. K, he whispered and I felt chills, this time is make or break for me, this tour has to go well but I can’t do it without the drugs. I told him he could but he didn’t believe me. I’m not trying to tell everyone how his life is so hard because he has money and a lot of it and people love him but circumstance and sadness aren’t always linked. He should be fantastic and I’m sure some days he is. But some days that doesn’t matter and I think that is okay too.

We went back with each other and I felt I really understood him. Some men you meet in the scene and they’re there for a good time and a night with them is something you tell your friends about because they are exciting and it all seems like a whirlwind. But then there are others – like K – who just want to be held. The next morning I had to leave for work and he had to leave for a gig. But in some kind of twist I got a call from his tour manager telling me that he had finalised the arrangements and he was sending a car for M and myself. In my drunken state I had agreed to come on tour with him and his band – this sudden invitation was pretty typical of him and I had gone on tour for two weeks in Europe with him in the same way. Sometimes these things happen and you just have to go along with them. The truth is no matter how many times I say I am retired there is something alluring about the music, the travelling and the not growing up mind-set. Perhaps I am having a crisis of some kind where I’m trying to relive my youth. But I am in love with it and if I have the opportunity to travel and be with these people who are so so talented then I will, each and every time.

#diary of a super groupie #groupie #story #party story #K #modern groupie #band aid #groupie retirement #tour #tour story #rock music #bands #rock bands #drug abuse #all access #diary #emo bands #indie bands

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c-rankin93 · 7 years

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SHE'S NO YOU - Ch.9

A/N: I actually finished this sooner then I thought I would have and is half way through the next one.. so I thought I'd post it. I hope you enjoy my little twist. These next few chapters will be shorter because I won't be merging the chapters anymore. I only did that so you could find out quicker about the Rae and Finn divorce reasons. But this is where the story gets... heated? And like all my tumblr work, it's not edited :) -- CHAPTER NINE: WHAT DO WE DO NOW? -- RAE POV: I broke away from the kiss reluctantly. I still didn't feel good about doing this behind Gregory's back. "Finn, we have to stop. I'm still with Greg" I didn't want to detach, but I couldn't bare the thought of hurting someone like Greg. "Who cares about him. You know I didn't cheat on you... You can come back to me, we- we can be a family again". If only it was that simple. I had been with Greg almost a year, and in that time he has help me with my children, spoilt me, and done nothing but treat me with dignity. I didn't ask him to do it, he just did. As much as I still loved Finn, I also had a place in my heart for Gregory. I respected him as a man, and he deserved more then this. "Finn, it's not that simple" I sighed. I knew this was going to be difficult to explain. "Then tell me why is what were doing wrong? We were together 12 years Rae" Finn stood confused. I didn't blame him, I too didn't have a clue what clog was turning in which direction. My brain was a mess. "Almost two years ago he walked into my office. He was late for our meeting by 12 minutes and looked disheveled. I, of course berated him about his tardiness the moment I saw him, but he didn't seem to care. You see, the night before our meeting he got nervous. So nervous he decided it would be a good idea to drink his body weight in vodka to calm himself. He woke up late, with a massive hangover, and by the time he reached the office he forgot the excuse he used to be able to see me..." Finn just stood still, intently listening to my story. He didn't give away any emotion. I pressed on, desperate to finish. "A week before I had met him at Izzy's bakery. I was a mess, our divorce was just finalised, but he didn't seem to care. So, we had talked a little whilst I was waiting for Izzy to finish her shift. We had parted ways with only a first name and an occupation known about each other. Out of the thousands of people in New York City he found me. It was the first time I had laughed since leaving you when he told me that story. I cancelled the rest of my day and he took me to lunch as friends. After he got cleaned up. So you can understand why I can't just break his heart. We were good friends for a year before it progressed. I know what it feels like to get hurt, and I can't do that to him". He probably won't understand what I'm trying to say, but he will have to except it. I need to think about what I'm doing, and what I'm risking. Greg and I had a weird kind of relationship, but I can't deny the man knows how to adore someone. "Do you want to be with him?" Finn croaked the words that I didn't want to hear. "I don't know what I want to do, but I don't want to hurt anyone" I admitted truthfully. "Your hurting me, right now. You're killing me". "I'm not trying to hurt you Finn. Believe me that's the last thing I want to do. But until I figure out what's going on in my head, we can't do this". I pointed to our close proximity. He looked devastated. I thought he would be mad, maybe yell and scream at me but he didn't. Instead he smiled softly. It was barely there, but it told me he understood what I was saying. "I can't say that I agree with your decision, but I'll respect it. I will do everything in my power to make this right Rae. Everyone that did you wrong will pay I promise you that, and you wont be able to stop me". And I didn't want too. I could care less about the repercussions those people will be going through. Knowing Finn it won't be pretty. "I understand and I won't ask questions" I smiled. I'm glad that we have come to an agreement. We are parents first, then we sort out everything else. "What's the time?" He suddenly asked. I looked at the clock on the wall to see that it was 7pm. The kids where meant to be home now. "Shit Finn it's already 7pm". "Crap! Atchie said that he was going to bring the kidsc around if I was not back by 6.30, but I don't even think I gave him your address". Finn pulled out his phone, and cussed under his breath whilst he rebooted it. The phone went crazy with messages. One after the other, they started flowing in. I was started to panic. I hoped everything was alright. "Its alright most of them are from Patricia. She's basically having a one sided conversation with herself" he sneared putting his phone to his ear. "Hey! I'm so sorry I forgot I turned my phone off before coming here. Are Ruby and Joshua alright?" He smiled a little and turned to face me. Finn help up a finger, telling me he'll be a minute. "Yup, ha! Well tell him I said no, the game is way to violent for him. Ben shouldn't even be playing that shit in front of him the dick... Haha very funny... Ohkay I'll let her know and get her to call you... tell them we love them and that I'll see them soon... Ohkay, see you tomorrow" I listened to Finn phone conversation slightly confused. "They're at Archie's house, Ben is currently playing C.O.D in front of our naive son- who now wants the game. They have a set of uniforms each and are happy to have them overnight and take them to school. But if you don't want them to stay Ben is happy to drop them off tonight". I panicked slightly. Joshua and Ruby were a nightmare in the morning and I didn't know if Archie and Ben could handle them, plus Sophie. I guess my eyes said a thousand words because Finn rested his hand on my shoulder, his thumb rubbing small circles. "They will be Ohkay Amelia" The words were simple but I believed them. Even though I didn't like them out on a school night, I nodded. I had to let them loose sometimes, experience their crazy families. They can't always be coddled by me. "Ohkay. They can stay, just make sure Sophie doesn't take to long having a shower. She tends to think she's the headlining act at Madison Square Garden when showering, so she gets a bit side tracked". Finn's eyes sparkled in delight before the roaring sound of his laughter filled the air. It was contagious, I couldn't help but join mimicking one of Ruby's favourite moves. "Yes I know, I stood at the bathroom door the other week listening to her do an acapella version of One Direction. I banged on the door for 10 minutes" Finn laughed trying to catch his breath. Our children were characters. But I wouldn't have it any other way. "So what are you going to do tonight?" Finn asked suddenly. He seemed to have recovered fast from his laughing fit. "Uh- I don't really know. I'm thinking about calling in sick tomorrow if I'm honest. I'm pretty intent of having a movie marathon or something tonight" I walked over to my phone on the kitchen counter. The battery had died, so I quickly put it on the charger and sent Chloe a quick text. I may have extended the truth a bit, but in the 3 years not once have I taken a day off. I worked my ass off, and Chloe knew that better then anyone else. So why not live a little. I mean, I just found out that I divorced my husband for no reason. Pitty party for one coming right up. "Can i join you tonight?" What? Was he seriously asking to stay here.. With me? "Finn.. That doesn't sound like a good idea" I sighed. I was scared we would cross those boundaries again. I had already cheated on Greg once before, maybe even more if you counted the kisses Finn and I had shared. I felt guilty enough as it was, imagine the devastation he would feel to see us alone- naked. "Just hear me out Rae. I promise I won't kiss you, touch you- anything. I will just be your friend. I really don't want to go home to the women that destroyed everything I've ever cared about. If I see her now I'll be sent to jail". His eyes pleaded for me to understand, and I did. I wouldn't want to see Olivia right now. She was out of her mind if she though her stupid secret would be hidden forever. She didn't even try to hide her tracks. Everything pointed to her. "Ohkay! But you can sleep in Josh's room or on the couch and do not steal all my popcorn! It's bad enough I usually have the kids eating it all, I don't need you to do it as well". I was glad that we were finally something more then enemies. I didn't exactly know what to call us, but we were talking so that was a start. Where will it go from here? I didn't know. I know that I first had to work out if I truly wanted to stay with Gregory. Whether it was Greg or Finn, Someone was getting hurt and for my sake I hope it wasn't me. "Deal. But I get to choose what movie we watch first.." "Deal". - UNKNOWN POV: The temptation to bite the apple was too strong and the sweet aftertaste only made me stay. The feeling and emotions I experienced that night were overpowering. It triggered a memory so sweet I couldn't stop, even if I tried. Beleive me i tried, my inner self failed to pull my body back, away from the deceit, it was impossible. I couldn't think or feel anything past that moment right there. I felt love. The way we ravished each other, tearing each other apart in the process. It didn't matter that there was alcohol flowing in our systems, it didn't waver our judgement at that time. We wanted each other, on that bed until the sun shone brightly in the sky Sunday morning. Naked, sweaty and absolutely exhausted. And we did just that, but instead we followed through to late afternoon. The moment we separated for showers the guilt kicked in. Me, of course first. It didn't matter how many times I scrubbed my body, I just didn't feel clean. I cheated on the one I loved, the one I feel madly in love with. I fucked up. The repercussions were going to be lethal, my world will fall apart. For one night- that as much as I feel guilty about don't regret. That night was something I would never be able to forget. It felt different to the previous times we had cuddled under the sheets. It was more mature. Maybe because we were. Little did I know that the repercussions for that night would shake my foundations more then i could of ever imagined. People's lives were about to change, starting with me. --- So who do you think the unknown pov was by? --- If you want to be tagged please let me know :) @lily-pop-2 @mmfdfanfic @milllott @hey1tskat1e @l88cym @i-dream-of-emus @arathewallflower @milymargot @tinakegg @eveerez @lurkernolonger @luly310

#mmfd #my mad fat diary #my mad fat diary fan fiction #fan fiction #fanficmmfd #fanfic

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worryinglyinnocent · 7 years

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Fic: Extraction (11/16)

The chapter you’ve all been waiting for - Gold’s file is finally opened...

Summary: Intelligence Agent Belle French has been given her most challenging assignment yet – one that will provide her agency with absolutely vital information on a practically untouchable arms dealer.

In addition to all the usual dangers any assignment carries, Belle also faces the edifying task of convincing Rum Gold to return to help the agency one last time. Agent Gold left the world of international espionage years ago, after an assignment went terribly wrong and ended in his imprisonment and torture, and he vowed never to return, but the agency cannot complete their mission without him…

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Read the previous chapters here on AO3.

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Eleven

Belle tucked her feet up under her on the sofa, wondering what the best way of approaching the subject would be.

“I was thinking about the way you act around Regina,” she said. “I know it sounds silly, but you almost act as if you’ve met her before. Is it because she reminds you of Cora?”

Gold shook his head.

“No, I think I can safely say that Regina is nothing at all like her mother in anything apart from hair colour and bone structure, and I can assure you that today was the first time that I had ever met her.”

“Ok.” Belle reconsidered her line of questioning. “But still, the way you treat her… It’s different to the way that other people treat possible extractions. I know that we often have to use the soft kid glove approach, especially when they’re in tricky situations like Regina’s, but it’s not really that, because there’s a firmness in the way you handle her.”

“What any asset wants, ultimately, is the reassurance that they’re going to be safe,” Gold said. “That reassurance comes in different forms for different people. For Regina, this is the form that works. You’re no rookie in your field, Belle. You’ve done all of this training and I’m sure you must have done extractions before.”

“Yes, I know.” Belle gave a huff of frustration. “That’s not what I’m getting at. Your approach to Regina is familiarity, which is a perfectly valid approach, but it comes so effortlessly to you and I know from reading all your files that it is not your usual approach, and that familiarity is not something that comes second nature. I’ve been in close quarters with you for a while now and I can pick up on your tells. There is something about Regina that makes her different, and I think that’s why you agreed to help; not because she asked for you but because it’s her.”

Gold gave a long sigh. “I think I know what you’re driving at,” he said. “And I think that given our circumstances, you deserve the full story. You could have worked it all out yourself if you’d looked at that bloody confidential file that Blue sent me via you, but you’re lovely and you have honour and integrity so you didn’t peep.” He smiled. “I respect that.”

He put his half-finished plate down on the coffee table and limped over to his luggage, unlocking it and taking out the manila envelope, no longer plastered with confidential tape. He put it down on the sofa between them, but placed a hand over it to stop Belle picking it up.

“First, tell me honestly what you think is going on and why you think I came out here to extract Regina.”

Belle took a deep breath.

“I believe that Regina is your daughter.”

Gold inclined his head and removed his hand from the file, pushing it over the faded cushions towards her.

“In that belief you would be completely justified.”

Belle took the file, but didn’t open it, and Gold nodded towards it.

“Everything you need to know is in there, in black and white,” he said, but Belle shook her head.

“I think I’d rather hear your version of events than some sterile thing that Blue’s had typed up. I know that you were sent to extract Cora twenty years ago, and I know that you were close to her – what Mal said in the residency yesterday evening confirmed that. And the timings line up. It’s just over twenty years since you were here on your assignment, and Regina has just turned twenty.”

Gold nodded.

“You really know most of it all already,” he said. “It’s a good summing up. But yes. I was sent, just over twenty years ago, to extract Cora. Mal and I were already doing a lot of work in Avalon, we were about to set up the residency over here, we had each built up a good network of assets. As I said before, Mal was supposed to have come with me to extract Cora, but at the last moment, Control said that I was to go alone. I knew exactly what he had in mind, and at the time, I didn’t think anything of it, other than to wonder why I couldn’t have Mal as back-up. In a word, sex. I was to get close to Cora by any means necessary, up to and including getting her into bed.” He gave a self-deprecating snort. “Before I went out there, I’d just had my divorce finalised and I was on a very entertaining rebound period. It didn’t make a lot of difference to me. She was beautiful in that cold, dangerous way, and she was another man’s wife, and at the time that appealed because my own wife had run off with another man, so a primal part of me thought it was a weird kind of karmic payback that I’d then run off with someone else’s.” He sighed, and caught Belle’s expression, raising an eyebrow. Belle didn’t know what her facial features were doing, but she was evidently expressing some kind of disapproval.

“I regret the train of thought that went along with my actions,” Gold said coolly, “but I do not regret the actions themselves, except in as much as they ultimately led me to prison, but that could probably be said of the entire assignment whether I’d slept with her or not.”

“I’m not chastising you,” Belle said hastily. “I’m just trying to understand what it must be like to be in that position.”

“Well, just take a moment to think about it. If there was something that you wanted desperately, some piece of intelligence that would prove such a boon, you would do anything in your power to get it, wouldn’t you? You’d use any and every trick up your sleeve, including your body. Are you telling me you’ve never used your body to your advantage?”

Belle thought about it, sipping her juice.

“I’ve never slept with anyone for intel,” she said. “But yes, I have taken advantage of low cut tops and mini-skirts and the male gaze before now.”

“It’s on the same spectrum in a way,” Gold said. “It’s just higher up the scale. Some people aren’t comfortable with it. I don’t know that I would be now, but then, I’m a bit older and a lot less attractive than I was back then.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Belle said. “Older yes, obviously, twenty years have passed. But not necessarily less attractive.”

He raised his eyebrows again and gave a snort of laughter into his water glass. “I’ve got a limp and I’m going grey.”

“Silver foxes can be very sexy,” Belle said, and in spite of herself she had to giggle. “I’m beginning to think there might be something in this orange juice.” She knew that there wasn’t, it was a sealed bottle that she’d opened and poured herself, but all the same, she couldn’t remember ever feeling this relaxed in the middle of an assignment. Well, not relaxed, that was definitely the wrong word. Everything was still up in the air and fraught with tension and until she’d seen Zelena at the bottom of a well where she couldn’t throw any spanners into the works then Belle would not relax. But… vaguely at ease, and able to laugh. Considering the bleak subject matter that they were talking about, it was good to laugh for a moment before they returned to talking about the events of Foresight all those years ago and she was brought back down to earth with a jolt.

The jolt came a little sooner than expected.

“Sexy silver foxes aside, what’s under the clothes is not a pretty sight,” Gold continued, his tone matter of fact but his expression somewhat self-deprecating. Belle’s stomach churned uncomfortably, remembering the scars.

“I wouldn’t say that,” she said.

“Belle, you haven’t seen…”

Belle cut him off. “I have. You left the bathroom door open when you were shaving this morning, remember? I got a peek in the mirror.”

Gold rubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck,” he muttered.

“There’s nothing ugly about your scarring,” Belle said. “It just shows all that you’ve survived.”

“Doc said that,” Gold mused. ‘Doc’ Forrest had been the chief medical officer for the House for as long as Belle could remember; certainly as long as Granny had been there “That was back when they were fresher and I had less tattoos to cover them up. I had a few already, you don’t really go to prison and come out unmarked. He said that there was no shame in them, and that I ought to be proud of having survived what I’d gone through, not ashamed of everything that I had gone through to cause them.”

“You obviously didn’t believe him then,” Belle remarked.

“Well, of course I didn’t,” Gold said. “I was, as Granny will tell you, the most bolshy, contrary and bloody-minded person in the country at that point and I didn’t believe anything that anyone told me. Especially anyone in the service. Apart from Granny. She always gave as good as she got and she did keep me stocked up in booze throughout my recovery. And it’s Doc’s job to make people feel better.”

“Well, I’m no doctor and I’m saying exactly the same thing.” She paused. She’d wondered if he had tattoos and she’d seen some of the evidence this morning, and she wanted to delve further into it, ask more about the meanings. She decided against it. They were already treading a very fine line.

“Let’s not talk about it anymore, please.” Gold gave her a pleading look. “I was telling you about Foresight and Cora and Regina, not me.”

Belle nodded. “Of course. Go ahead.”

Gold took a moment to collect himself and he continued.

“Well, I came out here and I started to work my way into Cora’s life. We knew that she had something to trade, she had already told us as much, but we wanted her to give it to us on our terms. We wanted to turn her. So I became her best friend. I became her solace from a loveless marriage and a tyrant father-in-law who looked down on her common roots – Henry and Xavier Mills are descended from the Misthaven royal line – and saw her only as a vessel to carry his grandchild and future heir.” He gave a bark of sarcastic laughter. “Oh, the tales she span me. It was only later that I realised just how much I’d been led up the garden path, and that although Xavier was indeed a terrifying specimen, he had more respect for Cora and her vicious business acumen than he did for his own son. And Henry, who had been presented to me as cruel and cold with no regard for his wife at all was a somewhat weak-willed man who would never hurt a fly. All the terrible things that she told me he’d done to her, she’d done to him instead. But she fed me these tales, and I had far less intelligence at my fingertips in those days; my networks weren’t as well established and weren’t working in the correct circles. Up until we’d had the offer of intel from Cora we’d mainly been focussed on the various rebel militias in Avalon that had sprung up during the war of independence and hadn’t quite quietened down, still claiming responsibility for bombings throughout Misthaven and indeed beyond. So she could tell me pretty much anything she wanted and because the intelligence that she was giving me was checking out as triple-A quality, naturally I assumed that everything else she was telling me had to be true as well.”

Gold gave a long sigh again and refilled his glass. “Are you sure I can’t have a whiskey?”

“I’ll buy you a crate of Glenfiddich when we get out of here,” Belle promised.

“You know I’ll hold you to that.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

Gold shook his head in good-natured disbelief and continued his tale.

“In the end, we ended up in bed together as the natural conclusion to what we’d been carrying on. One thing led to another and we got sloppy.” He cringed. “Christ, talk about the wrong word. Complacent, that’s a better one. Anyway, not long after that, Cora put her master plan into action and bam. I was set up, the Avalon police caught me and threw me in the Mines, Blue and the Agency sold me down the river and Cora came to visit, gloating about how she’d just achieved everything she ever wanted and thank you for all my help but now she was going to leave me to rot.” He paused. “I noticed she was expecting then but wasn’t really in the right frame of mind for it to register. It was only after I got out and I was reading up on everything that had happened whilst I’d been inside, trying desperately to find out if Marco and the others were all right. That was when I saw about Regina and put two and two together. I’ve been wondering about her ever since.”

He nodded towards the file, and Belle opened it. Within, there were a few pictures of Regina taken at various points during her lifetime, and a few pages of medical paperwork filched from the Avalon central medical records database, showing all her statistics in plain numbers. There were also the results of a DNA test that had been undertaken shortly after Gold’s return to civilisation, confirming that Regina was indeed his daughter.

“I’d already failed one of my children,” Gold said softly. “As soon as Blue gave you that file, she knew that I would come with you, because she knew that I wouldn’t fail another. I got to watch Bae grow up and I was part of his life whilst he was a boy, but then I lost him before he became an adult. I was denied the chance to be part of Regina’s life whilst she was young, and I can’t lose her now that she’s an adult. Not now that this opportunity has presented itself to me.”

Belle nodded.

“I understand,” she said. “It explains everything.” His manner with Regina, the paternal fondness he showed for her, it was all genuine. It explained his vehemence about not turning her but extracting her fully and letting her live out her days in peace in a safe place. Why he’d said he’d set her up in a remote corner of Scotland – perhaps a remote corner like Lochdubh where he could make sure that she was safe. It explained why he was so committed to this assignment despite the pain, both mental and physical, that it was causing him.

And it also explained how come Regina had asked for him to be the one to come and get her.

“I take it that Regina knows?” Belle said.

Gold nodded. “As you know we haven’t exactly discussed the subject openly. But I think she knows. I can’t think of any other reason why she would want me over anyone else, especially knowing as she does my history with her mother, and her mother’s history with our agency. That’s not something that Cora would ever attempt to hide from Regina; her victory over us is something that she’s terribly proud of and likes to flaunt. People like us are weak, in Cora’s eyes, and people like her are made to rule over us. It’s something that she would have passed onto her daughter. The engagement to Leo White proves it. You don’t marry for love if you’re Cora or her daughter. You marry for power and once you’ve got the power you get someone to dispatch the husband for you.”

“Regina doesn’t subscribe to the theory though.”

“No, which is something I’m very grateful for. There’s been enough external influence in her life not to allow Cora’s twisted philosophy to take hold, and now she has Daniel to whom she’s clinging as much as she can as a lifeline. All I can do now is hope that we can get her out and she has some chance of a better life without her mother’s toxic influence, in a place where she’s loved and is free to love in return.”

It was an eloquent and beautiful philosophy, and Belle took a moment to let it sink in before she closed the file and returned it to Gold.

“I’m sure we’ll succeed. I don’t think it’s ever too late to bond with your children.”

“I hope not.” Gold sighed, and Belle worried her bottom lip between her teeth, wondering how, or if, she should approach her next question.

“I’ll understand if you don’t want to discuss it,” she began eventually, “but you mentioned losing your son. May I ask what happened?”

Gold looked at her confused for a moment, and then laughed out loud. Belle was startled by this reaction and wondered if she’d completely misunderstood something.

“Oh Fae, my dear,” Gold said. “No wonder you didn’t want that put in the case file. Oh, you know what you did, for the greater good, to try and cover your tracks when you hung me out to dry.”

“Gold?” Belle hedged. She was remembering the conversation between Gold and Blue back in headquarters when he had arrived so unceremoniously and put the cat among the pigeons. The cryptic exchange they’d had, about what Blue knew Gold wanted and what was impossible and what she’d done for the greater good. At the time and on reading the case file she’d assumed it related to the two extra years he’d spent in prison before they’d managed to swap him back, two years spent there ultimately on Blue’s orders. Now she was not so sure.

Gold turned back to Belle. “When I returned from Avalon, the first thing I wanted to do was see my son. Well, within reason. I wanted a good cup of tea and a bath and a bottle of whiskey, but that’s beside the point. I wanted to see my son, whom I hadn’t seen in six years and to whom I had no idea what kind of tale had been spun as to my disappearance, whether he knew I had been in prison in Avalon or not. Blue, however, informed me that in keeping with protocol, Bae and his mother and step-father had been placed in a protection program after I had been captured lest I reveal something about their location under torture and put them in danger. They’d been given entirely new identities. I wasn’t at all surprised by this and I was even grateful to Blue for organising it.”

“Something bad must have happened.”

“Blue refused to let me know the new identities,” Gold said coolly. “She said that whilst I was still under observation, I couldn’t know the information.”

After his release from the House following repatriation, Gold had been kept under observation for three years before he was no longer deemed potentially dangerous. Belle did the maths quickly, Bae would have been twenty-three at the time.

“And after observation?” she pressed.

“Once my observation period was up, I spoke to Blue again. Blue said that it would be impossible for me to see my son, because in the interest of his safety, when I had been blown, they had told him that I had been killed.”

Belle felt her jaw drop. “What?”

“The language I used was slightly stronger than that, but my reaction was very similar to yours.” Gold’s smile was bitter.

“Surely you could have looked him up anyway,” Belle said. “There was nothing stopping you from having the information.”

“I know there wasn’t,” Gold said. “But by the time I had digested the news that my family thought I was dead, I decided that I couldn’t go through with it. By that point I hadn’t been a part of Bae’s life for almost ten years. He thought I was dead, he had mourned me and gone on with his life. He was an adult, he might have a family of his own. I couldn’t in all good faith suddenly walk back into his life. Not in the state I was then, the state I’m still in now. Broken and battered and just a shadow of the man I was before. I couldn’t inflict that on Bae’s new life. So I gave my son up for lost and I retreated into my antique shop. Until you and Agent Swan arrived, and presented me with a second chance wrapped up in this deadly coating.”

Belle didn’t have the right words to express her sympathy in that moment. Everything that she could come up with in her mind sounded wrong and clichéd. She couldn’t begin to be able to know what Gold had been through, and the agony of having something to cling to throughout his torture, the thought of seeing his son again, only for it to be ripped away from him at the end, well, she couldn’t fathom it.

So she didn’t speak, but instead just reached across the sofa and took Gold’s hand in hers, squeezing gently.

He looked up at her, and she could see the understanding and gratitude in his eyes. After a moment, he brought her hand to his lips and kissed her knuckles like a knight of old.

“Thank you, Belle,” he said softly. “Thank you.”

#rumbelle fic #rumbelle #spies!AU #Belle French #Fic: Extraction

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