#every chance they get/every time they talk to a parent and know youre within earshot; a novella | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lilyharvord · 3 years

Note

If you get the chance can you write a short fanfic about mare having baby fever? LOL the idea just popped in my head of like all her friends having kids and baby clara making it extreme and at first shes all like no kids and suddenly is like to cal gimme like 10, and ofc hes happy to do so :)

I love conflicted Mare. :))))

Baby Fever Drabble

“He’s gorgeous Lou.” Ruth announced as she held her fifth grandchild, and bounced him until he cooed and then gurgled. Turning to face the window so the light shone down on the massive blanket she was cradling, Ruth glanced him over again. The room was mostly empty, a majority of the cousins had been shuttled out to the little café downstairs to grab breakfast, and the rest of Mare’s family had gone with them. It was just her, Tramy, Lou, their daughter Elowyn, Bree’s eldest son Wes, Clara, Farley, and Ruth. It was nice though, the room had been so loud a couple minutes ago. Silence was precious by this point.

Glancing over her shoulder, Ruth grinned at her daughter. “Mare have you held him yet?”

Glancing up from listening to Wes as he chattered her ear off about the frogs he’d caught over the weekend with Kilorn, Mare shook her head. Next to her, Clara was napping in Farley’s lap after trying to stay awake all night waiting for her cousin to arrive, and stirred before sighing and settling again.

Before Mare could protest Ruth had already slipped the baby into her arms. “Oh, um, I—” He was heavy and Mare had to stifle a grimace as she imagined how much Lou’s back must have hurt the entire pregnancy. She seemed pretty content now though, and Tramy looked more like a bird puffing out it’s chest, as if he did anything for the past nine months. Their daughter Elowyn was napping in his arms exhausted just like Clara. How had her family gotten so big in the past few years? It seemed like the number of nieces and nephews had multiplied exponentially when she turned her back for a day. First Bree and Tora had Wes, and then Elowyn came along, and then Bree and Tora had announced the twins, and now there was this new baby. Even Sara and Julian had one of their own, a toddler now who stared at her like Julian used to over his desk. Everytime she turned around there was a new baby, and she would be lying if she said she hadn’t felt an… itch.

Because that was really all it was for a bit, just an itch. She scratched it by watch Wes and Elowyn, and babysitting Clara for a day. But after the twins and this baby, that itch was like a crawling wave all over her body. It drove her insane that she was thinking about it all the time. She’d think about it for hours while lying in bed, just watching Cal sleep. She’d think about it while making coffee, and while she showered and while she trained. She had started noting any new baby at the little market near her apartment every time she went. And a week ago, she’d almost not taken that little white pill that ensured everything stayed exactly as it was. When she had done that, she realized there might be a problem.

Her nephew yawned, stretching tiny pink lips into a perfect circle before closing his eyes. Ruth had been right, he was gorgeous. With little tufts of bronze hair, and delicate cheek bones that no baby really needed. Honestly, it was surprising Lou had let anyone else hold him. If this was her baby, Mare wouldn’t have let anyone near him. Her baby would be a lot prettier, she decided right then and there. Not that it mattered, she wasn’t planning on having a baby… ever. Mare Barrow was not built to be a mother. She was a wonderful aunt, because she could give the baby back whenever she needed to, and she could leave for the front whenever she was called for like she had to do. A baby did not fit into that mix.

But a baby that was half her and half Cal? She’d been thinking about it again yesterday while Cal was leaned over the sink shaving. It would be a boy, she decided that while he ran the razor over his jaw. He’d have Cal’s height, and build, and maybe a few of his other features. Those amber eyes wouldn’t hurt, and that smile? Well, maybe not the smile. That smile is what made her fall in love with Cal, and she could not deal with a string of broken hearts trailing her son around. Because without a doubt he would have her track record in that department. He’d have a face that was impossible to say no to, and a laugh that made her world a little bit brighter every time he let it loose. She’d name him Shade. It had been something itching at the back of her mind ever since her brothers had decided not to name any of their sons that.

“Now that is a sight.” Farley teased, making Mare startle and wake the baby in her arms.

Glaring at her friend, who smirked in response, Mare grumbled. “What’s a sight?”

“That face tells me you’re weighing the consequences and options.” Farley at least had the decency to drop her voice when she said that. It still brought all the blood to Mare’s cheeks at the insinuation, and the fact that she had been so obviously caught. She recovered quick enough that she wasn’t completely embarrassed though.

“What consequences and options?”

“Nine months doesn’t seem too long anymore does it, Mare?” Farley shrugged as she shifted Clara and went to rise from the plastic couch they’d occupied for the better part of three hours. “And besides,” bending down so her next words were for Mare only, Farley tilted her head in mock consideration, “Making it will probably be the fun part for you.”

If she didn’t need both hands to hold a baby, she would have actually slapped Farley for that. Mare’s neck joined her cheeks in burning bright red, and she tried to shrink away from that searching smile.

“You were thinking about it.”

“I wasn’t thinking about anything.” Mare grumbled before getting up as well, forcing Farley back a step so they didn’t smack foreheads. She stole across the room and deposited Tramy’s son in Lou’s arms, before trying to slip out of the room at the same speed. But Farley knew her too well, and Mare cursed her short legs once more when Farley’s strides caught up with hers.

“Just admit it, you have baby fever.” Farely teased as she shifted Clara to a better hold so she could nudge Mare’s shoulder. Not expecting the push, Mare stumbled to the side, and glared as Farley laughed.

Crossing her arms and standing her ground, she looked Farley up and down. The general was still beautiful, and would remain that way for the rest of her life probably. Even balancing a child on her hip, she was imposing. Mare twisted her lip at the thought. With a baby on her hip, Mare knew she would be far less terrifying.

“I don’t have baby fever because I don’t want kids.”

“For someone who doesn’t want them, you spend an awful lot of time staring wistfully at your husband while he plays with them.” Farley raised a brow, and smothered another smile which only made Mare raise her chin in argument. Even if she was right, she didn’t have to state that out loud within earshot of anyone.

“I don’t stare wistfully.” She argued, the words clipped and sharp. Like Farley, she had her own military tone now. It normally refuted any argument before it could begin, but Diana Farley had never been afraid of her. And that was not going to change with a few sharp words.

Rolling her eyes with a mocking nod, Farley turned on her heel to continue down the hallway. “Of course Mare.”

“I don’t!” Mare shouted at her back, drawing the attention of a nurse at one of the stations. Glaring in the woman’s direction, Mare stomped after Farley. It was pointless to refute whatever thought her friend had, because she wasn’t wrong. Mare just refused to admit it. She did sometimes catch herself sitting on her parent’s back porch watching Cal play with the horde of cousins. He never got tired of it, and the way he laughed when he was with them sometimes bit at her heart. They all adored him, and followed him around as much as the young Ardents had at the Notch. She knew he’d caught her watching a few times, and had given her a knowing, bittersweet smile she never returned.

And sure they’d… talked about things like that. But never seriously. It was always after one too many glasses of wine when they were sprawled out of the couch half-dressed and teasing. Fantasizing about kids was fine then, because they still didn’t physically exist. And Cal had never made an overt moves or comments to tell her that he wanted to have kids right this second. What if she was the only one feeling the itch this strongly and he shot down her idea? He was just as practical, if not more than her sometimes. They both knew the truth and the risk of having a child far outweighed the idea of having it. There were too many variables they couldn’t control, too many horrible outcomes that they’d face. It was better to just fantasize.

“It’s too dangerous.” Mare spoke quietly, and even though she thought her friend wasn’t listening, it got Farley’s attention.

Pausing so Mare could catch up, Farley raised her brow again. “What isn’t dangerous in this life Barrow?”

“This would be even more so. The Silver Secession has not let up, and with the State still in a precarious position—”

“The States will always be in a precarious position. It’s the nature of that mess of a country.” Farley argued with a huff. She wasn’t wrong, but it didn’t change the fact that Cal was always going to be running back and forth to uphold his duties as a general.

Pursing her lips in irritation, Mare glanced to the side to avoid Farley’s stare. No matter how many times she faced it, it still cut her to the core. Those diamond hard eyes were too perceptive, and they always found the truth, even when Mare buried it deep.

“I think there is something else keeping you. You’ve never been worried about the Secession and you’ve never been worried about Cal and the States.” Farley tilted her head to the side before shifting Clara again. The young girl blinked awake, honey eyes still dreamy as she looked at her mother and then at Mare. “But you’re obviously not ready to talk about it.”

Shoving her hands in the pockets of her jacket, Mare fidgeted with her ring. She knew there was a truth, a deep one she didn’t want to admit. A fear that ran deeper than the pestering Silver Secession and the nagging worry when Cal was gone in the States. It had haunted her for her whole life, and it would probably continue to do so.

“When you want to talk about it,” Farley whispered, her voice slipping into that gentle tone she so rarely used, “I am all ears Barrow.”

Mare considered it for half a second and opened her mouth to say something, only for the doors to burst open next to them and the twins to race by her, shouting like banshees. Clara perked up immediately, and squirmed until Farley sighed and set her down to race after the rest of the cousins. They all skidded around the corner together, pushing and giggling as they went. Craning her neck to make sure they went the right way, Farley sighed before turning back to Mare with an expectant eye.

Bree’s shoved his way between them though, grinning down at Mare and saying, “Pardon me, didn’t see you there.”

“Very funny. The short jokes died when we were ten, Bree.” Mare let a few sparks snap at his elbow as he tried to avoid her. Yelping at the sensation, he rubbed the spot and glowered like a child at her.

“Glad I’m not the only who gets that punishment.” Cal’s warmth always proceeded him, and this time was no different. Sliding an arm around Mare’s shoulders he pulled her close. “Is Lou finally sleeping?”

Pushing Bree along when he tried to linger, Farley responded for her. “Doubtful. The baby will want to eat, and then he’ll have to be passed around like a sack of potatoes for a little bit longer before she can sleep.”

“Sounds miserable.” Cal’s hand slid along her shoulders until his fingers brushed along Mare’s neck, tracing scars that he knew like a roadmap. The touch sent a shiver down her spine, and brought goosebumps to the surface. Glancing up, she considered him for a heartbeat. Maybe he hadn’t been joking when he told her she’d look lovely pregnant, when she’d insisted she wouldn’t. Maybe he had been serious when he said they should consider moving to the same neighborhood as Bree and Tora. Maybe he had been feeling this insatiable itch just as long as her.

When she finally dragged her eyes away from his profile, it was to see Farley struggling to hide a smirk. Even though it was completely childish, Mare stuck her tongue out at her bitterly.

“I obviously missed whatever just happened.” Cal’s hand slid away from her, but not before Mare caught it and laced her fingers with his.

“Farley’s being annoying, which is why we’re leaving.” Mare announced before pulling him toward the doors. Farley only laughed in response to her.

Throwing one more good glare over her shoulder as she pushed Cal through the doors, Mare stuck her tongue out one more time.

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cursestothemoon · 4 years

Text

A Bench And Piece of Parchment’s Length Away

requested: yess

Cedric Diggory x Ravenclaw!Fem!reader (i just noticed you hadn't specified fem! or not in your request so you’d like me to change it please let me know ill be more than happy to do it!!)

Summary: Cedric likes Y/n, a lot. But every time he tries to talk to her the universe just seems to have other plans, maybe this time he's found a loophole...

Warnings: mentions of vomiting

Word count: 2571 (i got a tad carried away)

This one is sO cute I really love this one, thank you for requesting

✧✧✧

The first time Cedric tried asking you out didn’t go over so smoothly. It had been a month or so before the Yule Ball and he needed a date, naturally you were first to come to mind. The Hufflepuff had harbored an intense, often even painful, crush on you ever since McGonagall pulled you up in front of the transfiguration class as a ‘model student’. That was third year, now halfway into his sixth, he had to do something about his feelings.

You were sitting with Cho Chang, a housemate of yours, and he couldn’t help but think obviously the universe wanted this to happen because why else would you be sitting, practically alone, just waiting for him to come sweep you off your feet.

He had gotten a bit too cocky.

It was on his way to you, stepping with the utmost swagger, that he noticed Lee Jordan also seemed to be sauntering in your direction and he was significantly closer than Cedric was. Suddenly his walk seemed to lose all of its swagger and he picked up his pace, glaring at the Gryffindor.

Cedric still had hope when Lee reached you first, maybe he wasn’t going to ask you to the ba-

Why were you smiling?

You were being polite right? That’s it you were just polite, he still had his chance.

Not nodding, why have you started to nod your head?

Cedric knew he should’ve turned around but he just couldn’t, his feet wouldn’t let him. His was within earshot now and people had noticed him, he couldn't just turn around now.

“-love to go with you Lee.”

Oh how he wished he’d just disappear, transfigure into a leaf or something and get carried away by the wind.

And Merlin, now you're turning to look at him

Think Cedric

Thin-

“Cho!” He all but shouted, gaining the attention of not only you and Lee, but also anyone else within a five foot radius.

“Cedric, you alright?” Cho smiled up at him kindly.

That was how he ended up asking Cho Chang to the Yule Ball. He felt terrible about it, really, Cho was beautiful, and she was smart, and kind, but she just wasn’t you. Cedric had rushed away from the scene so fast, rather embarrassed, he failed to notice the way your mood had dropped and the look Cho gave you after Lee had left.

From that point on he was sure talking to you just wasn’t meant to be, now preferring to watch you from the sidelines. It was a rough week for him following the Yule Ball when Lee seemed to always be just right beside you, luckily Cedric hadn’t had to endure it long.

It was a sunny Wednesday, rather warm, when he got his bright idea. He and his group of friends had been lounging, quite ungracefully, at a bench in the courtyard. It was only when you walked over to them that he popped looking a bit disheveled, his robes a tad askew.

“Hey Y/n.” He put on his most charming smile.

You met his eyes and Cedric swore you grew more beautiful by the day.

“Hi Cedric, sorry to bother but I left my book under the bench yesterday. I just wanted to grab it and I’ll be out of your hair.”

Cedric realized what had happened immediately. They had sat on your bench, well not yours, but there was an unspoken agreement between you and your friends that this bench was the bench you’d all meet at and now he had parked his own behind on it.

“Oh, oh, right.” He was quick to reach down and grab your book scolding himself in the process. He should’ve known it was your book, let alone your bench, he had only watched you sit on it and keep your book under for picking it up on your way to class the next day (lightens the load he presumes) for months now.

He handed you the book and it seemed as if a lightbulb went off. You left your book here, in the courtyard, it was perfect.

Cedric was up, probably most of the night, writing his letter to you. His dorm mates having retired with grunted goodnights, not really caring who he was sending what seemed like a novel of a letter to.

Three broken quills, five pieces of parchment thrown in the rubbish bin, and one ink bottle spill later...he was done. He sealed it carefully and placed it under his pillow hoping he’d catch at least a few hours of sleep before lessons in the morning.

It was like clockwork really. He made sure his friends avoided the bench, watched as you strutted your way to the bench, met with your friends before your next lesson, and just before leaving, you hid your book behind one of the thick legs of the bench.

Perfect

He told his friends to go on without him, he’d dropped something and he’d be just a moment. His look around your bench with a feigned expression of curiosity and frustration was enough for his friends to believe what he was saying, or they didn’t have the heart to tell him he wasn’t that great of an actor. Either way, they let him be.

Cedric worked quickly, he pulled out the book from its hiding spot with a small smile, he’d make sure to hold your books for you when (he was certain it was destined) you fell in love with him. He tucked his letter behind the front cover and placed it back into its spot, waiting for you to come grab it in the morning on your way to History of Magic.

This morning had been rough for you, your tie did not want to cooperate and now sat crooked enough to drive you mad, and to make matters worse you were late to your History of Magic class. You had grabbed your textbook from under the bench, it was thick and you always hated carrying it hence, the bench, and grumbled your way to class. Upon arrival you were regretfully informed of your five minutes of absence, luckily Professor Binns was feeling generous and let you off with a warning.

You plopped down into your seat and threw open the cover of your book with some dramatics, but you weren’t expecting the book to retaliate and spit an envelope into your lap. Professor Binns assigned reading from the textbook and you were quick to get it done before you examined the letter further.

The front of the envelope was bare, not a scratch of ink present which only ignited your curiosity. Fumbling, you finally got it open without drawing any attention to yourself and unfolded the letter. The handwriting was neat, uniform, and without a doubt, belonging to a boy.

Dear Y/n,

I hope this letter finds you well, and Merlin I hope it doesn’t rain or else this would be a mess. If everything has worked in my favor, and I pray it does, and you are reading this then I would like you to know how incredibly captivating I find you. You’re quite the sight, I must say, but more than that you are kind and witty. You are smart and confident, in the best, most attractive way possible.

I’ve watched you a lot, wait, no that sounds awfully creepy. I swear I’m not some old prat, or one of the professors. What I was meaning to say was that I’ve admired your beauty from afar for quite some time and it seems as though anytime I try to talk to you face to face things never seem to go as I’ve planned them, so I’m hoping this letter is a bit like a loophole.

Regardless, beauty, grace, and brains like yours deserve to be not only noticed, but complimented. And with the barrier of this parchment, I am not as nervous to tell you, but I’ve fallen in love with you, all of you. I do hope one day I’d be able to hear the same confession fall from your lips in my direction.

All my love,

Badger

Suddenly, your morning wasn’t so bad. Your stomach felt very airy and your face hot, you looked around to make sure no one had noticed just how flustered you became. Luckily, no one did and you were able to put the note into your bag discreetly, just before class was over.

On your way to your next class you thought about who it could be, Badger, what an awfully unique name to go by. The gears in your brain start to turn, it had to be a clue, but what did badger have anything to do-

Hufflepuff.

Your secret admirer was obviously a Hufflepuff and your heart leaped at the idea of it possibly being Cedric Diggory. You had strategically picked the bench where your friends meet you to be the one closest to where he and his friends would usually hang out. Of course you two had talked on a few occasions but he always seemed a bit reserved around you, a flirty remark or two (if you were lucky) and that was it so clearly it couldn’t be him. But oh how a girl could hope.

The next few weeks went on the same way, every Wednesday you’d get your book in the morning and you’d find a letter in it. Each one having a small clue as to who it was, the first one being the pen name Badger, next it was ‘...my family is quite small, just me and my parents…’ , then you got ‘...you’re my lucky charm, you know? If I see you in the stands during a quidditch game, I just know we’ll win…” , the last letter, however, was the reason you were so quick to get to your book today.

“...I’ve decided to just go for it Y/n, I can’t stand not being able to talk to you face to face any longer. In the next letter find my name...”

He had put his name in this letter and you were more than excited to see who it was. You had tried to pay attention, really you had, but the person was just far too sneaky.

And Cedric was proud of it. He had watched you open each letter at the bench, every Wednesday, for the last few weeks. He had gotten very good at hiding the letter in your textbook, some days he’d levitate it into the book, other times he’d bribe some first year to slip in his letter while he watched from afar.

He was tired of being so far, finally deciding to just go for it, but his stomach couldn’t handle watching you rush to today’s letter and open it far quicker than he's ever seen you open one. Cedric was nauseous with nerves as he quickly rushed to his next class, mumbling out an excuse of having to ask his professor about something.

You tore open the envelope, no time for sentiments now when the name of your secret admirer was just beneath your fingertips.

Dear y/n,

neRve wracking, isn’t It? if You happen to miraCulously harbour an ounce of the feelings i dO for you, meet me at this benCh tonight duRing dinner. if you fail to show, I complEtely understand and will hold nothinG against you, please don’t feel obliGated to do anything for me.

all my love,

baDger

Of course he wouldn’t make it easy, now forcing you to wait until you could get a piece of parchment out to write out all the letters, undoubtedly they also happen to be in the wrong order.

Professor Binns was as monotone as always, his lecture droning on so you found it an opportune time to find out who this mystery man was.

D R I Y C O C R I E G G D

You huffed, quill ready to decipher the letters that just had to be out of order.

GREG YIRDCOCD

Your hand was quick to scratch that one out.

EGGY CODDIRRC

Well that can’t be right

A quiet groan passed through your lips as you set you quill down, eyes going over the letters again. You looked around subtly before you decided to try your luck, it seemed like it would fit.

CEDRIC

You paused, there was no way it would work.

DIGGORY

It fit stupidly well, Hufflepuff, quidditch, only child, stupidly charming and boyish handwriting. The only part not making sense was that they were to you. Of all people he was writing to you. The gasp left your lips and it was far too loud to go unnoticed by the class.

“Sorry, sorry. I just… get really… into the lesson.” You said awkwardly, Professor Binns not buying it but he couldn’t find it in him to really care all that much.

You shrunk back into your seat, hands getting sweaty. You were meeting him… tonight.

The air was brisk as you made your way to the courtyard, you chewed at your bottom lip as you thought about Cedric Diggory sitting there waiting for you. The negative thoughts were being pushed away, he just wasn’t the type to play a prank this mean...was he? Or maybe it wasn’t him at all, those twins have been rather quiet lately.

The thoughts seemed to dissipate as you saw him, you were still a few pillars away and he was sitting on the bench looking at the grass so he hadn’t seen you yet. He was wringing his hands together as his knee bounced, he was nervous. The notion made your heart flutter and a small smile appear on your lips, but fueling you with confidence as you walked closer to him.

Cedric was beyond nervous, and if you didn’t show up within the next ten minutes he was sure that he was going to puke into the bushed to his right. Fortunately for him, he lifted his head to see you walking toward him, a beaming smile on your face and just like that, maybe he didn’t need to be so nervous after all.

“Y/n, you cam-” He was cut off, really glad he hadn’t gotten sick.

Once you reached him, overcome with the feeling of not wanting to be so far anymore, you pulled his head down low enough for you to kiss him. Cedric was quick to act, having been waiting for this moment for a while now, and wrapped his arms around your waist tightly. With no room left between the two of you, Cedric deepened the kiss as he felt your hands run through his hair and tug at the ends. And he for sure thought he was dreaming when he pulled away, reluctantly himself, and watched as your lips trailed after his. He couldn’t help but lean back in, capturing your lips again in another kiss before pulling away.

“I love you, Ced.” Your words were whispered with a smile and his brain went fuzzy.

He smiled big, eyes crinkling as he looked at you, lips swollen, and breathing just a tad quicker than normal.

“Well, thank Merlin for that or else you would’ve been sending very mixed signals, darling.”

His hand came up to brush some hair away from your face as you laughed.

“I am completely, irrevocably, in love with you, Y/n.”

#Cedric Diggory #cedric diggory imagine #cedric diggory x reader #cedric diggory x ravenclaw #Harry Potter imagines

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miracleonice87 · 4 years

Text

Begin Again

a Mathew Barzal song fic

a/n: a one shot based on “Begin Again” by Taylor Swift. obviously I don’t own any of Taylor Swift’s music/lyrics! I’m not even a big Swiftie anymore (edited: lol dying bc I wrote that before she released folklore and evermore and sucked me RIGHT back in) but I love her “Red” album and always listen to it in the fall. also, the NYC traffic/parking/location situation in this is purely fantasy BS, lol.

summary: Mat Barzal meets Hayden Parker (fictional) in a coffee shop, and they start something new.

warnings: swearing. talk of a concussion/migraines/weight loss — otherwise, complete and total fluff.

______

With a deep breath, you glanced at your reflection in the mirror hanging near your front door before you left your Brooklyn apartment. You hadn’t worn these heels for several seasons now — he hadn’t liked it when you wore high heels. You had let his opinions — on your clothes, shoes, music, books, movies, and friends — dictate how you lived for too long. You smirked now, admiring how the pointed-toe snakeskin stilettos looked paired with your raw cut black jeans and silky pink blouse. He would’ve hated this look (“too gaudy,” he would have said), which made you love it that much more.

You popped in one AirPod and flipped the inside lock on your door before pulling it closed. You made your way down the hall as the lyrics started to flow.

There is a young cowboy, he lives on the range

His horse and his cattle are his only companions...

You fought the urge to roll your eyes thinking about your former flame’s constant unwarranted comments about this classic ballad which often wafted through your apartment from the record player in the living room.

“I don’t get this song — like, is he singing to himself?” he would ask. You never bothered to tell him the real background and meaning — you loved the song, and you got it. You always had.

Emerging from the main entrance of your building, you hummed along to melodies from your favorite playlist, and walked the three or so blocks to your destination. Soon, you were stepping in from the bustle of the street to find solace in an only-slightly less busy coffee shop, one you had come to frequent because of its location — sandwiched within the six blocks between your apartment and the fashion magazine where you were interning this semester.

“Hi, one large double shot mocha, please?” you requested, stepping up after the man in front of you paid for his order. You tapped your AirPod to pause your music, just in time to hear: “Nice shoes.”

You lifted your head and glanced toward the pick-up section of the counter, where a classically handsome man in his twenties stood donning a well-tailored navy blue suit. Your heart lurched in your chest as you realized he was looking straight at you.

“Me?” you inquired softly, just to be sure, as you slipped your bank card back into your wallet. He nodded, smiling. “Yes, you. Nice shoes.”

You bit your lip involuntarily, slowly walking his way to wait on your coffee. “Thanks. You’ve got nice style yourself,” you complimented, and you were surprised by your own boldness in that moment. Something about his confidence made you confident, too. And something about his model good looks seemed unsettlingly familiar somehow.

He extended his hand as you took your position next to him. “I’m Mat,” he greeted. You couldn’t help but smile, nearly breathless from his innate charm.

“Hi, Mat,” you replied, engaging his handshake. “I’m Hayden.”

“Hayden. Pretty name for a pretty girl,” Mat mused, holding onto your hand for just a moment longer than was customary. You knew it was silly — God, was it silly — but you felt yourself blush at his flattery.

“Large Americano,” a barista called out. Mat stepped forward, thanking her and stuffing a bill — you couldn’t help but notice that it was a large one — into the tip jar atop the glass pastry display. He turned back to you as he unfastened the lid and blew gently on his coffee. Another thing you couldn’t help but notice — his perfect pink lips.

“So, Hayden, are you a native New Yorker?”

Hmm, you thought. Why isn’t he running for the door after getting his drink? You decided to play along, feeling more daring than you had in ages.

“I am not,” you confessed. “I’m from Maine, actually.”

“Ah, still an East Coast girl,” Mat remarked with a grin. “I’m from the West — near Vancouver.”

You arched your brows. “Wow, Canadian, huh?” Mat chuckled.

“Born and raised. You know what they say, though: opposites attract,” he commented, hazel eyes piercing into you even as he took a cautious sip from his cup. You studied his face — he seemed more familiar with each word he spoke.

“They do say that, don’t they?” you retorted, skirting his inference. Just then, the barista set your mocha on the counter.

“Thank you so much,” you said, also pushing a tip into the jar, thankful that Mat’s attention was on grabbing a cup sleeve from the island nearby instead of on the much smaller bills you had to offer the staff.

You turned toward the island, too, reaching for the cinnamon. Mat offered you a sleeve as if it was second nature, and you graciously accepted, trying to relax the muscles on your face that seemed to have permanently turned upward into a smile since you’d been in the man’s presence.

Suddenly, you gasped.

“Islanders,” you whispered under your breath as Mat watched you stir your cinnamon into your drink. He froze.

“What?” he asked with a nervous laugh, wondering if he had heard you correctly. Your eyes darted around, making sure no one within earshot was paying attention.

“You play for the Islanders. Right?” you asked softly. He nodded, silent, ducking his head a bit; you began to backpedal.

“Oh, God... I didn’t mean - I, uh... I promise I’m not like a hockey fangirl, or anything,” you choked out, cheeks flushed. Your hands started to shake slightly as you replaced the lid on your to-go cup. “I just, uh, my brother. My brother played hockey. He always talked about you, and, uh, I just realized that that’s why I recognized you.” You winced.

“This... this isn’t as weird as it sounds, I swear,” you insisted. “It’s just that, my brother played in the Q. He was good, and, uh, I knew about all the other good hockey players, because of him.”

Mat’s demeanor had quickly changed — from slightly uncomfortable to giddy. He was smirking at you while you sputtered, taking a sort of masochistic pleasure in watching you squirm. His grin was infectious.

“What’s your last name?” he asked when you finally stopped talking. “Parker,” you responded, the two of you stepping away from the island and taking up residence near the front windows of the cafe.

“Parker... Parker,” he repeated. You were distracted by how good your name sounded falling from his tongue. Then, he gasped, too.

“Oh shit, your brother’s Nick Parker? Damn, how’s he doing?”

Your brow quirked as you watched the light flicker on in his eyes when he pieced it together. A National Hockey League star recognized your brother’s name, your name. What the hell was happening?

You cleared your throat, attempting to come back into orbit. “Uh, yeah, he’s good now. He, uh... it was a battle there for a couple years. He had migraines every day for about 16 months... lost a lot of weight. It was... it was tough,” you told him, your voice lowering noticeably. Mat watched you carefully, concern written all over his striking features. It was evident that Mat knew your brother’s story.

Your older brother Nick had been a top 20 prospect in the Quebec Major Junior Hockey League as a teen, playing forward for the Halifax Mooseheads. But after a nasty late hit during a playoff game, he had been left with a debilitating concussion and, after a long period of unsuccessful rehab, had been forced to walk away from the game just as he was entering his prime.

Those troubling days hung like a thick, black fog over your family’s history, and you suddenly recalled being 15 again, cross-legged outside Nick’s bedroom door for hours, begging him to let you into the dark room to hold onto him as he cried, both because of the pain and because of the weight of his unrealized dreams. It had taken countless neurologist appointments, physical therapy, and your parents’ unwavering insistence that he regularly see a sports psychologist for him to return to some semblance of normalcy after a long road to recovery.

Now, minus the occasional treatable migraine, Nick was thriving. You beamed at the thought, your well-polished black nail picking at the corner of the cup sleeve on your mocha as you looked back to Mat and continued.

“But he’s finishing law school now, seeing a therapist and keeps himself in great shape, which helps. He’s getting married next summer to this great girl,” you finished, pride swelling in your chest at how far your brother had come. Mat’s eyebrows lifted, his worried expression morphing into elation.

“No shit!” he exclaimed. “Damn, I’m so happy for him. Tell you what, lotta guys wanted nothing to do with him when he was tearing it up. And we were all gutted for him after it happened.” You gave him a grateful smile.

“Thanks,” you said softly. “I’ll have to let him know you said that.” Mat nodded, then pressed on. “Maybe I’ll get the chance to tell him myself one day,” he added brazenly, casually taking another sip.

No response came to your brain, so you curled your fingers around your own cup and took a long draw, eyes darting to the activity outside the window, Mat’s never leaving your unsure face.

The church bells chiming from a nearby steeple were the only thing that could pull Mat’s gaze from you, as he checked his large-face Rolex. He seemed angered by the time staring back at him, and he ran his hand aggressively through his hair as his eyes rolled just slightly.

“Listen, Hayden, I hate to do this,” Mat began with a sigh. “But we’ve got a game in Pittsburgh tomorrow night, and the team plane leaves in like half an hour.”

You’re surprised by how deflated you feel in that instant, casting a downward glance at the shoes Mat had complimented only minutes ago, before you’d started feeling like maybe you’d known him your whole life.

A quiet, “Oh,” was all you could muster, still not meeting his eyes.

His hand then came to rest on your upper arm, and it’s only then that you noticed how big it was, long fingers curling easily around your bicep.

“But hey... I’ll be back late tomorrow night. Whaddya say we grab coffee here the next morning? Wednesday. Maybe 8?”

You turned your eyes upward to take in his face. He looked hopeful. He was hopeful that he’d see you again.

You nodded. “I’d love to, Mat. I’ll meet you here.”

Mat beamed, a relieved breath falling from his lips. “Good,” he commented. “I’ll see you then.” He leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to your cheek, leaving you reeling when he pulled away.

“Bye, pretty Hayden,” Mat said with a wink before turning and exiting the coffee shop, walking down the block to the Cadillac he’d just unlocked. He was still in sight when he glanced over his shoulder and threw you another breathtaking grin. You smiled back, frozen in place as you watched him drive away.

_____

Mat was going to be late.

At least, that’s what you had convinced yourself at some point within the last 48 hours.

He was either going to be late or he was going to stand you up altogether. So even though you woke up at 5:30 and initially felt the need to rush through your routine to get down to the coffee shop as quickly as possible, you didn’t. You forced yourself to slow down. Because Mat was going to be late. Or, he wasn’t going to be there at all.

So you were surprised when, after throwing on a red chiffon dress with tiny white flowers and a cognac leather jacket, you walked through the coffee shop door at 8:02 and heard, “Hayden!”

Your head snapped up.

At a corner table in the back of the shop was Mat, dressed in a smart grey sweater and distressed black jeans, a silver chain looped around his neck, standing to wave you over with a broad smile across his face.

He came. And he’d arrived before you did.

You walked over to Mat and he embraced you warmly, the two of you exchanging kisses on the cheek. He squeezed your elbow affectionately as you stepped back from him.

“Oh, here. Let me,” Mat said as he pulled your chair out and motioned for you to sit.

“Thank you,” you said quietly, his chivalry catching you by surprise. Once you were seated, he pushed your chair in slightly before taking his place across the table from you.

“I got you a mocha,” he told you, nodding at the cup in front of you. “Double shot, right?”

You nodded. “You’re sweet. Thank you,” you said, the two of you beaming at each other for a moment, lost in a daze.

“So how was the game?” you inquired, pulling you both back to earth. Mat cleared his throat before answering you.

“It was good! We won. It’s usually a tough battle with them but we kinda dominated, which was nice for a change,” he spoke, looking pleased.

“You score?” you asked teasingly as you sipped from your cup.

“Uh, yeah, actually,” he told you with a nervous chuckle, scratching the back of his head. “Two goals and an assist.”

Your eyebrows lifted on your forehead. “Mat, that’s amazing! So my brother was right. You are good.”

Mat shook his head, trying to shrug you off.

“Ah, nah. I kinda think it had more to do with a good luck charm I met this week,” he remarked slyly. You licked your bottom lip before biting on it gently. Mat took notice, mirroring your motions as he stared at your lips.

“So, how’s work been this week?” It was Mat’s turn to deflect.

You told him how hectic it had been, with you arriving at the office around 9 and leaving at 6 on the day you’d first met, then departing after 7 yesterday, despite it being only a part-time internship in addition to the five classes you were taking online. He asked about your combination of on-campus and online learning throughout your college career in order to accommodate your dream internships, and he was already in awe of what a hard worker you were.

You pointed out that you weren’t the only one at the table with a crazy schedule, and you asked him how he balanced hockey with his personal life. He answered you easily, launching into stories about his teammates and his family and his friends who all kept him grounded in different ways. There was one name he kept bringing up — Tito. He told you that you’d have to meet him. Before you could hesitate, you said you’d like to. His visage brightened at that answer. He reminded you of sunshine.

He continued to regale you with a vast array of stories, stopping often to ask you questions and invite you to tell him stories of your own. It took a bit of time, but soon you were opening up about your own life — your parents’ recent and shocking divorce after 30 years of marriage, and your struggle with your grandmother’s death last fall.

It wasn’t all dark, though. In fact, most of it wasn’t. You also told him about the crazy theater actor roommate you’d had when you first moved into the city to study fashion at NYU, and how her frightening antics had eventually pushed you into accepting your uncle’s offer to pay for your own apartment in the city, as he was single and childless and had always delighted in spoiling you and your brother. You told him about your only two cousins on your dad’s side, two siblings bracketing you and your brother in age, and how the four of you were more like siblings than cousins. You told a slightly off-color joke at your own expense that most of your friends and coworkers would never laugh at, but it left Mat breathless, throwing his head back with boyish giggles flowing from his mouth like your favorite song. This caught you off-guard — you couldn’t believe he actually seemed to think you were funny. The last one certainly never did.

At some point, the conversation shifted to music. Mat’s jaw dropped when you told him that you own every James Taylor album on vinyl, after he told you that that’s one of his favorite artists of all time. He said he’s never met anyone who has as many James Taylor records as you. You simply shrugged. You explained that you and your mom have seen every tour James Taylor has been on since you were eleven and had started playing guitar. Mat’s eyes went wide — he told you that he dabbles in guitar, too.

After this, you quieted a bit. He noticed. It comes off to him as shyness, but you know what it really is. It’s fear. All at once you realize just how far you’ve let your guard down with this stranger. You’ve only just met this person, yet you have more in common with him than anyone you’ve encountered since moving into the city.

He sensed that something was off, so, in the silence, he reached a hand across the table and took yours in his grasp, stroking the back of it with his thumb. You looked into his mesmerizing eyes, and your hesitance melted.

After several more minutes of easy conversation, you check the time. You need to be at work in ten minutes.

“I’m sorry to be the one to break this up this time,” you started, and Mat sat back, looking understanding though disappointed. “But I’ve gotta get to work. Thankfully, it’s just right down the street.”

“Let me walk you,” Mat quickly insisted. You smirked at him, digging in your purse to find your office key.

“Didn’t you drive here?” you asked, chuckling. He simply shrugged. “Yeah, but if pretty Hayden works just down the street, I might as well walk her to the office and spend a few extra minutes with her,” he told you with a smug grin. You felt your cheeks get hot.

“Sounds good to me,” you admitted quietly. Mat nodded, then rose from his chair, reaching for his wallet to leave another tip.

“Thank you,” you said, putting your hand on his forearm tenderly. “For the coffee. For this.”

He smiled down at you. “You’re welcome,” he replied.

The two of you walked out the cafe door, which Mat pushed open even from behind you. You pointed in the direction of your office building and the two of you fell into step, side by side. Your heart leapt when Mat reaches for your hand. It felt unbelievably natural — which terrified you.

Your recent relationship history flashed through your brain all at once, like a film reel. Your brain screamed, “Slow down!” while your heart whispered, “Relax.” You weren’t sure which to believe. You opened your mouth to bring him up, to give a fair warning, to tell Mat that you might not be ready for... whatever this was.

Then, he started to talk about the movies that his family watches every single Christmas. You weren’t at all sure what had brought that subject to his mind — maybe your earlier questions about his younger sister back in Coquitlam — but you’re grateful for the diversion from your own messy mind. You decided to engage him on that topic instead, rather than bring up your last boyfriend who’d shattered you then walked away.

And for the first time in eight months, you decided to leave what’s past, in the past.

Like a pinball machine, Mat had already bounced to yet another new topic — his practice later this morning. As he finished a story about pranking Tito in the locker room after a skate last week, you bubbled over with giggles. He watched you with admiration and wonder coursing through his entire being. You eventually observed how he was gazing at you, and you sensed that he had something more important to say than his joke on his teammate.

“Hey, so, uh,” Mat started, clearing his throat. Your suspicion had been correct. “What are you doing tomorrow night, after work? We have a home game tomorrow at 7:30 and I, uh, I wanted to see if maybe... you wanted to go? I requested a ticket for you... just in case you want it. If you do... I was thinking maybe we could grab dinner after?”

The sentences Mat spoke seemed to be rolled into one giant question mark. His unwavering self-assurance had seemed to falter slightly for the first time since you’d met him, surprising you. You only needed a moment to consider your answer.

“I’d love to come watch you play,” you told him, wrapping your hands around his upper arm affectionately. You watched him exhale, a smile slowly overtaking his face.

“Thank God,” Mat breathed, making you both burst into hysterics as he leaned his head down to touch yours for a moment.

Bewilderment overcame you as you realized that you hadn’t felt this way about anyone in... you couldn’t even remember how long. You’d thought it might never happen again. That for you, this feeling might just be... gone.

You couldn’t believe that on a Wednesday, in a cafe, you’d watched it begin again.

192 notes · View notes

jiminwreckedme · 4 years

Text

Unfamiliar. (m)

Yoongi doesn’t feel so unfamiliar anymore, now that you feel things you haven’t before.

Genre - Smut, little angst if you peek, fuckbuddy Au (not so pwp, the characters have a bit of a backstory?) Word Count - 12K Pairing - (Bartender!) Yoongi x (Doctor!) Reader Warnings - bit of PDA (touching, making out), dirty talk of sorts, fingering, oral (male and female receiving), penetrative sex, unprotected sex (Remember folks, No glove, no love), rough sex (maybe slight choking? and restriction too) Music - High for this, Pillowtalk

You don’t know, what’s in store, but you know what you’re here for.

“What can I get you?”

You blink at him with absolute disbelief etched across your face.

“Are you serious?”

“I’m serious.”

What a killjoy.

“Fine.” You give in and lean, resting your elbows on the cold granite stone of the counter. “Surprise me.”

Close your eyes, lay yourself beside me

He stares at you intently for a moment, a very brief moment before he replies.

“Do you have any preferences? What kind of alcohol do you usually get?”

He knows the answer to that.

“Hard liquor.”

Hold tight for this ride. We don’t need no protection

“How do you feel about gin?” He points at a bottle on the shelf behind him. “We have a fine bottle of Copper & Kings, the History of lovers.”

You look at it and cross your arms, eyebrows arched up. Really?

“Or scotch maybe? Lagavulin, 16 years old, has a bit of a savory taste if that’s what you like?”

He knows the answer to that as well.

You don’t reply, looking at him pointedly but he waits, ever so ignorantly for you to use your words.

Come alone, We don’t need attention.

You give up and roll your eyes before answering him. “Remy martin.”

“Sure, how would you like it? Neat, on the rocks, straight up?-”

“Now you’ve got to be kidding me-”

“This isn’t a place to joke around Y/n,” His voice is threateningly low, yet you hear it above all that music. “You are in my workplace.”

Open your hand, take a glass. Don’t be scared, I’m right here.

“If you don’t want me to fix you a drink, I have other customers to handle, excuse me.”

Before you can even answer the question he walks away, grabbing the jigger, artfully spinning it with his fingers.

You stare at him shamelessly, oblivious to everything else, mouth going dry. Of course he was hot, Oh Min Yoongi was hot, but there was something about him standing behind that counter that was unbelievably attractive.

Even though you don’t roll. Trust me girl, you’ll wanna be high for this.

Maybe it was because he was dressed in that spotless see-through white shirt, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, all those veins stark against his skin every time he gripped something. Maybe because he had ditched his signature style of those blonde fringes falling into his eyes and had them pushed back, out of his face. Maybe because he was doing his job, hands working fast as though they had a brain of their own, fixing all those drinks with incredible artistic skill. Or maybe because you hadn’t been laid in about three weeks now.

For whatever reason, you were tempted to just pull him by the collar over the counter and kiss the fuck out of him.

But he walks past about 4 times without looking at you even once.

You know because you sit arms crossed, your eyes following his every action. He knows you’re looking at him. You know he knows. Because almost 15 minutes later, he brings two bottles, setting them on the work space right before you, a little less gently than you would have expected, speaking to you in the same tone as earlier, but with a hint of annoyance.

“What do you want?”

“Would it kill you to talk to me normally for a minute Yoongi? Like I’m not a customer but someone who you-”

“Watch your mouth,” He shuts you up knowing very well what you were going to say next. “This is not just any place Y/n, I work here. You can’t just turn up here like this.”

“You come to my workplace all the time.”

“You work at a hospital, it’s not the same.”

“How is it not the same?”

Yoongi gives up and he returns his momentary undivided attention towards you back to the drinks in his hands.

“Because people go to your workplace to get treated, like I do.” Your eyes are fixed on the way his hands move. So artistic. “People come to my workplace to drink, and you’ve come here to-”

You look up, meeting his eyes to find him already looking at you.

“-to fuck.”

No I did not.

What, it was okay for him to say that? Although the music was louder now than before, and with no one within an earshot of you, there’s no way anyone but you could have heard him.

“You know, it’s not like I’d say no if you came to the hospital for sex.” You mutter stupidly under your breath. Please tell me you didn’t hear that.

“Not now Y/n,” Ok, he didn’t hear that. “I’m in the middle of work.”

And he walks away again, grabbing a bottle, fixing the pourer onto it.

You watch, as he slowly spills the drink over the back of a spoon into an already half full shot glass before setting it carefully on the counter. Spinning a lighter on his finger, he clicks it and lights the surface on fire, earning the many many squeals of what looked like a bachelorette party. Though he resumes working, wiping a few glasses, he is watching the supposed bride from he corner of his eye as she downs her shot within seconds amidst all the cheering and slams the glass down, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, satisfied. The edges of his lips curl into a faint smile, the contentment evident on his face despite his attempts to not to make it obvious. He was proud of his work. When he looks away from them, he sees you again and simply sighs, walking away once more to the other side of the station.

It’s a whole ten minutes before he has work in the area you are sitting, ever so patiently. You take your chance to ask him.

“You didn’t mention when your working hours were going to end?”

“When the bar closes.” He begins to wipe the water near the ice bar and doesn’t even look up when he answers. “Two, two-thirty.”

“Fine, I’ll wait then.”

That’s what gets his attention, making him stop and meet your eye.

“It’s half past 11 Y/n.”

“I know.”

“That’s almost 3 hours.”

“I know.”

He raises an eyebrow. “For sex?”

With you. “For a conversation.”

Bending down, he grabs what looks like a bottle from below the counter and slams the mouth of it on the edge of the surface, knocking the cap off, before handing it to you. “Go home Y/n, It’s not worth it.”

“You don’t get to decide that for me.” You point at the beer bottle he’s put in front of you. “And this is not what I ordered.”

“You live far from here. Best not to get you too tipsy or drunk so you can go back safe.”

You look at him exasperated. “Yoongi-”

“What are you doing here in the first place?” He frowns at you. “Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I had the shift off for working overtime last week.”

“And you’re here? Instead of staying at home?”

Valid and rhetoric question. You did love staying at home, he knew you enough to know that. Turning up at a bar on your day off was quite uncharacteristic of you. Days off meant more time curled up in your bed, more documentaries to watch and just get lazy. If you weren’t someone who took every opportunity to stay at home you would never even have met Yoongi.

He was your brother’s tutor.

In a family full of doctors and scientists, your 16 year old brother was the only person insistent on becoming a fashion designer. You had assumed his passion was limited to collecting and maintaining a few catalogues and sketching designs for his blog. It was only when he was almost half way through his high school that he revealed his sincerity towards it. He was so determined, he even managed to contact some designer in Korea to intern under after he was done studying. But that meant he had to learn at least basic Korean and that’s how Yoongi came into picture. Your parents thought finding a Korean tutor in Amsterdam would be nearly impossible and frankly so did you. Until a few days later, when you got the fright of your life.

You had gotten off work early and returned home with your then boyfriend, the both of you giggling and walking in, thinking you were all alone. As the two of you sat on the couch, impatiently making out, it was then that Yoongi walked in on both of you with a simple “Could you please keep it down?” And walked back into the house.

That was the first time you saw him.

About 6 months from that day, you were in your bed grabbing the sheets as he covered your mouth with one hand and made you come with his other.

It still boggled your mind, how you went from being embarrassed whenever you saw him to sleeping with him every time you had the chance to.

It started maybe 2 days after your asshole of a boyfriend dumped you.

You were moping around the house that day after refusing to attend the baby shower of some acquaintance with the rest of your family. It was just as you were about to crawl into bed and get comfy that the bell rang and you opened the door to find Yoongi standing there. Apparently your brother hadn’t informed him about his new plans and so Yoongi turned up for the lesson as per schedule.

That’s when things started spiraling out of hand.

When he told you he would just wait on the porch for his friend to pick him up, you shouldn’t have invited him into the house you were in all alone. When he came inside and sat on the couch, you shouldn’t have told him to find you if he needed anything (even though you said it for formality’s sake). When you knew he was in the house, just one floor below you, you shouldn’t have tried to get yourself off in your room.

If you hadn’t done any of that you wouldn’t have found yourself with your fingers deep inside you, back arching off the bed when Min Yoongi knocked on your door and opened it before you could even tell him not to.

At that moment time went very strangely. It was as though he was standing at the door frame for unbelievably long, giving you all the time in the world to pull out your fingers, shut your legs close, sit up and then think of a hundred different things to say without even saying one word.

And then time sped up all of a sudden, because you have no idea how, you didn’t remember at all, but somehow Yoongi was by your bed leaning over you, planting his hand into the mattress right beside your head (Weren’t you sitting? When did you even lie down?) and then his fingers slipped into you.

That feeling of his fingers replacing yours? It was so unfamiliar but so good. They were so much longer, shaking much less, the pace so consistent - the sensation was wild. With a few thrusts he had managed to figure out how and where exactly to curl his fingers to draw that long moan out of you. And as you got louder, he got faster, not stopping for anything. Not even when he heard the car pull up in your driveway. Not even when he heard the front door opening. Not even when he clearly heard the voices of your family.

When you tried to warn him, instead of pulling them out, he covered your mouth with his hand and whispered, curling his fingers just the way you needed him to. “Shh, be a good girl and come for me Y/n.”

And you did, almost instantly, giving yourself just enough time to (1), ride the high on his fingers before (2), he pulled them out and calmly hid himself, standing against the wall right by the door while (3), you pulled the sheets over your half bare body - all just in time, before your father opened the door of your room to check up on you.

After you assured him you were fine, he left, closing the door behind him, slowly revealing Yoongi who stood there calmly, simply watching you propped up on your elbows looking at him as he slipped both his fingers into his mouth, sucking your arousal clean off his fingers before he left, a smirk dancing on his face. And as you fell back into your bed staring at the ceiling in absolutely disbelief, you heard him making his way down the stairs, updating your family on everything right up to the part where he stood by your bedroom door.

And that’s how your first orgasm with Yoongi happened.

And though you knew it was not right to let a man you barely knew do that to you again, a part of you knew that was definitely not your last orgasm with him.

The next time you saw him, about two days later, he was absolutely normal, behaving with you like he always did, like all that did not even happen. Even when you found him alone for a minute in the dining room and told him you had to talk to him, all he said was “Not now, I’m in the middle of work.” Almost an hour later, he approached you while you were strolling outside, in the backyard, surfing through your phone. When you saw him out there, your first reaction for some reason was to panic and try to hide him away from the eyes of anyone who might see you together. Yoongi was clearly confused the whole time, especially when you climbed the dog kernel right under your bedroom window, and sneaked into your own room in broad daylight, ( similar to your teenage days when you came back home late at night). But he calmly just followed you.

When you found him in your room alone once again, that was when you finally spoke to him.

“We haven’t spoken about….that incident.”

“What about it?”

“You- I mean I- that was a one time thing Yoongi, you understand?”

“This is what you wanted to talk about?”

“Yes.”

“Are you done?”

“Y-Yes?”

“So I can go now?”

You look at him surprised. “Do you have nothing to say?”

“No. If you don’t want this, then there’s nothing left to say.”

“If I wanted more then?”

“Then I’d say, I thought so.”

“W-what?”

“I have never had one time encounters Y/n, I don’t do them and never will.”

“Why is that?”

“Isn’t it obvious?”

Of course, it was. The way you felt when you got off his fingers? Who wouldn’t want to ride that high again? Women probably crawled back to him all the time, and he probably couldn’t have one time encounters even if he wanted to.

“I don’t like to.” He shrugs very simply. “I like to work on the basis of…..you can call it an agreement.”

“What kind of agreement?”

“Just two rules.”

Rules?

“First, while this is going on, I won’t sleep with anyone else and you shouldn’t either.” He gives a pause letting you take in that information before he continues. “Second, If either of us should want to end it, for whatever reason, then we tell the other person and we’re done. No justifications, no explanations needed. When one person says no, it ends, as simple as that.”

You stared at him, not knowing what to say.

“I am only going to proceed if you are okay with that Y/n. All you have to do is ask.” He takes a step closer to you. “Ask me and I’ll give it to you.”

At that moment you really didn’t think it through when you said yes. You just wanted him. And that day after you made sure you locked the door this time, Min Yoongi made you come with his tongue not once but twice.

It had been going on since that day.

Though quite frankly, you didn’t know what to call yourselves. This was exclusive after all and a sort of commitment as well but nowhere even close to a relationship. He wasn’t exactly a booty call either. You couldn’t just text or call him every time you were horny, Yoongi wasn’t a man who entertained those kinds of requests. Sex, hence only happened in certain conditions and that was whenever came to your house.

So Min Yoongi who used to come to your house every weekend to tutor your brother began staying for an extra hour to ‘tutor’ you as well. When you told your parents you wanted to learn Korean, it was a miracle they didn’t question it. Maybe because Yoongi didn’t charge extra for teaching you (“I’m not going to charge to fuck you Y/n, that’s not how this works.”) or maybe because your extremely social parents were barely at home during the weekends and didn’t really care much about what their adult daughter did. Much like your brother who spent most of his time holed up in the basement working on his own thing. That left you and Yoongi all alone in your room for an hour twice a week. Yes, sex with him was technically pre-scheduled. So he was far from a booty call.

Could you call yourselves fuck buddies then? Initially you didn’t know if you could, you both were not even close to what you would consider ‘buddies’ - you barely spoke. Every time you and Yoongi found yourselves together, you only ever had sex. You could barely remember an incident or two when you didn’t actually fuck upon finding yourselves alone. Once when he saw a scar on your body and asked you what it was. You remember telling him, showing him the other scars too, telling the stories behind each of them and he did the same when you asked him. You didn’t remember sleeping with him that day. Or on that day when Yoongi turned up in animated pizza printed underwear and you couldn’t stop laughing. That day you didn’t have sex either. Instead you showed him all your printed underwear as a peace offering.

But that was about it. There were no other instances as far as you could remember. But if you really did have to give the relationship between you two a name, you preferred to call yourselves fuck buddies. You don’t know what Yoongi thought of that, you always just referred to it as ‘the agreement’.

And the agreement was going like it was for the last one year - just fine, till about three weeks ago, when your brother told Yoongi he didn’t need to be tutored anymore.

You were wondering what that meant for you and Yoongi. Because if he wasn’t going to come home for your brother anymore, it made no sense coming home for just you. You had no idea how you were going to continue this arrangement of yours now and only hoped that Yoongi had some alternative in mind. You tried calling him about it but he didn’t pick up. You dropped him a bunch of texts but he didn’t reply to any. Was he busy? Was he ignoring you? You didn’t know.

Your last ray of hope was that weekend. Your parents and brother had planned to go to Korea for a week to attend the new collection launch of the designer your brother was in contact with. You could have gone too, expect you had to go to work. That’s what you told yourself but deep down you knew that meeting Yoongi was also a part of your agenda. For all you knew, that weekend could have been your last time with him. So you sent him a message that you were all alone at home this weekend and just sat with your fingers crossed, hoping he would turn up.

He didn’t show up on Saturday.

And didn’t show up on Sunday either.

Another week passed by like that and then another. With you calling him only to reach voicemail, with you sending him texts only to be replied with silence. It was starting to reach the point where you actually began worrying about whether he was even okay or not because, was it really normal to ignore someone for so long? And you didn’t even know how to meet him at least to make sure he was at least alright. You had no idea where he lived, where else he worked, what other jobs he did, nothing. You knew nothing about him.

Except that he was some sort of expert when it came to alcohol. You were surprised when you came across some of his papers on which he had scribbled, in the messiest handwriting possible, some recipes for cocktails. Back then you didn’t think about why he had such stuff written down, rather you were more fascinated by all those interesting concoctions and so you excitedly asked him about each of them while he calmly answered them. (Oh. That was another day you didn’t have sex with him.)

That night though, you had thought about it, why he might’ve known so much. It was one thing to have an opinion on different kinds of alcohol but to know things such as what kind of ice and what kind of strainer to use? That was definitely not general knowledge, he undoubtedly was a professional of some sort. You had made a mental note to ask him the next time you saw him but you couldn’t. Not when his dick was thrusted deep inside you, his mouth hot on your neck.

A few days ago, when you took a closer look at his profile picture as you sat for the hundredth time wondering why he wasn’t getting back to you, in the background you saw the neon letters spelling out the name of a bar (Truck You) you had only heard about quite often. Putting two and two together, you began wondering if Min Yoongi might actually be a bartender of some sorts and if that was his workplace. There was only one way to find out and that was to personally go there and see for yourself but you were swarmed with night shifts at the hospital and heading to a bar was out of question.

Till today, when you finally got a day off because your friend offered to take your shift to repay a favor last week. And the moment you got free your first thought drifted towards looking out for Yoongi. Even though you knew it could be pointless - he might go there often or he might even have just been there once - and there was no guarantee you’d find him there today, this was your shot in the dark. You had one chance to try and one place you could do so at. So you took it.

And it paid off because the minute you walked in, your eyes fell on Yoongi behind the counter. At that moment there was just a wave of mixed emotions. You were happy he was fine, you were proud of yourself for finding him, you were mad that he was absolutely okay and just ignored you for three weeks, you were so turned on seeing him dressed like that - so many things at once. But you squashed all those feelings in and just sat on the bar stool waiting for him to react when he spots you. It had been so long since you saw him, you had to first make sure this was not a dream. And when he finally did see you a few minutes later, his eyes widened for barely a second (so this was real) before he resumed looking completely indifferent.

And he still looked so unbothered as he worked that cocktail shaker effortlessly. It was as though you didn’t even exist and you couldn’t do anything about it. All that could be done now was wait.

And you do, boredly squirming, tapping your finger on the surface, occasionally sipping on the beer which had gone pretty flat, looking at him whip up all those drinks for what seemed excruciatingly long. You did that till you heard a voice.

“The bar is about to close.”

Your eyes fly open and find a man dressed much like Yoongi, standing right before you with a name tag that read ‘Hoseok.’ When did you even fall asleep and for how long? Your first instinct is to look for Yoongi.

He wasn’t there.

“Where’s Yoongi?”

“It’s my turn to clean up today so I guess he’s done for the day?”

“He left?”

“I didn’t see him leave the bar though. He might still be changing?”

“Where?”

Hoseok scratches the back of his head. “I’m not sure you can go there though, it’s for staff only.”

You sigh, really tired of everything. “Please.”

Hoseok looks at you with what seemed like pity in his eyes. “Are you Y/n?”

“H-How do you know?”

“There.” He points, but you don’t look. “The room next to the back door.”

“But how do you know my-”

“He’s leaving.”

You turn to see Yoongi far across the crowd on the dance floor, stepping out of the room in his usual simple tee and ripped jeans outfit. Hurriedly thanking Hoseok you rushed through the crowd “sorry, sorry.” till you finally reached the blonde man and grab him by the wrist to his absolute surprise and drag him away from the music out of the back door.

When you step out, the first thing that hits you is the smell of the trash from all the trash cans nearby, but you don’t care.

You let go of Yoongi and cross your arms but he beats you to the conversation.

“I was going to come talk to you.”

You cut it, straight to the point. “Why did not talk to me all these days?”

“Y/n,” He sighs, “I’ve just been busy.”

“How busy do you have to be to not find the time to type two words?” You unlock the phone in your hand and hold up your chat over the days, forcing him to see it.

You : Yoongi, are you okay? You : Please say something, I’m getting scared. You : Just say you’re okay and I can be at peace. You : Where are you Yoongi? You : Why are you doing this? You : Please, please just tell me once that you’re fine.

“I’m fine.” You put your phone down sighing. “That’s all you had to say to all this, that you’re fine. Do you know how worried I was?”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? It’s been 3 weeks and I haven’t heard a word from you, I was scared something happened-”

“To our agreement?”

What? That’s what he thought you were worried about? Sex? Yeah of course, for a day, maybe two but after that you had been worried for his life. Wasn’t it basic humanity to? To worry and care for people you were associated with? Would he have not felt the same if he was in your place? Or were you the one thinking about this more than you needed to?

“Yes.” You lie. “You said our agreement would end only if we tell each other we wanted it to end. Ghosting me for three weeks was not mentioned-”

“I don’t want it to end.” He says it instantly and so earnestly. “That’s why I didn’t say anything.”

He didn’t want to end things?

Deep down, this was your biggest fear, something you didn’t even admit to yourself. Being worried for Yoongi’s general well-being helped suppress every other reason for panic but with him standing in front of you and knowing that he was okay, there was only one thing left to be scared of. That he wanted to end things. That if Yoongi said he didn’t want this agreement anymore you’d have to stop seeing each other. You didn’t want to stop.

“So you…..you don’t want to end things.”

Yoongi shakes his head.

“You don’t want to end things, you won’t reply to me, you won’t sleep with me and I can’t sleep with anyone else either, do you know how frustr-”

“Do you want to sleep with anyone else?”

His question throws you off. Out of all the things you had listed that’s what he catches? If he wasn’t ignoring you because he was planning on ending the agreement then….Is it because that’s what’s bothering him?

“Wait Yoongi, this isn’t one of those ‘I’m catching feelings for you’ kind of situations right?”

He blinks for a bit and then lets out a short laugh. “Are you mad?”

“Then….then what’s the problem?”

“I told you, I was busy.”

“With what Yoongi? What were you so busy with that you send me a message-”

“I lost my scholarship.” He confesses, taking you aback. “I have one term left to finish my degree in English Language. They cut my grants off because of some new rules and now I have to pay full tuition payment for a term and……I don’t think I can afford it.”

“Oh.” You stutter, completely thrown off by the information. “I-I’m so sorry Yoongi, I didn’t know that.”

“You don’t know anything.”

That was unfair.

“How would I?” You whisper softly. “It’s not like you told me-”

“I don’t need to Y/n.” He smiles sadly. “We don’t mean enough to each other to share so much.”

As much as those words were true they still made you feel strangely disappointed.

“Can….can I ask you what you’re going to do about it now?” You immediately add. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

“I’m not eligible to get a decent loan with the earnings of a bartender. The only way to do this is…..to earn the money myself.” He reveals. “I’ve been trying to get a job over the last few weeks. I applied to couple of places and last week I got an offer, to teach Korean in this tuition center, over the weekends.”

“That’s great!” You smile, deeply relieved on the inside. “I’m so happy for you…How has it been working there?”

“I haven’t accepted their offer yet though.”

“What?” You’re washed over by a wave of shock. “Why not?”

“I’ve been considering dropping out instead,” He slips his hands into his pocket. “I want to follow my dream over what I think my dream should be.”

You know exactly what he means. It hits home. You always thought your dream was should be being a doctor, you grew up with the idea, you were brought up with the idea, you convinced yourself that it was your dream. But all those posters in your house stuck inside your cupboards, those stages, those costumes, those routines. That should have been your dream. Being a dancer should have been your dream.

“What is your dream?”

“To be my own boss.” He smiles. “Open my own bar one day. Maybe a chain. Serve the best kind of alcohol in the whole city. Have crazy Friday nights with packed tables and happy people. That’s my dream.”

“Then why….”

“It’s not a small investment, something like that. Even if I work 7 days of the week, save almost every cent of what I earn, it will be years before I can make enough money to do something like that. I thought the more practical approach to life then was to just change the dream”

He sighs, chest rising then falling.

“But whenever I look at the tuition fee I have to pay to finish this degree? It doesn’t make any sense to me. If I really had to churn up so much money, I figured I might as well put it where it makes me happy instead.”

“So you mean you want to drop out and…then what?”

“Kick start my dream by writing a book.” A book? “More of guide to be honest, for bartenders, it’ll have tips and techniques, how to actually use equipment, recipes, things of that sort. You’d be surprised how many people out there call themselves professional without knowing basic things like what ice to use-”

“Ice that’s not cloudy.” You state confidently, catching Yoongi off guard and shrug. “You told me this once. Ice is to a bartender what fire is to a chef.”

So that’s what all those notes had been about.

“Yeah.” He looks impressed. “But that means I have to experiment a lot, invest too much time and money, I don’t think I can do that with two jobs and continuing a degree. I have to decide what to hold on to and what to let go.”

Did you choose to let go us?

“Is that….is this why you’ve been so- I mean, is this why you couldn’t reply to me?”

“I need to sort things in my life first Y/n, and our agreement…… I didn’t think I should prioritize it at this point.”

“Of course not.” You shake your head. “I’m the stupid one, I should’ve understood you had your own problems, I’m so sorry, I just….I was being an idiot, I guess I was just so used to you being a constant the last one year, it was strange cutting off everything all of a sudden. I probably” You let out a short stupid laugh, “Probably even missed you-”

“Probably?” He chuckles. “I for one, definitely missed you.”

“Yeah sure.” You mock him, trying to lighten the mood even more, now that he was smiling again. “You wouldn’t have been able to stand so far away if you really did-”

He takes two quick strides and the rest of you words are lost against his mouth as he kisses you, trapping you between his hands against the wall. There’s a mix of urgency and gentleness in the way he moves, as though he badly wanted this but also wanted to take his time. You didn’t take his word for it, but it almost seems like he really did miss you. You take his face in your hands, gaining control, easing your lips against his, savoring the moment, not wanting to rush it through. Yoongi groans softly, low in his throat pulling your hands down with his, pinning them above you, against the wall kissing your neck as he whispered. “It was so hard to resist the urge to do this the moment I saw you.”

Your breathing becomes more audible as you arch off the wall, baring more of your throat to him, spiraling, getting lost in the sensation, before you finally manage to find the voice to ask him to stop.

“I’m….I’m not going to have sex with you near the trash cans Yoongi.”

He pulls back, face so close to yours as he grinned. “It’s been three weeks, I thought you might be desperate enough to.” There he was.

“You give yourself too much credit.” You wriggle your hands making him loosen his grip. You wanted him so badly, it had really had been way too long but the smell of the trash? You couldn’t bear it. “I just can’t here, the smell kinda ruins the mood.”

“Yeah we should get out of here.” Yoongi let’s your hand go, taking a step back. Where to though? “Let me grab my things.”

You nod and walk into the bar as Yoongi holds the door open for you.

Maybe because it’s much later at night but the lights were dimmer and the crowd was much lesser and the music was a lot slower and a lot sexier than you remembered it. You can feel your body automatically swaying to the music, forgetting the world around you. You didn’t even notice when Yoongi stepped in behind you and walked into the changing rooms.

Climb on board, We’ll go slow and high tempo

Letting the music lead you, you walk in, to the edge of the dance floor and let your body move the way it feels its right. It felt so good to dance again. You’re so lost in your own private bubble, it takes a while before you notice Yoongi standing in his leather jacket, backpack slung over one shoulder, just staring at you.

You beckon him towards you with a smile and he complies but he doesn’t take your hand when you hold it out, shaking his head instead.

“I don’t dance.”

You laugh and reach for his wrists instead, pulling him closer, wrapping them around your waist.

Light and dark. Hold me hard and mellow

“What a pity, women find a man who can dance attractive.”

“That’s a personal preference.”

“It’s a scientific fact.”

Yoongi chuckles. “As far as I remember, when you entered the club, you walked past all those ‘dancing men’ and sat right there for 3 hours” He points at the stool on the other side of the floor with a tilt of his head, that cocky look on his face. “What does that tell you?”

You shrug, continuing to play with the metal of the chain resting on his chest, as though you didn’t know the answer to that.

I’m seeing the pain, seeing the pleasure. Nobody but you, ‘body but me. ‘Body but us, bodies together.

“Those men may move their bodies however they like, but a woman likes a man who knows her body.” His voice is so fucking deep. “Like I know yours.”

“Do you now?” You run your finger along the line of his jaw. “It’s been so long since you’ve even touched me-”

“Doesn’t matter.” He presses himself onto you and you can feel it. How incredibly hard he’s gotten. “No one knows you like I do, I can promise you that.”

Your lips curl into a smile as you run your hand from his chest to all the way down there, rubbing him ever so slightly over the material of his jeans. “I could say the same”

I love to hold you close, tonight and always. I love to wake up next to you.

You want to see a warning flash in his eyes or some sort of reaction to your actions, but all he does is let out a breath. “It’s been three weeks, I didn’t think you would be in the state to tease.”

“I figured if you could leave me like that for so long, a few minutes shouldn’t hurt you-”

“3 hours.” Yoongi stares at you with an intensity you’ve never seen in his eyes before. “Ever since you walked into the bar and sat there.”

I love to hold you close, tonight and always. I love to wake up next to you.

“Nonsense.” You put your arms around his neck, laughing. He was being ridiculous after all. “You barely looked at me the whole time.”

“I didn’t need to. Not when all I could think of was having you bent over that counter with your panties around your ankles.”

So we’ll piss off the neighbors.

You almost gasp, eyes widening, feeling that throbbing sensation in your core. Yoongi never speaks like this outside your bedroom.

“I just couldn’t stop thinking about it.”

“About w-what?”

He turns you around, your back against his erection pressing into you, his lips on the skin of your shoulder making their way up. He’s holding you in place with just one arm across your waist, his other hand is drawing circles on the skin your extremely short dress was exposing.

In the place that feels the tears. The place to lose your fears.

“Your moans” He’s not even whispering, he’s making sure he’s heard. “The way you sound when I’m fucking you, when you say my name.”

“The way your hands run down my back and how it feels to be inside you, so tight,” Its like he knows you clenched your walls at that exact moment. “fuck so tight all time, its like I’ve not been there a hundred times already.”

Reckless behavior.

“Yoongi-”

“And how you smell, that scent of you drives me crazy,” His voice suddenly goes so low, you unwillingly feel yourself swallow nothing. “and I can smell it right now. Is that how wet you are already?” You still can’t move. “I’m sure I can easily slide in two fingers. Maybe even three? You’re a good girl, I know you can take it.”

A place that is so pure, so dirty and raw.

It’s so hard for words to leave you. “I-I know something better you can put inside me Min Yoongi.”

He chuckles, “I offered to earlier today, you said I give myself too much credit.”

“Did you really take my word for it?” You turn to him, pressing your hips into his.

He lets out a small laugh. “Have you always been this easy to please?” There was so much pride in his voice. But he deserved to feel that. You were practically a puddle in his hands. “I can’t remember”

“Fuck me and you will.” You can’t hear or think of anything else, your hands finding that tiny cold metal of his pants and they start to unzip it already, forcing Yoongi to hold your wrist and stop you.

“I’m not sure this is the right place for it-”

“I take it back, I don’t mind doing it near the backdoor, trash cans or not.”

Yoongi smirks at your desperation. “We’ve been waiting for 3 hours, I think we both deserve more than that.”

“Yoongi…..” You whine, desperate. “Where do you want to go then? My parents will be home now.”

“I know….” He trails off for a bit. “I know a place nearby we can go to, about 10 minutes away. Would that be okay with you?”

After all these months was Yoongi finally taking you to his house?

“10 minutes is all you get.”

“Perfect.” He steps back flashing his gummy smile, holding his hand out. “Let’s go.”

The moment he leads you into the darkness of his house and shuts the door behind you, you don’t waste time and press him up against it, hooking you fingers in his belt loops, slamming your lips onto his. And he responds by letting his backpack slip from his shoulder onto the floor before he takes your face in his hand, slipping his tongue into your mouth, eliciting that soft whimper from you. His hands don’t wait there, wandering down, caressing your neck before he pushes his jacket that you had borrowed during the bike ride here off your shoulders, making you quickly reach behind and drag the sleeves down your arms before crumpling it unbothered and throwing it, however far your arm could extend.

“Careful!” Yoongi abruptly pulls back, making you almost bite your own lip as he cautions you, pointing at the silhouette of a vase you nearly knocked down with the jacket. “I have no idea how expensive anything is here. We don’t want to fall into any kind of trouble.”

You freeze.

All that excitement, the awe, the thrill, everything in you extinguishes in a second, the moment you hear that statement.

“Yoongi. This-this isn’t your house?”

“I wish.” He chuckles, hand searching the wall for the switches and flipping them on upon finding them. “My house isn’t even a quarter the size of this.”

When your eyes adjust to the brightness and you are finally able to see something other than shadows, you’re awestruck because the place is, well, absolutely beautiful. The white and blue tones of the walls, the slightly antique looking furniture, all those books racked up in bookshelves and those paintings on the walls - none of it looked even close to what you would imagine his place to look like.

“Oh my god, this isn’t your house.”

Yoongi shakes his head as if it’s that simple.

“A friend’s house?”

He shakes his head again.

“Do you even know who lives here?”

“For someone who was eager enough to do it by the trashcans you are having an awful lot of questions now.”

“Yoongi, just answer.”

He picks up his jacket and backpack from the floor and walks in casually to dump it on the couch.

“No, I don’t really know who lives here.”

You freeze. “Oh my god, what are we doing here?!”

He shrugs. “You said you couldn’t wait.”

“What?!” Your voice leaves you as angry whispers. “Yoongi, that doesn’t mean we trespass into someone’s private-”

“Relax Y/n. I have the keys.” He fishes them out from his back pocket, jiggling them at you before he throws them onto the couch as well. “ I have permission, this is far from illegal. My housing agent suggested this space.”

You slowly walk into the house, the fear subsiding with each step.

“The owner lives in Sydney, so I was free to come over and check it out whenever I wanted to. Though the agent did ask him to let him know when I do….” He grins. “Guess I just forgot. “

“I can’t believe you Yoongi.” You shake your head in disbelief, fighting back a smile. “So technically, we are breaking in?”

“Not technically-”

“Yoongi, you just brought me to some random persons house to have sex.”

“Should I be scared that you don’t sound disappointed saying that?”

“Hmm, I like it.” You smile slowly, walking up to him, a glint of mischief in your eyes “I’m so tired of us always having to do it in my bedroom, keeping it down, trying not to get caught. That had its own thrill but here,” Pressing your body against his you tiptoe, weaving your fingers into the back of his head, whispering in his ear. “Here you can make me scream.”

Yoongi lets out a short laugh, his hands finding the curves of your hips, walking you back till you feel the edge of the breakfast bar behind, and kissing you in a way that dragged out those desperate moans. When he pulls back letting you breath and whispering, “Trust me, I’m dying to.”, you look at him chest heaving, biting your lip that was already missing his mouth. His eyes are darken with a mix of desire and something you couldn’t quite tell as he began littering kisses along your collarbone and you attempt to pull your hair into a ponytail, the way he likes it, thank god for the hair tie on your wrist. His hands grip your thighs as he stands between them and his mouth feels so good but you want so much more.

“Are you just going to kiss me all night?” Your voice shakes as he makes a trail up your neck.“I can think of better places you can put your mouth.”

“Such impatience.” He chuckles, sliding the straps of your dress off your shoulders and down your arms, his long fingers brushing them excruciatingly slowly. Of course, Min Yoongi’s recipe for mind blowing sex - foreplay, teasing, edging. But you were not in the mood for any of that today.

“You ditched me for 3 weeks,” You work faster than him, almost swatting his hands aside and pulling the dress down to bunch up at your waist, “I think I’ve been patient enough.” You unhook the clasp of your bra, and slide it off, discarding it somewhere on the floor, unbothered. Yoongi’s expression darkens as your fingers find the zip of his jeans, and unzip it without hesitation.

“Come on Yoongi, how much more do you want me to ask?”

He smirks but complies nevertheless, dragging his hands under your dress and up your thigh, pushing the material of your panties aside, running his finger between your folds.

“You’re so wet, fuck.” There is something about the way his voice goes so low and deep when he’s aroused that makes you clench your walls harder. “I could slip in there so easily, fill you up so good. Would you like that?”

Fuck yes Min Yoongi. That’s what you want to say. But you can’t. Not when he doesn’t even wait before he slides two fingers inside you, and all you can do is let out a soft moan, your body instantly reacting to the familiar feeling of his long digits thrusted inside you. But before you can fully savor that sensation, he pulls them out completely, much to your disappointment.

“Lift your hips for me.”

And you obey pulling away from the edge of the counter letting him tug that tight dress down your legs, throwing it somewhere. He pulls out the bar stool from behind you, guiding you to sit on it.

“Turn.”

You frown, not understanding as he swiftly spins the apparently rotatable stool half a round, pressing himself against your back. As you open your mouth to complain about not being about to see him, his hand slides from behind, over your waist, down there and this time, when he plunges his fingers into your heat again, “Oh fuck yes.” the feeling is wild.

His hand finds your breast as you feel yourself arch off against him, whimpers spilling from you mouth. He doesn’t let you grind against his hand, and picks up the pace instead knowing that’s what you want, as he thrusted his fingers in and out of you, months of experience telling him just how deep you liked it and just how fast. His hand switches between your breasts, mouth hot on your neck as you tip your head back, quickening the pleasure building up inside, your breaths getting louder, shorter. It’s been so long since you’ve even been touched, with him pumping his digits into you like that, it doesn’t take long for you to edge.

“Fuck, I’m going to come, Yoongi, stop.” You weakly attempt to hold his wrist but of course you are not successful, not when you feel him run his tongue up your neck. “Fuck, I want you inside me when I come, please, just stop-”

“Cute.” He lightly sinks his teeth into the soft skin of your shoulder, whispering against it. “What makes you think you’re only going to come once tonight?”

You bite back a moan, stuttering “Fuck, yes, yes, yes, right there”, incoherently and it takes just the slight pressure of his thumb on your clit and you fall apart instantly, breathing heavily.

When he feels you finish riding your high and relax around his fingers, he slowly pulls them out, and you turn to face him, finally gaining the ability to address his cockiness. “Make me come more than once today? Don’t you have a lot of confidence Min Yoongi?”

“I think I’m allowed to have it.” He sucks on his fingers, smirking proudly around them. “Delicious.”

Fuck.

The effect he had on you. Every time. Every time he managed to make such a panting mess of you all while remaining so calm, so composed and today, fully clothed moreover, with just his zip down. You look at the bulge in his pants, and you can tell he is not at his most comfortable, yet he waited for you to make the move.

You grab the edge of his shirt and pull it up, over his head, dropping it the moment he’s free of it, and run your hands against the pale skin of his torso as he watches you patiently. Oh but today you had the upper hand. You were satisfied by his fingers already while here he was, an erection still in his boxers. If you wanted you could give him a taste of his lesson, tease the life out of him, but there was something you were holding onto all these days, something you wanted to tell him for quite a few weeks now.

“Do you have a condom?”

He nods, reaching for his back pocket to take out his tattered wallet as you palm him over the material of his boxers before sliding your hand in to and griping his erection, drawing a very soft but audible groan from his throat.

“You’re going to have to take my cock out if you want to use this sweetheart,” He holds the foil pointedly.

“Or not.” You mutter unsure as you take the foil from him and put it on the surface next to you. “We don’t really have to use it you know.”

What did that expression mean?

When Yoongi doesn’t reply to that, you don’t know what to do but continue.

“I’ve uh,” Why you are so hesitant? “I’ve started taking the pill.” You bite your lower lip, muttering. “So if you are okay with it…..we can do this without protection.”

It’s a while before Yoongi stops just blinking at you and replies. “You’re saying,” He looks away momentarily, letting out a struggled breath. “You’re saying it’s ok if I fuck you raw-”

“I’m saying I want you to.” You look him straight in the eye, dead serious. “Fuck me raw.” Then quickly add, “If you want to, that is.”

Yoongi actually takes a few steps back instead. “The first time we slept together, you said without a condom, it felt too intimate.”

“Oh,” You scoff. “That was my nice way of saying ‘god knows what nasties you are carrying’.”

You roll your eyes when he looks at you confused. “STDs Yoongi.”

“I was clean then, clean now. You knew that.”

“Only because you said so.” You point out. “But I have medical proof now because I might have looked up your test results on our hospital records…?” You trail off, voice softening a bit in embarrassment. You weren’t prepared to answer all these details, it was a simple yes or no question.

“Really?”

“Yeah well,” You shrug. “I’m a resident, I have access to all kinds of records-”

“No, about this.” He straightens out, standing upright. “You really want to? You-you’re serious about….this.”

“Oh.” You nod. “Yeah, I mean, I am clean but I don’t have any evidence right now-”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

You swallow on nothing, surprised by his trust in you.

“Uh and unless you’ve slept with someone the last few weeks-”

He scoffs, “You think?”

With just two strides, he’s right before you once more, kissing you with a ferocity that was new to you but you kissed him back just as intensely, biting, running your tongue over his lips, over where they meet, just inside of them, tracing their outline with the tip of your tongue. You slide your hand into his boxer, gripping his erection, attempting to free it, and he helps you, pulling both his boxers and his pants halfway down his thighs.

“Take them off.” You whisper and he obeys taking a step back and swiftly pulling off the last of his clothes as you push aside your drenched panties and stick your fingers inside you, feeling all that wetness, gathering it. Yoongi’s eyes follow your digits as you pull them out, your arousal slick between your fingers and he looks up to your mouth, as though he expected you to slip them in there. Instead, you gesture him to come closer with them and when he does you wrap your hand around his erection, the wetness of your fingers letting you stroke it with a little ease as you feel his breath get heavier.

“Can’t wait to put this in my mouth.” You coo into his ear, attempting to slide off the stool but he pins you by your thighs, not letting you move.

“Not tonight.” Yoongi refusing a blow job? He groans as you run your thumb over his tip. “I want to fuck you right now-”

“Then fuck me.”

Holding you in place with his hands under your knees, he wastes no time - no teasing your slit with his tip, not even pushing himself in you slowly to allow you to adjust his thickness, not even bothering to fully remove your panties, he just pushes them aside and he thrusts himself in with one swift move and fuck, the feeling of his bare cock in you is so foreign but unbelievably gratifying. You can feel it inside you, down to the last detail, your walls clenching, aching for some movement. But Yoongi just wraps your legs around his waist and buries his face in the crook of your neck, hands digging into your thighs, surely bruising them.

“Yoongi, move.” You moan into his ear, entwining your arms around his neck. “Please.”

And he does, picking up the pace, giving it to you so hard, your nails find themselves raking his back. He kisses you along your shoulder, not letting you hear the soft grunts he couldn’t help but let out. You though, wince every time he thrusts into you, body sore from your fixed position.

“It hurts.” When he doesn’t stop, you slide your fingers into his hair, and tug his head back, letting him see you and realize you were hurting. You sense how it takes every bit of his energy to halt and mutter. “I’ve been sitting for far too long.”

“Bedroom?” He asks, almost short of breath. When you shake your head he swiftly pulls you down from the bar stool, giving you immediate relief.

“Are you okay?” You nod but he doesn’t seem convinced. “We can find a bedroom-”

He goes speechless the moment you turn around, gripping the edges of the counter and slightly bend over. You just wanted a change in position, you weren’t really thinking about the effect it might have on him.

Not when all I could think of was having you bent over that counter with your panties around your ankles.

“Is this what you imagined?” You try to peer over your shoulder. “In the bar earlier today?”

He’s still silent. You can’t really see him well but you know he’s watching as you touch yourself, eager for him to shove himself back in there.

“No.” He murmurs.

You feel his hands on the elastic of your underwear, pulling it down to where he said he pictured it, before he makes his way back up, kissing and biting softly along the inside of your thigh, dropping one last kiss on the skin of your lower waist before he confesses in your ear in a low voice,

“This is so much better, you have no idea.”

Your proud smile falters the moment he digs his fingers into your hips definitely making bruises, and rams himself inside you, making your head dip down in pleasure as you bite back a moan.

“Don’t hold back.” He speedens his movements in and out, the new angle letting him snap his hips against yours faster and deeper. “I want to hear you.”

So you let him. Parting your lips you let him hear what he does to you, moaning his name and it drives him crazy because you feel him getting more aggressive, not hesitating at all. His hand wanders up, pressing into your skin wherever it could, grabbing your breast almost painfully before reaching your wrist, tapping it.

“Let go.” He growls, and the moment you obey he harshly pushes you forward, right up against the counter, till every bit of the skin of your upper body is against the cold surface, giving him the ability to pound into you harder almost as though he had no intentions of holding back.

“Shit,” You try to raise yourself but he leans over and pins you with his hand on the nape of your neck, restricting you against the surface, your cheek still against the coldness. “Fuck,” You moan shamelessly. “I forgot how good you fucked me Yoongi.”

No cocky response to that? It’s like he doesn’t care anymore, nothing but an occasional grunt or two leaving him unwittingly, his breath the most audible thing from him. You wish you could see him fucking you like this. Sex with Yoongi never was gentle love making but it also wasn’t this sort of rough fucking. You hated to admit how much you liked it. Even more so when he takes both your hands and holds them firmly against your lower back with his single hand, and starts to lose his rhythm, thrusts getting sloppy.

“Fuck, I’m going to come.” You feel his lips on your shoulder, trying not to sink his teeth into your skin. “Where do you want me to?”

Like you could respond to that with your mouth so dry and you were approaching your high too.

“Fucking hell Y/n, you need to tell me, shit I’m so close-”

“Inside, inside.” You whimper, breathlessly. “Come inside me Yoongi.”

And before you even finish your sentence he groans, shooting his load with a few thrusts, the warmth filling you up as you clench around him, desperate to hold on to the sensation of him inside you to tip over the edge once more.

“Stop. I’m going to get hard again if you do that.”

You sense him move back, slowly sliding out of you as you feel his cum leaking down, threatening to dribble down your thighs. Turning around you look at him, eyes savoring the sight of completely fucked out Yoongi before you as you get down on your knees slowly, taking his cum covered cock in your mouth, sucking him clean, that alluring taste of him making you want more and more. Yoongi lifts your chin with a finger under it, pulling you back as he looks down at you.

“If I get hard again, I can’t promise I won’t break you. So don’t try, Y/n.”

Fuck.

Normally you wouldn’t have laughed at that, but being deprived of your orgasm makes you gutsy.

You chuckle, standing up, licking your lips. “Speaking of promises, someone said I’ll be coming more than once tonight.”

His eyebrows furrow as the realization hits him and honestly, it surprised you just as much as it surprised him. Min Yoongi just fucked you with the most minimal foreplay, absolutely no teasing, and the man who had always made it his mission to make you orgasm first was standing here with his cum all up inside you before you had the chance to. It clearly hurts his ego because you can see the determination in his eyes to change things.

Pushing you back onto the stool, he gets on his knees instead and you gasp, seeing his head between your legs like that. Yoongi, who is so repelled by the idea of tasting himself that he wouldn’t even kiss you after you blow him was here, latching his mouth around your cum filled cunt, delving his tongue inside you. You are already so sensitive from his cock inside you earlier and it doesn’t help that he looks so hot buried between your legs like that, meeting your eyes, you can feel that tightening sensation rise in you again. Desperate, you catch yourself almost grinding against his tongue till he finds the need to stop you, taking one of your legs over his shoulder making you reach for support from the counter behind.

“Fuck y-yes.” You whimper, his mouth sucking on your cunt so hard and he brings his hand up to your clit, rubbing on it hard and fast and it takes less than a minute for you reach your orgasm, vision fading to black as you rake your fingers through his hair softly. He runs his tongue along the folds on last time and your look down at as he drops a kiss on the inside of your thigh.

As he stands up you slowly adjust yourself, rolling your neck to relieve yourself, pulling the hair tie, freeing your hair. Yeah furniture sex is great, but your body was surely going to hurt like a bitch in a few hours.

Yoongi holds you gently by the elbow, planting a brief kiss on your lips. “Are you okay?”

“You should ask me this question tomorrow because that is when I’ll know.” You laugh.

“I will.” He nods, picking your clothes from the floor handing it to you. You take it, trying to avoid his concerned gaze.

“Uh, I should go pee.” You hold your clothes against your chest, suddenly embarrassed about how much you were exposing to him.

“The washroom is probably down the hall.”

He moves to the side giving you way and you leave with a small thankful smile, hurrying with small steps, eyes searching around the house. When you push the bathroom door upon finding it, you are greeted by a full size mirror making you jump reflexively. “Ah fuck….”

You’re a mess.

You knew you were probably looking like one, but you didn’t know to what extent. You bite your lip looking at the purple marks stark against your shoulders and the inside of your thigh. Yoongi doesn’t usually mark you. Simply because you didn’t allow him to, at least not the neck. You told him that was off limits because you worked at a hospital and you obviously couldn’t go to work looking like that, it wasn’t appropriate. You did say though, that you didn’t mind anywhere else but he never seemed interested in that proposition because he never even tried to. But today looking at those marks, the pride in your chest does a happy backflip. Yoongi really lost control today.

When you clean yourself up and come out, you don’t know why you are surprised to see him still there. Maybe because every time after the both of you slept together, either he had to rush or you had to, there was never an opportunity to so much as even look at each other, forget saying something.

But here he was, with just his pants back on, shirt still lying discarded on the floor as he makes himself busy cleaning the surface of the table with a wet tissue, much like how he was clearing his station a few hours ago.

You sink into the couch nearby and watch him take his time, running here and there, scrubbing the surface clean, once with a wet tissue, then with a dry tissue, scrounging around febreze, spraying it around the place, sniffing it carefully in the air. You smile at his antics, shaking your head.

“Alright, clean here.” He grabs his shirt from the floor and pulls it over his head. “Oh yeah, sanitizer.” Your habits really did grow onto him. You did not know why and what kind of role you played in Yoongi’s life but the last 3 weeks taught you something. For some reason, you don’t know what exactly but Yoongi was important to you.

As he approaches the couch, hand reaching out for his backpack next to you, you hold him by the wrist, stopping him.

“Don’t do that to me again.” You stare at how beautiful his hand looks in yours, like its meant to be. “The last three weeks were……difficult.”

“You think 21 days of not fucking you were easy for me?” He scoffs. “The regular 5 days itself are ridiculously hard.”

“Difficult because I was worried, not because I was horny.” You laugh as Yoongi sinks into the couch next to you, rolling his head over, giving you his gummy smile.

This was the reason.

That’s when you finally, finally realize.

You realize that you laughed after almost 3 weeks now. After days of being upset and angry and irritable, just one night with Min Yoongi and you were normal again.

You were laughing ever since things cleared between the both of you.

You were laughing ever since you realized he was okay.

You were laughing because he was laughing.

You were laughing because of Min Yoongi.

Oh.

Oh no.

“I’m sorry though, I really am.” He looks away because he’s ashamed and you are relieved he can’t see the conflict you are going through. “I thought I’ll figure it all out and then talk to you about it but….I should have said something.”

You gulp air in the silence, not paying attention to his sincere apology, your realization evoking hundreds of thoughts in you head, the most important one being-

“What happens to us now?” You whisper.

“What do you mean?”

“My brother doesn’t need tutoring anymore, we can’t exactly…” This was the part of the night you were dreading, the part that decides it all. “How will we keep this going?”

“We’ll figure it out.” Yoongi nods slowly. His words, calm down your racing heart. “If you don’t want it to end then…..”

“Of course I don’t.” You answer certainly.

“Then we’ll find a way, I’m sure we can.” He then slowly smiles smugly, as though he realized something. “Maybe I can get my agent to find us a new house like this every week.”

You raise your eyebrow, letting out a laugh once again but slowly nod your head. “So we are going to continue breaking into houses like this?”

“It could be our thing.” He grins.

Our.

“Or would you rather the hospital instead? Like you suggested?”

It takes you a moment but when you remember it, you laugh. “Oh god, you heard that.”

“Mhmm.” Yoongi nods, “It made me think about doing it in my workplace.”

Not when all I could think of was having you bent over that counter with your panties around your ankles.

“Someday, when I have a place of my own, maybe after closing hours.” He smirks and you immediately find yourself picturing it already.

“Speaking of the bar,” You remember that man as you turn toward Yoongi, sitting sideways. “There was a bartender there who knew my name.”

“Who knew your name?” Yoongi frowns before realizing, “Hoseok?”

“I think that’s what his name tag read?”

“Probably him, I can’t think of anyone else who knows.”

“You told him about us?” Your eyes widen.

“What? No,” He adds slowly. “He saw your name flashing on my phone screen a couple of times.”

“Oh.” The panic ebbs a little. “Oh so you saved my contact as Y/n?”

“Yeah.” He nods like it was obvious before squinting at you. “Why? What did you save mine as?”

The Agreement.

“MYG” You lie confidently.

Why did you lie? Because you thought is might hurt his feelings? Why did that matter? You know why.

“Though…..” He speaks, still thinking. “Would that be such a bad idea? Telling people about us?”

You nervously laugh. "W-Why did you think of that all of a sudden?”

Why Yoongi?

“You were quite terrified when you thought I told Hoseok about us.”

“No I mean…..” You swallow not knowing what to say. “You said so yourself, we don’t mean enough to each other to share so much.”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“What will we even tell people? What are we Yoongi?” You smile sadly. “We are just an agreement. Something that started with two rules and that will end with one sentence.”

Say I’m wrong Yoongi. Say we could be more.

“You’re right, We are just an agreement. ” He nods. “What would we even tell people?”

You : That I am falling for this man. Yoongi : That I’ve long fallen for this woman.

But both things were left unsaid, only a strange silence in the space between you two, sad smiles exchanged in the place of those feelings.

#yoongi smut #btswriterscollective #btsbookclub #btsguild #yoongi angst #bts smut #bts angst #unfamiliar #jiminwreckedme

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hournites · 4 years

Text

Say that we’ll stay with each other

An aged-up Jealous!Rick hournite fic for @samarasketch

~.~

They grab coffee at the diner to catch up every week. It’s not the only time they see each other, but missions require zero personal life talk for safety, as learned very quickly into their JSA run, and their texts just aren’t sufficient enough for the way they miss each other’s company.

Beth rearranges the cutlery, waiting for Rick as he picks out two desserts from beneath the glass window by the cash. It’s late and quiet, Rick had to work overtime to finish a deadline, so she took a nap at her office until he swung by with his car to pick her up.

The steaming coffee is in front of her, untouched. It’s been a long day and she’s second guessing whether or not caffeine is actually such a good idea after all.

“Wow,” Rick greets her, sliding into the booth across from her. He’s no longer slicking his hair back with gel and the small change makes a massive difference in how he looks. His hair is thick, falling over the front of his face, long enough to frame his eyes. Those eyes are lit up now, bright hazel. They sweep over her, taking everything in like he needs the moment to process.

The silent gesture pushes Beth to look down at herself, wondering if she spilled something or was showcasing a wardrobe malfunction of some kind.

“You look amazing. I noticed before but your jacket was on.”

Beth relaxes, settling against the leather backing of her seat. He grins at her, which she returns easily. Rick is her best friend—has been for a very long time. Her lips curve around the rim of her ceramic mug. “Oh, thank you! I was on my date earlier over lunch. I didn’t want to show up in my lab coat.”

“Right,” he replies. “Dr. Leho, was it?” ” Rick twirls his fork into the perfectly cut marble cake slice on the pretty small plate. “How’d that go?”

Beth suppresses the urge to roll her eyes. “Dr. Leon.”

“Oh, was that it?” As if he hadn’t deliberately botched the name of her date in the first place. Rick has met Denny before. Beth’s mom had invited him to her surprise birthday dinner that she organized with Courtney a few weeks ago. He was nice, bought her a book of easy recipes that he swore got him well fed through night shifts that he thought she’d enjoy. The gesture was thoughtful and was what made her agree to giving him her number. Rick was there for it all, one eyebrow arched high in what she was able to tell was silent judgement as he kept sharing a look with Yolanda.

“—And it went fine.”

He raises that brow again now. “Just fine?”

Beth shrugs. She already knows how Rick feels about why she’s giving him a chance. He’s not exactly her first choice when it comes to dating—Rather, he wasn’t much of a choice at all, pestered into giving the youngest single doctor working at her mom’s floor the time of day.

Her parents are getting concerned she’s throwing herself too deep into work without any support. It’s not precisely fair—Juggling a new position at Central City emergency with spontaneous secret crime-fighting against metahuman villainous egomaniacs does not give a woman much time to find someone new to love. Long shifts end in face-planting into bed until the next one and there’s nothing more she’d rather do than shove off her work shoes to do that. Only a handful of people have enough grip on Beth’s heart for her to sacrifice her evenings—Courtney and her family, Yolanda, Jade, Wally, her parents. And while she enjoys the pretty dress and matching pair of high heels for dinner, her energy to sustain a relationship would require an extension of self that she’s not sure she has to offer.

She’s tried to explain this, cutting out the important JSA parts, which she self-admits would strengthen her argument.

“It was a nice lunch.” She’s already preferring dessert with Rick, though.

“Tell me about it.”

“There’s not much to tell.”

“What, he was that boring?”

Beth sighs. She finds herself describing her entire lunch break, from waiting for Denny to scrub his hands from surgical fluids to grabbing her hand to chatter about his day without a moment of pause for her to get something into the conversation until their food had arrived. It’s because he was excited to be on the date with her. Beth’s mom was talking her up to him, no doubt, clearly that was the case by any indication of how her mother kept talking about Denny to her over the phone too. So Denny was likely nervous, he kept letting out a barking type laugh after something he thought Beth should find funny. Beth couldn’t exactly be annoyed for his rambling to no end, she was the queen of that when she was younger. Her mom probably thought it was nice they had that in common. Except, it’s not. Beth’s excited verbal amusement park went away with age. Beth learned to keep her mouth shut when she needed to, she’s hoarded too many secrets.

“There’s one thing though that bothered me a bit,” she admits finally, tapping her cut nails against the table. “He asked me what...pleased me... the most.”

Rick frowns at her. “Huh?”

She flushes, eyes flitting away as she mumbles, “In bed. What I find pleasurable in bed.”

Rick bristles, his mouth dropping open. “Did you tell him?”

“After what he told me first? I kind of had to. There was a family sitting within earshot of us, it was barely noon so I sort of said something vague, I don’t exactly remember, I think my brain is trying to block it out. It was embarrassing.”

“God, that’s tacky.”

She knew Rick would say that. “I think he was trying to assess our compatibility?”

“You make him sound like some socially inept robot.”

Beth lowers her mug, biting her tongue on calling herself a socially inept robot. She reaches over the table for the pot the waitress left for them after Rick’s second refill, instead. He lifts it for her when notices, pouring her a fresh cup and slides over the basket of sugar packets and creamers.

“Thanks,” she says, then returns to their conversation. “I think he was trying to be suave.”

“You hate that word! You’ve said so yourself!”

Had she? Beth wrinkles her nose. It’s crazy how much of their lives they’ve shared together. “In high school, maybe.”

“I vividly remember you telling me that talking about sexual preferences with acquaintances freaks you out.” That’s true. Whenever a horror story kinky sex accident patient shows up in Beth’s emergency room describing their incident in full detail, it takes all of her professionalism not to drop her clipboard and run out from second hand embarrassment.

She shifts in her seat and explains, “He was my date, Rick.”

“So that’s what, half an hour of getting to know him? You’d think someone that went to med school would have the patience to keep it in their pants.”

“Rick!” She gapes at his bluntness because he’s just flinging it out there, dragging Dr. Leon’s entire personality with barely any effort at all, what’s worse is that he’s being unintentionally funny and now she’s trying not to laugh.

“What? This man is clearly not for you. He’s not your type.”

She raises an eyebrow, crossing her arms. “Then what is?”

Rick looks down at his plate, quieting. He hasn’t really eaten yet, just danced his fork all over that cake. She’s half tempted to ask him for it if Rick’s not hungry. She finished her lemon square in four bites.

“Well...”

“Well?”

"Well... He’s not my type... for you. He’s not good enough for you. He sounds like a secret sleaze."

Beth stops trying to defend Denny after Rick says that. She’s not sure if he’s so adamant because he can tell the way she’s not really interested in him, but feels the need to make her mom happy and is trying to give her an out, or if he honestly thinks Denny is not a good person. She’s been a superhero for ten years now, Beth is pretty sure how to gauge a person’s character. There’s nothing wrong with Denny Leon the way Rick is painting him. It’s hard because she knows there’s no real spark, but she’s willing to try. Chemistry doesn’t develop like that over one day.

Beth thinks about her mom again. She just wants Beth to have a fulfilling life. And she had found Beth’s father while also steadily making a career as a respected research clinician. What’s Beth’s excuse then, to say finding someone isn’t possible?

“I don’t have a type, I’ve barely dated at all. The man I’ve spent most of my time with is you.”

Rick takes a while to respond, but his eyes are on hers like he’s waiting for an afterthought to accompany her last sentence. It’s sincere and gentle, and for the second time since they’ve met here today, she finds her heartbeat picking up because of the way she’s being seen.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

“It’s just—“

“What?”

He takes another moment before answering. “Why are you forcing something with someone you have no desire to connect to? Are you not...Happy?”

His question takes her by surprise. She stammers, feeling more heat rise to her face. “Why are you asking me this?”

Rick drags a hand over his face and leaves it there for a moment, like he’s just trying to breathe. Eventually, he sweeps his hair back up over his head, and he strikes a nostalgic resemblance to the angry boy Beth latched onto in tenth grade whose soul she watched soften over years of time. Her heart pangs at the memory of the way things were. When they spent all week side by side, and didn’t have to schedule coffee dates that inch towards midnight around saving each other in costumes with relics because of their hectic lives.

“I care about you,” he finally says. “I just don’t want to see you exhaust yourself over someone that’s not worth your time. You should be with someone who makes you feel how I feel whenever I’m with you.”

She smiles at that. “I love you too, Rick.”

His own smile falters, something dims in his expression, she’d almost call it wistful, but that’s not exactly a feeling Rick has in his emotional repertoire. He lowers his gaze to his plate again.

“Hey.” Beth places her hand over his. “Are you okay?”

In high school, Rick was on track to becoming a mechanic like Pat until the man turned him around by the shoulders and walked him through scholarship applications for college. To the surprise of practically everyone in Blue Valley except his inner circle of friends, he graduated with honours in both chemistry and physics, and is now an independent research scientist for a big pharma company. He says he likes his lab, but the regulations of being under a company contract means there’s only so much experimentation he can get by with on his own. Beth has been encouraging his recent talks of starting up his own research lab for JSA, but he seems stressed thinking of taking that beyond the realms of idealism.

His hand freezes beneath her palm. He glances up at her again without words, like he’s struggling with what to say. The creases between Beth’s brows deepen further with concern. “Rick?”

“I’m fine,” he lies. The smile is so fake it hurts that he thinks she could be fooled by it.

“Come on, it’s just us. Something’s bothering you. Is it work? Did your uncle contact you for money again?”

“No, I’m fine. I promise.”

“Rick—“

“You don’t have a type. You just have a person. I know that because you’ve been my person since I was seventeen. You don’t need your mother’s fancy surgeon prodigy to sweep you off your feet, Beth. You have me.”

“I—”

Her pulse rushes in her ears. She’s honestly speechless. Beth just sits there. Rick searches her face for some type of recognition she can’t give back because she’s just confused. She’s blinking back unexpected tears, the hand she has over his shaking, because there has to be something more to this, the gravity behind everything, but her mind keeps hitting against a blank wall. She understands what Rick is saying but not what he means.

He sees her distress and slips out of his booth, sliding into her side. “Hey,” he says, wrapping an arm around her as she presses her wet face into his shoulder. “I didn’t mean to upset you. It’s okay.”

Her stomach drops at the horrible way his voice sounds scratchy, thick with regret. That’s when it clicks, and the tears fall for real.

Rick is in love with her.

She’s not crying because she’s upset. Blindly, she reaches up for his face to see him, those fond hazel eyes blinking back. They used to be so hardened and guarded, but it’s just openness now, with her. It’s late, the diner is almost empty, nothing but dim lights and the only waitress busy cleaning up behind the counter. It’s just them, in their special spot. And it’s just them, their solid partnership, that Beth needs in her life to carve out time and effort and feelings for. He’s been trying to articulate this over and over since the evening began. Hugging her tightly, lets out a long breath. The solace he finds in her, alone. The relief and love. How she feels it in equal measures, how it’s always been there.

“I didn’t know.”

“I never really told you.”

But he has, really. He’s shown her since they were kids.

She touches his face, guiding him down so he could kiss her the way she suddenly desperately wants.

He does, kissing Beth deeply until her head goes dizzy and the light feeling is not something she ever wants to let go of. There is no extension of self when Beth is with Rick. No room to make. He already is in her future, can have all of her time.

#stargirl #hournite #rick tyler #beth chapel #fluff #jealous!rick #hournites fic #dctv

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bngtanah · 4 years

Text

Red Lips: Love Galore | JK (m)

summary: “Red Lips Always Lie.” Jungkook was the type of guy your parents always warned you about. Handsome, charming and not to be trusted.

pairing: Jungkook x Named!Reader genre: angst, smut words: 4.5k chapters: o1| o2| warning: fuccboi!jungkook, smut, black!reader, dirty talk, honestly its just pure filthy, over-stimulation, public sex, bathroom sex, barely a plot, like honestly just a thread of plot, angst, a/n: i am a fool. I accidentally deleted my blog so this is me re-uploading EVERYTHING.

Month Two: Love Galore Should've never gave you my number I did it with you Should've never let you hit it I split it with you I regret it

Despite the reassurance of her friends, Baby was not, in fact, loving the bar they had settled on occupying for the night. The live band was annoying her, the hordes of seemingly hipster fans they drew in for the night were less that amiable and apparently all of them were freakishly tall; judging by the amount of times she’d been elbowed in the back of her head without even a small apology. A complaint was ever present on the tip of her tongue from the moment they entered the building but she held back for the sole fact that her closest friend, the birthday girl, seemed to be enjoying herself.

That could just be due to the fact that June was a more content person than Baby. She was laid back, easygoing and even if she wasn’t having the best time, there was no way you’d be able to tell just by looking at her face, especially not now while she laughed loudly, all 32 of her pearly white teeth gleaming, at something someone’s date had said along with the rest of the group.

Baby sniffed, adjusting her top and bringing a bottle of beer to her mouth. She hadn’t really been paying attention to anything anyone was saying, her attention focused solely on watching her watch and counting the hours that had passed since Jungkook said he was on his way. For that past month and a half they had been seeing each other pretty regularly. ‘Seeing’ meaning that they spent the better part of every weekend locked up in her apartment or Jungkook’s taking turns making each other orgasm until exhaustion overtook them.

They’d watch movies, talk (mostly about Baby) and sometimes order takeout but the night always ended the same basic way; with Baby face down in a mattress, struggling to keep her back arched as Jungkook took her from behind with no mercy. Then once they were both satisfied he would leave, or she would go home and wait for the routine to begin again the following weekend. It was uncomplicated and exactly what Baby thought she needed. Though honestly, the lack of depth was beginning to eat away at her. As hard as Baby's wished she could be she knew she was a softy at heart who craved attention and concern, so having Jungkook actually show up with her tonight was kind of a big deal.

Her friends still hadn’t met him, despite the amount of time she spent talking about him. Whenever she invited him out with her, there was always something else that came up. He had to work late, or deal with a family emergency or sudden illness that rendered him incapable of leaving his apartment. The excuses upset Baby at the moment but he always seemed to find a way to remedy her anger by showing up at her apartment later in the night. All pressing excuses suddenly resolved for the remainder of the time it took for him to get himself off then, almost magically, the excuses popped up again whenever Baby made the rookie decision of asking if he was staying for the night or attempting to cuddle against him once they were both sated and out of breath.

Baby flinched and immediately reached for her cellphone when Jungkook’s text message came in, fighting to urge to roll her eyes at him asking her to meet him outside without actually SAYING ‘come outside’. She stood to her feet anyway and tried to hide the excitement in her voice when she announced to the table of her peers that she would “Be right back.”

“So when are we going to tell her to stop messing with this dude? Before or after she’s so dickmatized she lets him move in?” June, the birthday girl perked up once Baby was out of earshot.

“If we’re trying to prevent her being dickmatized, I think it’s too late,” Demi chimed in from across the table “We all know the signs and Baby is beyond help.”

“They've been together for, what? A month? No dick is that good” Lisa grumbled into drink.

“You'd be surprised” June countered, looking forlornly at the entrance of the bar “.... You'd be surprised… “

In Front.

“Jungkook!” Baby waved as she jogged a few feet down the block “I didn't think you'd make it-”

She never quite got to finish her sentence, the second Baby was within arms reach Jungkook's hands were all over. His burly arms snaked around her waist and pulled her flush against his body. Before she had a chance to question his actions, soft red lips were on hers in the few seconds it took Baby to raise her head. Passionate and unyielding, his kiss engulfed Baby, giving her no choice but to relent and match his efforts. Her arms wrapped around his torso and held him close to her in a vice grip, she could feel him smile against her lips then smooth both his hands down her back until they were both gripping her ass and kneading the plump flesh there as if she were nothing more than a piece of clay.

In a sense she mostly was, each time he put his hands to work on her body Baby became like putty in his grasp. She felt his lips pull back from her own and almost found herself frowning at their absence until she felt him dip down and suction her neck in the exact spot that made her toes curl. Her fingernails pushed into his back and Baby's eyes flew open wide when she felt his right hand move from her ass to grabbing her upper thigh and then vanishing under the hem of her skirt to stroke her from behind.

Immediately Baby put her hands against his chest and pushed him backwards. Or, she attempted to. He was six feet of solid muscle compared to Baby's shorter, much less toned frame so all her push managed to do was make him stop attempting to push her thighs apart further.

"Um...so Hi?" Baby croaked out once she'd managed to move his hands.

"Hey Baby…I missed you" Jungkook replied and moved forward to kiss her again. Baby stopped him this time, pressing her finger against his lips and guided his head backwards.

"So, Maybe you're confused, but I didn't ask to come out with me so you could finger me outside the club!" Baby complained a hushed whisper and attempted to move away but Jungkook's grip on her remained steady.

"C'mon, no one is even paying attention to us" He whispered back and placed another kiss along her jaw. Baby looked to her left and then right and groaned softly when she noticed that he wasn't wrong. There was hardly anyone on the sidewalk and the doorman who kept guard over the entrance seemed to have conveniently disappeared.

"That's not the point," Baby retorted taking a step back when Jungkook's hold on her waist went slack "I want you to meet my friends, I wanted to have some fun with you outside of a bedroom for once."

Jungkook snickered and shrugged, allowing Baby to loop her arm around his bicep and pull him forward. It seemed like you were having fun already," he grinned and quirked an eyebrow upwards as he brought a glistening finger up to his mouth, humming with delight when he sealed his lips around the digit.

"You're digust- !" Baby exclaimed as she attempted to drag him forward, ignoring the jolt of electricity strike down her spine when he only laughed and smacked his palm harshly against her ass when she moved in front of him.

Baby could hardly contain the pleased grin that spread across her face as she led Jungkook back inside the building. She caught the attention of her friends when they were a few feet from their table, their eyes drifted from Baby to her arm linked with Jungkook then upwards to Jungkook then back down to Baby again.

"So Guys..." Baby practically gushed when they were seated again "This is Jungkook! Jungkook This Is Lisa, Demi, And June - She’s the birthday girl." Baby announced and pointed towards them respectively as she said each of their names. Her excitement was palpable and not nearly as reciprocated on either end. Jungkook was the first to offer a short "’Sup, Happy Birthday" His lips curling up into a playful smile that made Baby's friends grimace slightly. It was a smile they had all seen at one point in their lives and recognized all too well.

June finally broke the silence and extended her hand forward, encouraging the other two to follow her example. “Thanks. Its nice to finally meet the famous Jungkook, am I saying that right? Juunngkook?” June was slightly tipsy but not drunk enough to cause her words to slur and Baby cringed inside knowing that she was probably stressing his name purposefully. Though Jungkook seemed to take it in stride, chuckling softly at the unnecessary syllables added to his name.

“Yeah that’s close enough, Juuune” he replied with a sly smirk before smacking his palms against the surface of the table and tapping rhythmically. “Since it’s your birthday, how about a round of shots on me?” He didn’t wait for an answer before pushing back from his seat and made eye contact with Baby, jerking his head in the direction of the bar.

“I’m, uh gonna help him with the glasses” Baby said with a soft smile as she trailed behind him and eventually caught up. Once she reached the Jungkook was already seated with two large shot glasses in his hands.

“Baby! Do a shot with me,”

"This looks like more than just one" Baby noted with a grin but took the glass anyway.

"It's a double, I thought you wanted to have fun tonight?" Jungkook asked with a toothy grin before clinking their glasses together and counting backwards from 3. Baby immediately threw her head back on the count of one and puckered her entire face as the alcohol burned down her throat. It took a few seconds for her to open her eyes again and notice that Jungkook's glass was still completely full.

"Jungkook, what the hell!" She complained and playfully tapped his shoulder. "Why buy a shot if you're not going to drink it?"

"I'm going to…" He replied with an indecipherable smile "But I wanna do something first, move your hair outta the way."

"Baby raised an eyebrow at first but eventually did what she was asked, grabbing a large clump of her hair and moving it to the opposite side of her neck. It wasn't until she noticed him coaxing a wedge of lime between her lips that Baby fully understood what was happening. She scoffed a small laugh when Jungkook asked her to close her eyes but did it anyway and flinched slightly when the familiar feeling of his tongue against her neck hit her. He licked a stripe up the side of her neck then gingerly sprinkled a waterfall of salt over the slick area.

"You ready?" Jungkook asked in a seductive whisper and Baby felt his arms pull her closer so that she was slotted between his open legs.

"It's just a body shot Jungkook, why are you so dramatic?" Baby giggled, her eyes still shut. She blindly reached forward until she could feel his shoulders to rest her hands.

Tension bubbled up and compounded with every second that passed, Jungkook's free hand smoothly moved over her thighs then across her stomach until finally settling on her hips. Heat emanated off his skin making Baby feel oddly suffocated as she felt him move closer, his nose moving slowly up and down against her pulse exhaling warm breath over her throat before placing a few tentative licks on her skin. Then suddenly he pressed his tongue flat against the area of her neck that was covered with salt. His lips attached to the sliver of skin just underneath her earlobe, he suckled gently wrapped his arm completely around Baby's hips to press their lower bodies flush against each other.

Baby whimpered as she felt the capillaries under her skin burst when he detached his lips. In one fluid motion Jungkook swallowed the clear liquid and immediately moved forward to retrieve the lime from Baby's lips. He wrapped his lips around the green fruit slowly, applying pressure and slurping the small amount of juice that tempted to fall from her lips. Their lips barely touched and Baby found herself gripping Jungkook's shoulders tighter the more he sucked and brushed his lips against her own.

Soon the lime was forgotten, snatched from Baby's mouth and tossed into the empty shot glass beside them. Jungkook attacked Baby's lips and she tried not to smile too much as she found herself being pulled closer to Jungkook but she soon gave up that fight as his fingers trailed over her skin. Their lips melded together and Baby felt something stir in her that she was sure she’d never felt before. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled him even closer until she found herself being lifted up slightly and turned so her back was pressed against the edge of the bar. It was slightly uncomfortable but Baby didn’t really seem to mind, if the way she grinned for a few seconds and returned to kissing Jungkook was any evidence.

Baby had never really been an extroverted person, she wasn't shy by any means but she preferred to keep to herself on most occasions. So doing something like this? Making out with someone right up against a bar surrounded by other people was not in her wheelhouse. She didn't know what it was but there was just something about Jungkook that made her want to take risks. Do things she never imagined she would do. Like ask him to press her against the nearest wall and take her right then. Which is something she was seriously considering.

Her mind cleared of the hazy fog once she felt Jungkook's hands maneuvering over her body then holding on to her ass just the way they were outside on the sidewalk. She could tell what he wanted so desperately to feel his hands on, well one of the areas. A possessive growl vibrated against her throat and shook her directly to her core making Baby moan gently in response arch her body more fully against Jungkook's teasing hands. “Touch me” she murmured against him and then kissed him again.

Jungkook smiled against her lips and immediately responded by standing up and gently guiding Baby backwards until she felt her back hit a wall. They were somewhat secluded, in a corner just off from the bar where there wasn't much foot traffic. Jungkook wasted no time in obliging Baby's request by heisting her left leg high up on his waist and running his hand along the underside of her thigh. His hips instinctively flexed forward and they both groaned simultaneously as the bulge in his jeans pressed against Baby's core. Jungkook exhaled a shuddering breath against her cheek and Baby fought back the urge to reach for the zip of his jeans.

Her ankle hooked around his leg instead, to keep it in place while his hand massaged it's way up the inside of her thighs. Baby's breath caught in her throat when she felt his hand tease the sensitive nub between her legs and she barely contained the moan that tickled the back of her throat as his lips moved against the skin of her neck.

Her leg wrapped tightly around his waist once she felt the fabric of her thin underwear being pushed out of the way and Baby groaned against his lips. She was slightly worried about drawing attention to them but then his ring finger slid past her damp entrance and Baby moaned with urgency. She clawed at a few inches of hair at the back of his neck, roughly tugging and pulling him forward until he was snugly fitted into the space of her neck and clavicle. Wet kisses trailed over her flushed skin and Baby pressed both of her palms against the wall for a moment just to steady her stance when a second then third finger entered her and the pad of his thumb ground down harshly against her clit.

A gentle whimper tumbled from her lips at his tentative strokes which were then followed by a satisfied groan once his fingers began moving in earnest inside her. Her hips shot forward and took on a life of their own, gingerly rocking themselves up, down and in tight circles against his fingers. Baby was glad for the fact that she didn’t have to subtly direct him like she usually did with men who had little to no idea what they were doing. He knew exactly where and how to suck on her skin, how much pressure to apply, when to toy with her clit and when to assail her walls with his fingers. He played her like an instrument and despite her best efforts to last any longer, Baby knew it was futile. She was going to come. Hard. She gripped his hair tighter and her hips started to pump in time with his strokes of their own accord.

“SHIT, Jungkook” she whispered. “Oh, God, don’t stop. Please don’t stop." She continued to beg him while his fingers played with her velvet soft walls, his thumb applied more pressure to her clit, and that was the final straw. Baby's eyes slammed shut, her back arched off the pulsating walls of the club, and she wrapped her leg around his thigh even tighter. She shouted his name, not caring if anyone around them heard her falling to pieces at Jungkook's hands. She slowly released her stranglehold on Jungkook and her head rested against the concrete wall behind her, breathing heavily.

A ragged breath tore away from Jungkook's throat, his hand slamming forcefully against the wall next to Baby's head. He pressed his forehead against Baby's and guided her hips forward again, his erection firm and strained as he pressed himself into Baby once more. "God, I wanna fuck you so bad right now," He muttered on her lips, capturing them in another sloppy kiss. His hands tightening their grasp on her waist line "I need to be deep inside you, Baby please" Jungkook pleaded and Baby didn't have it in her heart to ignore his tortured gasps and the pained expression on his face. Her hands firmly clutched the sides of his neck and her thighs trembled when he rolled in his hips forward in a languid and tortuously slow stroke and freely moaned into her mouth.

"Bathroom, 10 minutes."

It took everything in Baby to back away and shuffle out of Jungkook's arms. The shot she took earlier was finally beginning to hit her bloodstream, making her grasp the edge of the bar to steady herself for a moment. Her legs were still far from stable and with every step Baby felt like her knees would buckle. After taking a few seconds to recoup she managed to get a round of shots ordered for her table, using Jungkook's tab and allowing one of the bartenders to deliver the tray along with a birthday message. She thought about going back to her friends, at the very least letting them know that she probably wasn't going to be coming back that night. As she took a step towards her table, Baby's phone buzzed in her back pocket; it was a photo of Jungkook shirtless, his jeans unzipped just enough to free his erection from its denim prison. His hand wrapped firmly around the base of his length and Baby groaned when she read the message attached: 'Please'.

She moved at a breakneck towards the bathroom and the second they were both behind closed doors Jungkook rested his hands on her waist pulled her lips to his and led her back further into the bathroom, deepening the kiss as they took each step. She wanted—needed— him to be inside her so badly that it actually hurt. Her body ached for him in ways that made Baby feel crazed. Once they finally made it against the furthest wall, he didn’t waste any time turning her around so Baby’s back was facing him. His hands ran up and down her bare legs and yanked her damp panties down her smooth legs before he slapped her ass hard, the smacking noise of his action bouncing off the bathroom walls. He stuck her ass out further to him and pushed her skirt up her waist as he guided his cock to her slick entrance, making Baby shiver as his engorged head pushed through her narrow lips, her breath caught in her throat as his cock sunk fully inside of her.

“Jesus, why do you have such a nice pussy?” He breathed against her shoulder. He took a slow yet shaky breath, pulling his cock out from her cunt slowly one last time. He planted his feet firmly, digging his fingertips into her golden brown skin. He then began to pound his stiff length hard into her cunt, showing no mercy as usual. “You’re so fucking tight, Baby. So fucking good.” Jungkook groaned, tilting his head up to look at the ceiling.

His girth filled her completely, almost to the point of not fitting. “Uhh!” She cried out, her palms pressing tightly against the tiled walls of the bathroom, slowly winding her hips backwards with his as he began to thrust in and out. She chuckled breathlessly when his breath fanned over her shoulder “You like this tight pussy?” She moaned and whipped her head around to smirk at him, her deep brown tresses sweeping off her shoulder as she did.

“I fucking love this tight pussy,” Jungkook pressed his lips against her ear, gnawing at her earlobe tenderly. "I want to live in your walls Baby" He groaned vigorously driving his hips against her, continuing his hot assault on her soaked sex. Every stroke made her walls tense, greedily trying to keep his slick pole nestled deep inside of her. Baby was sure that she’d have trouble walking properly after this encounter, but she’d live. “Oh God…” She moaned, arching her back to take his every thrust “Such a fucking fat cock…filling me up so good,” She whined, resting one of her hands on top of his as he continued to thrust into her.

Baby felt a small bubble of laughter almost slip out of his mouth when she whined about his cock. He licked his bottom lip, then grinned. He seized both of her hands and held them behind her back. “This fucking fat cock happens to enjoy filling you up so good, babygirl.” He kissed behind her ear. He clasped her hands together behind her with one hand as the other one slid down between her legs, pressing his fingers down on her swollen clit. His fingers rubbed quickly over the slippery nub, pounding his cock faster into her hot slit. "Cum when I tell you to" Jungkook growled against her skin.

Each dirty word he spoke made her hotter and wetter. She panted hard, trying to catch her breath between his forceful thrusts. As much as she second guessed her relationship with Jungkook , Baby could never deny that anyone else had made her this wet and turned on in a very long time. She wanted to deny it, but there was something about him…in some weird way he was becoming intoxicating to her. His voice, his features, his incredible ability to fuck her senseless…she was almost disappointed that they were out instead of in one of their homes knowing that neither of them could go as wild as they wanted to. He was a perfect fit inside her. The soft sucking noises of his length pulling in and out of her lips was the sexiest thing she ever heard…next to his voice.

As his hand travelled began fiercely rubbing her exposed clit Baby moaned loudly. She knew she wouldn't last much longer like this. Her eyelids slammed shut and Baby felt her knees begin to buckle beneath her as her walls began to constrict around him, pulsing. A simple instruction growled from above her broke her resolve to hold out any longer. “Cum for me, Baby” Jungkook demanded and Baby felt herself fly off the edge. As the heated seconds passed, the pulsing intensified until a fantastic sensation erupted inside of her. “Fuck!” She cried out, her head dropping back and her chestnut colored hair splaying over her shoulders as her walls spasmed hard, bathing Jungkook's probing length in a warm flood of her essence.

He latched his mouth to the gap of her neck and shoulder, sinking his teeth down into her overheated flesh, welcoming the rush of her sweet juices when she came. Despite her throbbing walls growing tight around his shaft, he kept on his fast-moving pace, bucking furiously between her legs. Baby flexed against his arms, trying desperately to free herself from the over-stimulation but it was futile. She groaned with a hoarse scream when she felt her walls spasm again and while she shook vigorously against his body Jungkook knew he was done for. “Shit!” He growled, stilling inside of the brown-skinned beauty. He gripped hard onto her hips, his cock trembling inside of her dripping cunt, spilling his release inside of her. Her pulsating walls still tightened around him, milking every last drop of his seed from his swollen tip, as a large satisfied smile emerged on his face. “Do you… do you wanna come back to my place tonight?” He asked, pulling back until he was no longer inside her. Choosing instead to encircle his arms around her waist. He buried his face in her neck and closed his eyes. Baby leaned back and rested her arms on top of his, using him for leverage as the bones in her legs felt like jelly.

"It's one in the morning Jungkook, I'm not taking a taxi all the way back to Harlem a couple of hours later" Baby sighed, reaching her arms backward to wrap her arms around his neck and Jungkook smirked, kissing the curve of her shoulder. He began a trail of soft kisses up from her shoulder to behind her ear.

"Then stay over, you're off tomorrow right?"

It was stupid; she knew it was but Baby couldn't stop herself from feeling elated at his very basic offer. It was the very first time he'd ever shown any interest in being with after they were done having sex. Obviously his offer was simply a prelude to them doing the same thing at his apartment once again but still.

It was a start.

Back at the table of friends June looked over to the other two girls and sighed. “She's not coming back is she?”

#bangtanarmynet #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #bts scenarios #bts smut #bts x woc #bngtanah #red lips #☆

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hopelikethemoon · 4 years

Text

Pool (Javier x Reader) {MTMF} [smut]

Title: Pool Rating: Explicit Length: 3100 Warnings: Fluff and shower sex. Notes: You can find everything about Maybe Today, Maybe Forever here. Set after “Anniversary” in 1999. FULL DISCLOSURE: This chapter is entirely unbeta’d and I’m not 100% sure what I’ve written makes sense. I’ve been in horrific pain since Sunday night. I’m talking on a scale of 1-10, I was at an 11 while writing this. I’m loopy, sore, and haven’t slept in two nights. I think, with my naps, I’ve had four hours of sleep over the past two days. So I have no idea what you’re walking into but, you know, I make great decisions. Enjoy???? Summary: Reader and Javier continue celebrating.

@grapemama @seawhisperer @huliabitch @beccaplaying @thewallpapergoesorido @twomoonstwosuns @gooddaykate @livasaurasrex @ham4arrow @plexflexico @readsalot73 @hdlynn @lokiaddicted @randomness501 @fioccodineveautunnale @roxypeanut @snivellusim @lukesrighthand @historynerd04 @mrsparknuts @awesomefandomsunited @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @exrebelshocktrooper @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @ah-callie @swhiskeys @exrebelshocktrooper @u-wakatoshii @space-floozy @cable-kenobi @cool-ultra-nerd @himbopoes @findhimfives @pedrosdoll @frietiemeloen @arrowswithwifi @cinewhore @random066 @uncomicalhumour @heather-lynn @domino-oh-damn @cyarikaaa @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @im-still-a-pieceofgarbage @ksgeekgirl @yabby-girl @xqueenofthecraziesx @punkass-potato @coredrive @pascalesque @theduchessofkirkcaldy @queenquazar @sabinemorans @buckstaposition @holkaskrosnou @yespolkadotkitty@seeking-a-great–perhaps @kochamcie @jaime1110 @katlikeme

You propped your chin up on your palm, tapping your fingers against your cheek as you looked across the table at Javier.

He had his tongue pressed to the inside of his cheek as he calculated out the tip total. His brows furrowed momentarily as he double checked his math, before he jotted his signature down and sat the bill aside.

Javier glanced up at you, “What is it?”

“Nothing.” You shook your head and smiled at him. “I was just appreciating the view.”

He chuckled, rubbing at the back of his neck as he looked away briefly, “You’re gonna make me blush, baby.”

“Maybe.” You stretched your leg out beneath the table and tapped your foot against his ankle. “It's only my first anniversary once.” You pointed out. “So I’m savoring it.”

“I think that champagne went to your head,” Javier retorted with a smirk, tapping his fingers against his temple.

You rolled your eyes, “I’d flip you off if this weren’t a nice restaurant.”

Javier snorted, shaking his head slowly as he nudged at your calf beneath the table. “Alright, so you were appreciating the view?”

“Mhm.” You bit down on the edge of your bottom lip as you held his gaze. “I was trying to remember what you looked like that first day.”

“About ten years younger.” Javier scratched at his jaw, leaning an arm against the table. “A little less grey.”

“A lot less grey.” You teased, reaching across the table to rest your hand over his. “Still just as handsome though.”

“Yeah?”

You cocked your head to the side, “Have I ever told you how much I love your eyes?”

“I always figured they were part of the package.” He shrugged, scraping his fingers over his mustache to neaten it up as you studied him. “They’re not that special.”

“Well, I think they are.” You shrugged, “They're kind. Even on your worst days, even chewing someone out… They stay so gentle. I don’t know if you even know that.”

“I hadn’t made a note of it, no.” Javier shifted again, leaning back and then forward in his seat. “You done?”

“I guess I am.” You laughed, giving his hand three squeezes, “I was planning to sit here and tell you all the things I love.”

He gave you a look. “This is the last time I’m buying you champagne.”

You lowered your voice, glancing around to make sure no one was within earshot. “I can promise you this. It has more to do with you fucking me into the hotel mattress than it does the champagne.” Your brows rose upwards as you leaned back in your chair, “So we can stop that if you want.”

Javier scoffed, “Now that’s just cruel, baby.”

You shrugged, “It’s just the facts.”

“Alright, what else is on your list?” He picked you the red and white mint the waiter had left with the bill, fiddling with the wrapper, before popping it into his mouth.

You pursed your lips as you studied him. “Your lips are definitely on the top of the list.” You tapped your foot against his, mulling over your decision. “Your nose.”

“My nose?”

“It’s a good nose.”

His brows furrowed. “My nose?” He questioned again, rubbing his finger down the length of it. “So you like... my face?”

“Obviously.” You laughed, reaching for your champagne glass and downing the last of it. Maybe it was the champagne, but you felt happy, bubbly, and just a little bit more in love with Javier than you were yesterday. But that wasn’t something new. Every day you found yourself falling in love with him all over again.

Even on the days where you wondered if Steve would help you hide the body.

“You know what I’ve always wanted to do?” You questioned as you stood up and smoothed your hands over the skirt of your dress.

Javier couldn’t help but laugh, “I can only imagine.” He held his hand out for you and you took ahold of it as the two of you walked towards the front of the restaurant.

“I’ve always wanted to jump into a pool in a nice dress.”

“What?”

“You heard me.” You squeezed his hand. “Come on, it’ll be fun.”

“You’re serious?”

You stopped, turning to face him. “You can watch if you don’t want to jump in.”

Javier scoffed, pulling you towards him. “If you’re jumping in, I’m jumping in.”

A grin spread over your lips as you met his eyes, draping your free arm over his shoulder as you leaned in to press a quick kiss to his lips. “Now you’re seeing things my way.”

“The question is… the inside or outside pool?” Javier questioned, clicking his tongue against his teeth.

“Indoor will likely be vacant since it’s nice out.” You suggested, rubbing your lips together as you considered the options. “Indoor.”

You tightened your hold on Javier’s hand, guiding him past the elevators and down the hallway — following the scent of chlorine.

“We could go back up to the room and get our swimsuits.”

“Or we could jump into the pool fully dressed.” You arched a brow at him. “You were on board a second ago.”

“I’m still on board.” Javier shrugged a shoulder. “Just keeping our options open.”

“You better not be keeping your options open.” You held up your left hand, wiggling your fingers. “You’re stuck with me.”

“That is not what I meant.” Javier huffed, stepping ahead of you to open the door that led into the pool room.

As you had expected — the pool was vacant. Beyond the wall of windows, you could see that there were still people enjoying the last rays of sunlight at the outside pool.

“We chose right.” You pointed out as you stepped past him and slid your purse off your shoulders. You say it down on one of the pool chairs, tucking your earrings, necklace, and ring into the inner pocket for safekeeping.

“It’s silk.” Javier stated as he tugged off his tie and passed it to you.

“And a gift from Josie.” You reminded him as you folded the tie carefully and placed it into your purse. “Have you ever done this before?”

Javier looked between you and the pool, “I was always fond of jumping in buckass naked.” He gave you an unamused look. “Can’t say I’m interested in getting arrested for that.”

“No, that wouldn’t be ideal.” You laughed and kicked off your heels, walking towards the edge of the pool.

“Is this a bucket list thing?” Javier questioned. You glanced back over your shoulder, watching as he peeled off his socks and tucked them into his shoes. “Did you get a look at all of my greys and decide it was time to start on one?” He tossed his wallet onto the chair beside your purse, before joining you at the edge of the pool.

You shook your head, “This is what happens when you pair a bottle and a half of champagne with a really good mood.”

Javier turned to grin at you, “So it was the champagne?”

“Oh, fuck off Javier!” You laughed, getting your chance to flip him off, just before you leapt into the pool.

You resurfaced just as Javier jumped in to join you in the pool. You wiped at your eyes, laughing as he came back up with his hair plastered to his forehead.

“Well?” Javier questioned, coughing a little as he waded in the water, keeping himself afloat. “Was it everything you thought it would be, baby?”

“Oh yeah.” You grinned at him as you swam towards him, reaching out to ruffle the hair that was stuck to his forehead. “Thank you.”

“For jumping into the pool with you?” He arched a brow at you. “I’d do anything you asked, baby.”

“Anything?” You wiggled your brows at him, leaning in to kiss him. “You taste like pool.” You laughed, brushing your nose against his.

“I wonder why.” He wrapped his arm around your waist and pulled you towards him.

“Could it be that we’re in the pool?” You laughed, winding both of your arms around his shoulders. “We should do this every year.”

“This?”

“No! Just… something spontaneous.” You kicked your legs in the water to keep your dress from dragging you down. “I mean, last year we did decide to get married.”

Javier let his head tilt back as he laughed, “What are we going to do next year?”

You pressed your tongue to the inside of your cheek, “Matching tattoos?”

“I could do matching tattoos.” Javier grinned at you, running his hand up and down your back. “Did you have a good day?” He questioned, keeping you close to him, as he guided you both towards the shallow side of the pool.

“It was perfect.” You told him with a warm

Smile, “I’m looking forward to tomorrow. As much as I love the girls, this is really ice.”

“We never got to really enjoy just us without being parents too.” Javier agreed with you, rubbing at the small of your back.

“I feel guilty about it sometimes,” You admitted, chewing on your bottom lip as you searched his eyes. “But I think that’s normal. Wanting a break from reality — just for a day or two.”

“I think that’s perfectly normal, baby.” Javier assured you, leaning in to press a kiss to your lips. “You ready to go back up to our room?”

You nodded, laughing a little, “Yeah. I think I’ve got my fill of chlorine.”

—

“Cold?” Javier questioned as he stopped unbuttoning his shirt to reach into the shower and check the temperature of the water.

Your teeth chattered a little as you wrapped your arms around your waist. “Just a bit. Know any way to fix that?”

“I might.” He arched a brow at you, tracing his tongue over the edge of his teeth as his gaze raked over you. “I think the first step is getting you out of that dress. You’re dripping everywhere.”

“So are you.” You retorted, rubbing your hands over your bare arms as Javier crowded close to you. You turned to face the mirror behind you, meeting Javier’s gaze in the reflection. “I can’t reach the zipper.”

Javier brushed your hair out of the way, kissing the back of your neck before working the zipper down your spine. “I’ve been waiting for this all night.”

“Oh?” You questioned as he peeled the straps of your dress down your shoulders, letting the wet fabric drop and pool at your feet. “You already got me naked once today.”

He clicked his tongue against his teeth, “And yet I look forward to it every time.”

You turned back around to face him, feeling much warmer now that his gaze was wandering over your naked body. “I guess I can’t judge. I’m just as bad.” You reached out to finish unbuttoning his shirt, tugging the tails out of his pants before shoving the sleeves down his arms.

Javier cupped your left breast, dragging his thumb roughly over the pebbled peak of your nipple as he pressed you back against the counter.

“I love you.” You reminded him as you pressed a kiss to the underside of his jaw.

He trailed his hand down your side, grabbing at your hip as he pressed his knee between your thighs. “I love you too, baby.” He murmured, kissing the hollow of your throat.

“We’re wasting water.” You said, tugging at his hair with one hand, while the other slid down to work at the zipper of his slacks.

Javier kissed his way up your throat, before he was nose-to-nose with you, “Then I guess we better get in.”

You grinned triumphantly as you tugged his slacks down his hips, “I can think of something I want to get in me.” You tossed back, scraping your nails lightly over his lower stomach, playing with the coarse hair that led downwards, before you slipped out of his grasp.

“You’re a tease. You know that, baby?” Javier retorted as he shucked off his slacks and boxers.

You narrowed your eyes at him, a smirk playing over your lips. “A tease would wind you up and offer no release.” You gave his cock a pointed look. “And I’m not interested in doing that.”

You slid your pool-soaked underwear down your thighs, kicking them aside before stepping into shower. The warm water made you hiss softly, a sharp contrast from the icy pool water that chilled your skin.

Javier followed you into the shower, curling an arm around your waist and pulling you back against his chest. “Even looking like this, you’re the goddamn most beautiful woman.”

“Looking like this?” You pressed your ass back against him. “What? Is there a problem with runny mascara and pool hair?”

Javier snorted, pressing his lips to the crook of your neck. “It's a good look on you.” He mumbled as his hands wandered up your stomach to cup your breasts.

You curled your fingers around his forearm, nails biting into his skin. “Javier.”

“I’m not going to tease, baby.” He promised you releasing his hold on your right breast, his hand traveling downwards until he found his destination between your thighs.

You let yourself get lost in the moment. The water falling against your skin, the steam rising from the warmth of the shower, his fingers grazing over your clit as he wound you up.

You were still sensitive from before. Thighs aching from the strain, cunt tender from the way he’d slammed into you — but you wanted more.

Sure, the two of you made time for each other at home, but this little respite gave you freedom from the daily demands of life. It didn’t matter if you slept til ten tomorrow because he’d kept you up all night.

“Oh.” You breathed out as you sank back against his chest, spreading your thighs wider as he stroked his fingers over your slick center.

Javier rasped out your name as you reached behind you and curled your fingers around the back of his neck, “You’re so fucking responsive, baby. Have I ever told you how crazy that drives me?”

“Show me.” You hissed, grinding back against his cock. “Don’t make me wait, Javi.”

His teeth scraped over the curve of your neck, as he pulled his fingers away from you. “Maybe I should make you wait.” Javier taunted. “Make you beg.”

You turned in his hold, water running down your back as you met his gaze. “You know, two can play that game.” You tilted your head backwards, letting the water soak into your hair. “Maybe,” You mimicked his voice. “We should just shower and go to sleep.”

Javier pressed his tongue to the inside of his cheek as his eyes followed the path of the water as the rivulets ran down your breasts and stomach. “We could do that.” He retorted, “But I don’t think either of us want that.”

You exhaled shakily as you watched his hand wrap around his cock, slowly pumping his fist along the length. “You’d be right. Tragically.” You rolled your eyes, a wry grin spreading over your lips.

“Thought so.” Javier said lowly, working his hand over his length still. “C’mere, baby.”

You closed the short distance between the two of you, reaching out to brush your fingers over his cheek. “Tonight was fun.”

“Yeah?” Javier cocked his head to the side, curling his hand around your hip and pulling you towards him.

“Yeah.” You nodded, brushing your thumb over his bottom lip. “There’s no one that I’d rather jump into a pool with.”

He gave your hip a playful swat. “You’re ridiculous.”

You grinned, sliding your arms over his shoulders as you leaned in to kiss him. “Gotta keep you on your toes.”

Javier guided you back under the shower’s fall, before pinning you against the wall. “Right now, I’m more concerned about keeping you off your toes.”

You snorted, running your hands over his shoulders. “Let me see what we’re working with.” You gave his arm a squeeze as you looked downwards. “Hang on.”

He helped you balance on one foot as you pressed the heel of your other foot into the little built-in shelf near the faucet head. “You got it?”

“I think so.” You nodded, holding his gaze as he slid his hand down your hip, curling his fingers around your thigh and drawing your leg around his hips. “Oh.”

Javier groaned out your name as you reached down to curl your fingers around his cock, holding him steady as he slid into you.

Your head fell back against the shower wall and you bit down on your bottom lip to keep from crying out as he pulled out and drove back into you.

“That’s it.” You urged, grabbing at his arms and his shoulders for support as he started to move.

Javier held fast to your hip, keeping your leg firmly wrapped around him. His lips ghosted down your throat, his tongue dipping out against your skin. “You feel so fucking good.”

“So do you.” You scraped your nails over his back, just to hear him hiss. “Good?”

“Fuck, yes.” Javier’s teeth caught against your collarbone, causing you to clench around him in response.

Through the opaque shower curtain, you could make out your reflections in the mirror. Two blurry bodies moving together.

Twelve years as partners, seven years as a couple, and a year of marriage. It felt like the years had slipped by in the blink of an eye.

You curled your fingers in his hair, a quiet moan slipping past your lips as he felt that subtle shift in the way he moved. “Come on, Javi. Come on.” You urged, nails scraping down the back of his neck as you tilted your head to kiss him.

He was there before you, his pace turning uneven as he spilled into you. His hand hastily wedged between your bodies as he coaxed you over the edge with him. It wasn’t as earth shattering as earlier — but the pleasure still warmed every inch of you.

“Shit.” Javier huffed out as he lost hold of your hip and you slid an inch down the wall. He stumbled back, slipping from you, and you managed to grab at his arms for support, getting your foot back on the ground without falling.

“Fuck!”

“Sorry, baby.” He rubbed his thumb over your hip.

You laughed, shoving him playfully in the chest “I mean, just drop me next time.”

He rolled his eyes, “I’ll remember that.” He gave your ass a quick swat. “The water’s getting cold.”

“The hotel probably pulled the plug on us.” You winked at him, leaning up to kiss him. “I love you.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He chuckled, winding his fingers through his hair.

You brushed your nose against his, stealing another kiss. “Rude.”

Javier curled his arms around you, pulling you towards his chest. “I love you too, baby.” He assured you, even though you didn’t need to hear it to know it.

#javier pena #javier pena x reader #pedro pascal x reader

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rosegoldannie · 4 years

Text

A feysand AU

thank you to my best friend for helping my name this!

this is a one-shot

Masterlist

*a/n please send in prompts for me to write!!*

“Please?” He groaned, the most undignified I had ever seen him. Well, the most undignified I had seen him today. He always let his facade slip when he was around me.

I huffed a sigh, continuing to dodge him, as he followed me through the halls of the stone palace. “No, I already told you. I don’t have time.” I sent up a quick prayer that he might take the hint, might not continue to follow me. My prayer went unanswered.

“Liar,” He purred, easily keeping time with my steps, even as he was strolling backwards, “I know for a fact that there are no meetings scheduled today.” That silky voice took on a slightly hurt tone. “Feyre, if you don’t want to spend time with me, you don’t have to spare my feelings.”

At that, I finally slowed, and let out a drawn out breath. “No, Rhys.” I muttered, moving to lean against a stone pillar. Partly to get us out of sight from any nosy dignitaries, and partly because I was exhausted. Having forgone sleep the previous night, entirely due to a marathon lecture from my parents and sisters, my eyes stung with the effort it took to keep them open. Racking my brain, I tried to think of an excuse that was both believable and yet not insulting. Rhys was my friend, had been since childhood, but still. Emissaries and dignitaries alike always seemed to get the wrong idea of us, and my family had told me countless times that it was disgraceful for someone of my stature to be associated with him. Nevermind that he was first in line to the throne of Velaris, whereas I was only third in line for the throne of my kingdom. Nesta’s words rang harshly in my mind, of how, yes, he was first in line, but he was tainted because of his many, many relationships with many, many women.. “I...don’t think that would be a good idea.” The words tasted like dirt, and it was an effort not to gag.

Rhysand’s expression didn’t change. “Really.” He drawled, crossing his arms.

I nodded warily, eyes flying around to ensure no one saw us.

“Because that sounds an awful lot like your family talking, darling.”

Try as I might, I couldn’t fight the blush that arose at his old nickname for me. “Stop, someone could hear you.” Shoving the hair behind my ears, I kept my eyes trained on the cold, marble flooring. “And don’t call me that, someone could get the wrong idea.”

He only chuckled, rolling his violet eyes in the way that only he could: just enough sassy to let you know he wasn’t pleased, but not harsh enough to be hurtful, with a dramatic flair, because it was Rhysand Darling, and he never did anything without a large dramatic flare. “Alright, darling.” He said.

Leaning farther back against the column, I watched out through the tall, tempered glass windows, where down on the great lawn, ant-sized people were scurrying around, and setting up the croquet game for tomorrow. I already knew no one would play, save for me and Rhys. And even then, we played only for show. Sighing again, I thought back to the vow which my parents had sworn to the neighbors of our kingdom, which was that I would marry their son once this assembly had finished. And that son, that golden boy, I already knew how he felt about Rhys.

I hadn’t brought up the topic of my marriage since we were eleven, because every single person in his court and mine had instantly begun spreading rumors that we were engaged, or would soon be. And the problems caused by those rumors were still very, very real, even though that had been nearly ten years ago. Absently, I wondered how Rhys would react when I told him, as it wasn’t exactly hidden from public knowledge that when we had been younger, it had been a real possibility that we would one day wed. I wondered if he would be upset, or simply say it was about time I was married. Or, would he become angry, and rage against the deal?

The latter, most likely. In all of the years I’d known him, Rhys had never once agreed with the practice of marrying young girls off. And I knew it weighed heavily on him that one day, soon, the prospect of marriage would be brought up for his younger sister, Stella. Though he had already begun trying to find a way out of it for her.

Absently, I mulled over the possible escape that Elain had told me: to find someone I love, or could stand, of reasonable standing, before our engagement was publicly announced, and there was a chance I wouldn’t have to marry Tamlin. I remembered how when Elain had murmured that to me, my mind had instantly conjured an image of Rhys. I knew all I had to do was ask, and he’d agree, but it was wrong. How could I take the remainder of his life from him, simply because I couldn’t stand my would-be fiance? It was the coward’s way out, and I knew in my heart that unless something major changed, I would be marrying Tamlin Greene.

I wouldn’t mention this to Rhys, because I knew that even if I didn’t tell him of what Elain had said, he would speak of it, and offer himself up. I knew how he hated Tamlin, and I knew how he would fight to keep me away from him, but it would cost him too much. He would risk going to war, his family’s wrath, and his own life. I shuddered at the thought, wrapping my arms around myself.

A hand waved in front of my vision. “Hello? Feyre Darling, what’s running through that pretty little head of yours?”

My head snapped up. “What?”

He chuckled, moving to lean against my column, his shoulder brushing against mine. “You looked a million miles away.” He murmured, shaking his head chidingly. “Now, let’s try this again. Want to go flying?”

Arms dropping to my sides, I grinned and huffed out a laugh. “Wow, seriously?”

Rhys grinned. “I’ve got all the time in the world, Darling.”

My smile faltered. Must be nice.

Looking away, I shook my head. It must be nice to have all the time in the world. To never concern yourself with marriages, and allies, foes and wars. I sighed, twirling a small strand of hair around my index finger. I knew the moment I married Tamlin, this, whatever it was with Rhys, would be gone. A chill ran down my spine at the thought, but still I forged ahead. Tamlin wouldn’t allow me out of his sight, I knew. I clenched my eyes shut, and released a harsh sigh. “Alright, fine. I’ll go flying with you.”

Rhysand instantly grinned, his violet eyes almost glowing as he did a small victory dance in place, that stupid grin turning cocky and arrogant.

I couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled from my lips. “You’re pathetic, Rhys.”

His grin widened. “Only for you, Darling.”

My cheeks burned, so I shoved off the column, and began leading the way down the hall, with Rhys trailing at my heels, murmuring profanities and innuendos. We fell into relative silence as we wound through the corridors, and made our way down to the great lawn.

Again, my mind began to wander. I knew Tamlin likely wouldn’t approve of my friendship with Rhys, and would probably demand that it end. I also knew that if his prior actions were anything close to how he really was, that I would most likely never see my friend again. Elain had spent nearly every night since our parents had informed me of my would-be fiance, warning me of his secret mannerisms, and trying to get me to find another husband.

I knew that she was right, that there was no way I could ever be happy with Tamlin, and that if I were to fall in love, our parents would likely approve the marriage, but I would have to move quickly. The engagement would be announced within the next few weeks, and then there would be no turning back. But still, the only person I could ever fathom marrying was Rhys. But I simply couldn’t do that to him. He deserved so much better than me. And even though I knew he would say yes in a heartbeat, I just couldn’t. This was Rhys, whom I had known my entire life. Rhys, who had always been there for me, who had been my best friend for almost twenty-one years. I just couldn’t ask him to throw the remainder of his life away for me, simply because I didn’t like my future fiance.

Making up my mind, I decided that I wouldn’t bring up this with Rhys. I would enjoy these last few weeks with him, before I became a pawn in the eons old game of our world. I would treasure these last few weeks where we could go and sneak out, do whatever we wished. And I would make these the best weeks of my life.

Rhys nudged my arm, drawing me from my thoughts. I found that we were just out of sight from the servants in the great lawn, our figures obscured by the trees. I looked back to him, and found him grinning that impish grin that he only ever had around Stella and I. “Race you to the bluff,” He said, stepping a few feet away, “I win, and you owe me a favor. You win, favor’s yours.”

I grinned back, and nodded excitedly.

We both crouched down, and Rhys began to count down. “3...2...1...HEY!”

I had taken off before he finished the countdown, laughing impishly. Rhys was shouting profanities after me, and struggling to catch up.

My feet pounded against the forest floor in a hypnotizing rhythmic silence. The late autumn breeze bit at my cheeks, stinging them a rosy pink. At some point, I stopped hearing him crash through the underbrush, shouting obscenities and threats.

When I knew we were long out of earshot from the palace, I let out a cackling laugh, and savored the way my voice echoed off the mountains surrounding the Fae Palace of Autumn. The sun shone through the trees in select places, almost seeming to highlight the subtle beauties of the forest.

Feet rushing over logs and ravines alike, I allowed the worries of my life to be stripped away by the wind, and the ever growing distance from the palace. It felt as if with each step I took, my problems faded, becoming increasingly smaller, until they vanished completely.

Up ahead, I saw our bluff. The trees were different than they had been the last time we came here, when I was thirteen, and Rhys sixteen. I remembered how small and insignificant I had felt, staring over that ledge. The trees had seemed impossibly small, the surrounding mountains reminding me that while I was immortal, my life was fleeting. I remembered how Rhys and I had leapt over that ledge together, plummeting towards those impossibly small trees, until his wings had appeared, and he had scooped me up, as we soared towards the mountains in the distance.

I skidded to a stop, just before the edge, sending a spray of dirt and pebbles over the edge. As always, I felt shivers run down my spine, as my muscles tensed. I almost laughed at how nothing had changed in this forest. The Great Mountain still was barely visible in the distance, the trees acting as a red, golden and green carpet towards that giant, looming rock. Heavy, dark clouds obscured the peak from view.

Suddenly, I felt a presence behind me. Rather than jump, I just calmly glanced back towards Rhys, who was simply taking in the view. His jaw wasn’t set, as it often was in the palace. His shoulders weren’t tensed, and his hands were resting on his hips. Those violet eyes were unguarded, raking over the landscape. My eyes began moving down, and I nearly started at how close we were, a heavy blush warming my cheeks. He was nearly pressed against my back, only a few inches separating us.

At last, Rhys sighed, dragging his eyes away from the view ahead of us. He rubbed at his eyes, as if to wipe away invisible tears. “Wow,” He murmured, at last meeting my gaze, “it looks exactly the same.”

I gave him a soft smile, grateful for the wind giving an excuse to my blush. “I know.”

He only smiled sweetly back, his gaze holding mine for more than a few seconds too long. Then his signature smirk returned. “Ready, Feyre Darling?”

Grinning, I shoved at his shoulder, and paced a few meters away from the edge. “Don’t call me that.” I griped, though there was no malice behind it.

Rhys only grinned, and followed me. “Ladies first,” he teased.

Faltering, I gave him a blank look. “After you, then. I insist.”

Glaring at me, Rhys crossed his arms and shook his head. “That favor’s mine. You know that, right?”

I blanched. “What?!”

He grinned wickedly. “You cheated, therefore, you forfeit the winnings to me.”

I snarled at him, racking my brain for any possible loophole. And when I found none, I called him a foul name. Rhys only smiled, and bowed mockingly.

Annoyance pulsed through me, and I gave him a vulgar gesture , then took off. Unlike before, my feet pounded violently against the rock, echoing off the mountains. As I quickly approached the edge, I took a deep breath, then leaped.

I almost seemed to hover in midair for a few seconds, momentum carrying me further and further from that ledge. Then gravity caught up, and I began to fall, wind whipping violently at my hair and clothes as adrenaline set my heart pounding too hard, it must have been heard back at the palace. The golden-red canopy below was rapidly approaching, but I paid it no attention, my eyes instead trained on Rhys, who had leaped only a second after me. His eyes were trained on mine, as he seemed to tear through the air, growing increasingly closer to me, his powerful wings ripping from his back.

Those strong arms wrapped around me, drawing me tight against him only milliseconds before I would have crashed into the trees. His wings beat powerfully, carrying us up, up, up. Slowly, we began to readjust ourselves, one of my arms coming to wrap around his neck, as he maneuvered an arm underneath my knees, the other winding around my back. My head came to rest on his shoulder, my free arm placed on his chest.

At last, the beats of his wings evened out, coming every few seconds in a relaxing rhythm. I gave him a few moments to relax, and gather his bearings, before I pinched him.

“What the hell was that for?” He blurted indignantly, glaring at me.

I made a sour face. “Cutting it a bit close there, weren’t we?” I said sweetly.

He made a grunting noise, then shifted me roughly. “And?”

I scoffed, slapping his arm. Not enough to hurt, nowhere even close. “I nearly hit the trees!” I griped.

Those violet eyes shifted keenly, a smarmy smirk slithering onto his lips. “Ah, yes. That.” He teased, giving me a fake apologetic look. “Nearly, being the key word there, Darling.”

I squawked indignantly, shaking my head. “Rhysand, you prick-” I started.

“Now, now, Feyre dearest. One bad leap and you’re back to calling me Rhysand?” He gave me a hurt look, pretending he was about to cry. “I’m hurt, I thought we were past that.”

I rolled my eyes. “You’re a prick.”

That smarmy smirk returned. “You love it.”

I couldn’t stop my smile, and allowed my head to once again rest on his shoulder.

After a while, the steady, booming beats of his wings, and the warmth he radiated began to turn my eyelids heavy, and I soon fell asleep in his arms. The rushing of the wind against me, accompanied by Rhys’s arms holding me tight, quickly whisked me off to a land of dreams.

What awoke me was the change in the wind, as Rhys began to angle us downwards, aiming for an open meadow. Unable to stop myself, I let out a yawn, and stretched my arms out as we landed on the grassy knoll. My knuckle brushed against a whorl of his tattoo, peeking out from the collar of his tailored jacket. Rhys glanced down at me, a small smile on his lips. “Well look who decided to join the land of the living,” he teased, murmuring softly.

Blushing, I found it hard to meet his gaze. “I was tired.” I hissed. “I didn’t sleep much last night.” His smile only widened, and he set me down, though I kept that one arm wrapped around his neck, without realizing.

“Oh, really?” He purred, one hand coming to rest on my hip, the simple gesture sending bolts of fire racing through me. I could only nod in response, finding it difficult to meet his gaze. Rhys leaned forward, his breath warming my cold ears. “And what, pray tell, were you doing, Darling?”

My eyes widened, and I shoved him away. “Rhysand!” I snapped, taking a good few steps away. He was bent over, hands braced on his knees, laughing himself hoarse. “You’re a prick!” I grumbled, crossing my arms. He only laughed harder, until he fell over, wheezing like a drowning mole. Then he laid on the ground, cackling and snorting and coughing and wheezing.

After afew minutes, I sat down on the silky grass, crossing my legs beneath me. “Are you quite finished there, Oh High and mighty Prince Rhysand?”

He chuckled, then at last looked over at me. And it felt as if the air had been ripped from my lungs. He was absolutely gorgeous. The sparing rays of sunlight landed just so on his eyes, setting them from a deep violet to something akin to a glowing, midnight flame. His inky hair held an almost otherworldly glow to it. It made my fingers itch for a pen and paper, to capture this.

That smile changed, to something that I didn’t dare try to comprehend.

Instead, I continued studying him, trying to memorize the way the sunlight hit his angled face, how it warmed his skin tone,and amplified his already sharp cheekbones.

“What’re you looking at?” He murmured, moving to prop his head up with one arm.

I nearly chastised him for moving, but stopped at the last second, having decided I liked this angle better. “I’m going to draw you,” I replied, my eyes continuing to rove over his face and shoulders. “This angle suits you.” There was no embarrassment behind my words, no blushing. Rhys knew I loved to draw, knew I had countless sketches of him scattered throughout my small studio back home.

Rhys just kept that soft smile, though it turned slightly wicked, as that glint shone in his eyes. “You know, Darling. I’ve told you many times just how willing I am to model nude for you.”

I only scoffed, rolling my eyes.

The wickedness vanished from his eyes. He held my gaze as he waved one hand, and a sketchbook appeared, a piece of charcoal rolling on top. My eyes nearly bugged out of my head, as I scampered out to take it from him. I didn’t want to decipher what that gleam in his eyes were, or what it could mean for us. So instead, I simply sat cross legged a few feet from him, and began to sketch.

We stayed quiet for a while, with me sketching, and glancing up every few moments, with Rhys just lounging like the lazy cat he was. I chuckled at the thought; Rhys as a lazy cat, and quickly sketched down a rough drawing of a small, black cat sleeping in the sun, then returned to my main drawing. “What’s so funny?” He said, narrowing his eyes playfully.

I chuckled, moving to have a better view of his eyes. “I was just thinking… You’re not that different from a house cat.”

He scoffed, holding my gaze. “How so?”

I gave a small smile. “You purr, sleep in the sun, and are the laziest person I know.”

His jaw dropped. “How dare you.” He hissed in mock offense.

I grinned, shifting to lay on my stomach, drawing now long forgotten. “Am I wrong?” I murmured.

Rhys shifted to mirror my position, our faces only a few inches apart. “You’re gonna pay.”

I Leaned closer, our noses nearly brushing. “Oh, really?”

No sooner had the words left my mouth, than he had pounced, landing gracefully on top of me, knees braced on the ground, as he tickled me. I shrieked in indignance, shoving at him as I cackled, tears streaming down my cheeks. He only paused his torment to lean down. “Apologize.” He murmured in my ear, glaring down.

“Never.” I swore, glaring right back up at him. He made to resume his torment, but I moved too quickly, shifting us to that he was the one pinned down, his wings slamming against the grass with a harsh thunk. I winced, and withdrew slightly. When Rhys didn’t shove me off, I leaned down to snarl in his ear. I pretended not to notice how informal he was around me. Not in regards to manners, but his wings. I knew how important they were to an Illyrian, and what it meant for him to allow me to be so close to them. Then, pinning his wrists down, I whispered, “There’s nothing you can do to make me apologize.” I saw the spark of challenge in his eyes less than a second before he lunged for me, as I dodged him, throwing myself to the side. For a split second, I could have sworn he was blushing madly.

I started laughing, then a heavy weight - Rhys - slammed into me, and sent us rolling down the hill. I swore as a clump of dirt slammed into me, but kept laughing as we rolled, each shoving and lunging at the other, trying to gain the upper hand. Rhys was laughing so loud I was sure they could hear it all the way back in Velaris, but I didn’t care, because he was happy.

We kept our game going, of shoving and tackling and tickling the other, until we rolled down a particularly rough patch of vegetation. I let out a sharp curse as something painful scraped across my back, and I jerked away.

Distantly, I heard running water. Then Rhys began swearing.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit!” Before I could ask, he was shoving me over him, to rest on his chest. His arms held me steadfast as his wings cocooned us in. His forehead pressed into my neck, and over his shoulder, I could just see whirling trees and twigs and leaves and branches as we tumbled roughly down the hillside.

We slammed into something hard, and Rhys let out a sharp grunt, tightening his grip on me, becoming near painful, as we slowed to a stop. He held onto me for a little while longer, before his wings slowly unfurled, and he let out a pained groan, his head thunking onto the sand below us.

I sat up, bracing my knees on either side of his hips as my head spun so wildly I had to put my hands on his chest to keep from falling over. After a few moments, I glanced around. We were a few meters away from a small river, glistening in the sunlight as it trickled over and around stones. My gaze returned to Rhys, who was panting slightly beneath me, his eyes clenched shut. I made to move away, but he quickly stopped me with a hand on my knee. “No, please. Don’t.”

Glaring down, I was about to make a snarky remark about our position, but when I saw his face, the words died on my lips. “Rhys, are you alright?” His eyes were clenched shut, I had thought, from vertigo. But now I could see a single tear sliding from his eye. “Rhys, please, you need to answer me, alright?” My voice was more panicked now, as my hands fluttered worryingly around his head, unsure of what to do.

“I just, j-just need a minute, okay? I’m fine, I swear.”

My heart clenched. “Bullshit, Rhys.” I murmured, allowing one hand to go rest against his cheek. “No, no. Don’t lie. Not to me.” He slowly began to relax, and leaned into my hand. My heart pounded way harder than it should have.

Rhys slowly opened his eyes. “Ngh…my wing, it….shit.”

I nodded, thumb stroking his cheekbone. “Alright, alright just breathe, okay? Where does it hurt?”

He made a gesture with his hand, and I quickly moved off of him, one of my hands going to brace his shoulders, the other going to clasp his hand, helping him to slowly move to a sitting position. Rhys let out a deep groan, clenching my hand so tight that I had to grit my teeth.

Once he was upright, I slowly maneuvered myself behind him, in a low crouch. One hand remaining on his shoulder, holding both of us steady. “Shit.” I breathed, eyes trailing over his wings. Countless cuts and scrapes were raw and bleeding, but that wasn’t what concerned me. It was the joint I could see which was clearly dislocated.

Rhys let out a tight breath. “It’s bad?”

“Could be worse.” I muttered, moving over to the rushing water, and cupping some in my hands. It wasn’t a lie; it could have most definitely been worse, but that by no means meant his injuries were good. I returned to his wings, and carefully dribbled it over the countless cuts, and gently cleaned them of the dirt that had become lodged. The only sign of his discomfort was several, measured breaths. Once that was done, I dried my hands on my pants, and braced them on his shoulders. “This is going to hurt, alright?”

I didn’t miss the intake of breath, or the slight tensing of his shoulders. I prepared myself to reassure him, knowing how sensitive he was in regards to his wings. Knew how difficult it was for him to let anyone be near them, let alone touch them.

He nodded, looking over his shoulder to meet my gaze. “I trust you.”

My throat burned painfully, and my eyes became lined with silver. I cleared my throat, and quickly set about moving the joint back into its proper place. I knew it hurt, hurt like hell. But Rhys was taking it in stride, only letting out a few sharp grunts as I worked. At last, I finished, and sat back on my heels.

No sooner had my hands left his wings, than they vanished with a puff of smoke, and he fell back into my lap, head resting on my thigh. I knew he had sent them off to some pocket dimension to heal, which they could do much quicker there than here. Rhys let out a sharp huff, and wound one arm around my waist, drawing me to rest up against his stomach. We were in a strange circle, his head on my thigh, me leaning against his side, as we had done when we were children. Slowly, I began to relax, and even went so far as to move so that I could use his stomach as a pillow, without disturbing his head.

“Thank you, Feyre.” He said, so quietly I almost didn’t hear it.

“Of course.” I murmured, my eyes trained on the sky overhead. I’d never liked the Autumn Kingdom. It was always just the slightest bit too blustery, too cold. I knew some of our friends, Thesan and Cresseida, agreed. In the past, when the alliance held their meetings here, I had rarely gone outside, because the Autumn kingdom reminded me far too much of a cold spring day. Bile threatened to rise in my throat as I realized that the Spring Kingdom was like this for a majority of the year, only raining. I’d likely rarely ever see a clear sky, let alone a night sky. Tears pricked at my eyes, but I blinked them away, and shoved the intrusive thoughts from my head, only to realize that Rhys was talking to me. His eyebrows were drawn together, his eyes slightly sorrowful.

“...really sorry, Feyre. It’ll heal quickly, but I don’t think I can fly us out tonight. I can’t winnow, either. All of my magic is going towards healing my wings. I’m so, so sorry.”

I gripped his hand tightly, even as dread pooled in my gut. “Rhys, don’t worry about it. Everything will be alright, I can take care of this.” Biting my lip, I internally worried about what would happen back at the palace, as we hadn’t informed anyone where we were going. I sent up a silent prayer that Stella would cover for us.

I glanced warily around us. While there weren’t many creatures worth fearing in the Autumn Kingdom, certainly none so close to the palace, it still wasn’t a good idea to remain out in the open, and risk exposure. My eyes tracked the rhythmic swaying of the trees, the ever shrinking distance between us, and those grey clouds which I now knew to be storm clouds. Roving up the hillside, I quickly scanned back and forth up the mountain. At last, I spotted a small cave part of the way up the hill opposite us, across the river. I decided that I would give him some time to rest, before asking him to begin trekking to that cave.

Shifting, I allowed my head to nuzzle into his stomach, and I gazed up into the sky, savoring the warm rays of sunlight on my face. Almost instantly, his fingers began running through my hair, twisting the strands gently, as he took deep, even breaths. I focused on the sunlight, and his fingers running through my hair, as he breathed evenly. Against my will, my mind began to wander to my would-be fiance, and his court.

How they viewed themselves as above their people, and ruled with an iron fist. I knew that would no doubt extend to me. That by this time next year, I would be married, would be Tamlin’s property. I knew how he treated women, how he controlled them. I would be expected to churn out heir after heir, and be there whenever he wanted to make love. I would be expected to lose myself in him, to give over to his every whim. I was to become his dutiful wife, even if it destroyed me. Never again would I be allowed to run free in the forest, or not care whether there were sticks and brush tangled in the honeyed strands. I would be expected to always look my best, to never have an off day or speak back. I was to become his dutiful, obeying, beautiful, silent, loving, and demure wife.

Something in my chest crunched so viciously it hurt. He would destroy me, in every way and every facet. There would be nothing of me left; he would remold me into his perfect wife, bedmate. He would ruin me and turn me into nothing. And I had no choice.

Elain’s offer rang loudly in my ear: To find someone else, fast. To find someone who Tamlin wouldn’t dare challenge. But the only person he wouldn’t dare go against was Rhysand. And even if I put my worries about ruining him aside, even if I chose to be selfish and save myself, it was no guarantee I would be free. The union would have to be approved by both of our families, and my secret would no doubt be revealed. And so I had no choice.

Looking up, my eyes snagged on Rhys, his calm expression warmed by the sun. Completely unworried and unfazed by the world of palaces and kingdoms we had left behind. “I’m going to miss this.” The words were out before I could stop them, small and scared. I clamped a hand over my mouth, as if that would draw them back in. I watched as his eyes slowly opened, as they searched for me. I watched as they narrowed slightly, as he slowly sat up, never once breaking my gaze.

My breathing quickened, my eyes burning with unshed tears.

“What did you say?”

I couldn’t-couldn’t do this. I didn’t want his pity. I didn’t want to see him freeze, how I knew he would pause, grow still. Internally raging that I was to be given away like a prized dog. It would be easier, so much easier if he found out when the rest of the world did, if he were to assume I was happy with my husband. That this was what I wanted.

And so I leaped to my feet, turning to the side so I could dry my eyes. “Nothing! I didn’t say anything.” I knew better than to look back at him, where he could almost certainly read the lie in my posture alone. Mercifully, he didn’t question me, only giving a small grunt. “Come on.” I said, slipping my leather boots, and socks off, rolling up the cuffs of my pants so that they rested just above my knees. “We need to find shelter, there’s a cave up there.”

I kept several steps ahead of Rhys as we crossed the river, the water bitingly cold against my lower legs. At one point, I had stepped on a slippery rock, and lost my balance. He caught me, drawing me against his chest, his breaths fanning across my face. It was too difficult to look him in the eyes, so I just stared at his collarbone, the outline of which I could see through his shirt. After a few moments, I shoved away roughly, my heart pounding wildly. Frigid water splashed around me, as I stomped across the remaining few meters of the river.

Rhys let out a huff, amusedly watching me furiously shove my shocks and boots on.

I silenced him with a sharp glare.

He held up his hands in mock surrender, smirking.

The simple action set my lower lip trembling, as my eyes filled with tears. I pushed off from the log I had perched on, ignoring his questioning look. I again wiped at my eyes as I began to ascend the hillside. Behind me, Rhys was crashing loudly through the underbrush, no doubt in annoyance. Thankfully, this hill was nowhere near as steep as the one we had tumbled down, little more than a slightly steep incline.

Behind me, Rhys began grumbling to himself. “...females...Who the hell...they’re thinking?...”

A short distance from the cave, I whirled on him, my face burning in anger. “Do you have something to say to me?” He blinked in surprise, eyes going almost comically wide, as he opened and closed his mouth. “No? Then shut up.” Rhys flinched, and I nearly apologized. But I turned, and stormed the rest of the way to the cave, glaring furiously into it, daring anything within to make its presence known.

When nothing did, I waved him forward.

Rhys was panting, his brow glistening with sweat. He made to reach an arm out to me, but I shoved past him, moving to a small crack in the stone. I knelt down, and used my magic to create a small, gurgling stream. Then, I went to the back of the cave, which was maybe four meters from the entrance, and kicked some dried out sticks into a small pile, before lighting them. He carefully moved towards the small pile, eyeing me cautiously, before kneeling down, and warming his hands. I shrugged my jacket off, and threw it down across from him.

I spent the next several hours bringing in any grass and leaves I could find which weren’t too dried out, and putting them into a large pile. After my sixth or so trip to drop off foliage, Rhys at last spoke up. “What are you doing?” His voice was small, cautious. I hated that my words had clearly hurt him so much, but I knew it would be easier for him to believe that I was happy, if he was angry with me.

But I still couldn’t bring myself to snap again. “Gathering things to serve as our beds.”

He swallowed. “Beds, plural?” I nodded, and he licked his lips before continuing. “Um, logistically, wouldn’t it, uh, make more sense to share one?”

I scoffed, throwing down the armload of grass. “Of course you’d say that.” I muttered.

Rhys gave me a withering look. “For warmth, Feyre. Nothing else.”

Sighing, I dropped to my knees, and began to spread out the foliage across the stone floor.

No sooner had I finished that, than it began pouring, the rain coming down so hard and fast that it richocched back up several inches. Rhys managed to scrape enough of his power together to place a small shield over the entrance to the cave. Once that was done, I moved to the corner opposite Rhys, and hugged my knees to my chest, eyes staring unseeingly into the fire.

Rhys tried to make light conversation several times, but I ignored him in favor of watching the twisting flames. After about an hour of tense silence, I pulled my jacket on again, and curled up in a small ball, trying to take up the least amount of space possible on our makeshift bed.

I was running, running as quickly as my feet would allow.

My heart was pounding so hard I thought it would burst, or worse, reveal my location. I crashed through the undergrowth, into a small clearing full of wildflowers. My stomach heaved at the sight. I hated wildflowers, their too-bright colors, and sickeningly sweet scent. He knew this, and yet they were still my wedding gift.

Blood dripped from the raw, gaping wounds on my arm, falling down, down, down, to splatter on a hideous pink rose. My fingers itched for a piece of charcoal, but I knew it would be useless in my hands. I hadn’t drawn in years; it was one of the first things he had demanded I stop. ‘Too messy,’ he said, or ‘too unladylike.’

Distantly, a ferocious roar shook the trees, and my blood turned to ice.

He knew. He knew I had left, and he was coming for me.

Again, I broke into a run. My flimsy pink slippers had long since fallen away, and now my feet were pounding against the coarse dirt and rocks, bleeding with every step.

The roars grew closer, accompanied by thundering footsteps.

I knew this was my only chance, and so I pushed harder, until the air was fire in my lungs and each step and breath felt like I was dying.

The roars turned into huffing, animalistic breaths, and those thundering footsteps sounded from right behind me. Paralyzing fear sent my blood to burning ice, tears streaming freely down my face.

Terror urged me to go faster, but I was ripped back by something agonizing wrapping around my wrists and ankles, cutting into them, and forcing me to the ground on my back. A heavy, suffocating paw slams to the ground, millimeters from my head. I am helpless as a horned wolf snarls down at me. I attempt to clench my eyes shut, anything, anything to escape from this hell.

The creature roars in my face, so deafeningly loud that my ears ring.

Sobbing, I open my eyes to gaze into that of my husband.

The throned vines around my wrists and ankles tighten, blood gushing from the wounds they inflict.

“I warned you, Feyre.” Tamlin snarls at me.

I open my mouth to beg for forgiveness, but a swipe of his paw, and my throat is slit, and I bleed to death.

I awake shrieking, trembling in every limb, my body soaked in sweat. I make to roll over, to move, do anything to assure myself that it was just a nightmare. It is then that I am made aware of the form hovering over me.

I clench my eyes shut, arms coming up to block my face, legs kicking wildly.

Strong hands grip my upper arms, and haul me against a warm, hard chest. I continued fighting and thrashing, until I felt the hands stroking my hair, and recognized that voice. “Feyrefeyrefeyrefeyrefeyrefeyre,” Rhys was murmuring, over and over into my hair.

I stilled, allowing the hot tears to fall.

He held me tighter, cradling me sweetly, as he said my name like a prayer.

Without thinking, my hands wound around his waist to hug him closer, every single part of me burning.

An untold amount of time later, we slowly began to part, and I found my face burning.

Rhys silently shifts us so that he is leaning against the cave wall, with me sideways across his lap.

He still cradles me against his chest, one hand running soothingly up and down my arm, and my breathing begins to even out. After a while, he turns his head to gaze at me, his nose brushing mine. “Do you want to talk about it?”

I shook my head, and pressed my forehead into the crook of his neck. “It was a nightmare.” I whispered. He pressed a kiss to the crown of my head, waiting for me to continue. “I...it was about..about…” My voice cracks, and the tears begin to flow. He rubbed soothing circle on my back. I took several deep breaths, and clenched my eyes shut. “..it was about my fiance.”

He stilled, that hand on my back freezing in place. “Your what.”

I hated the words as soon as they left my lips, and began to untangle myself from him. Rhys simply held me in place, firm enough to keep me still, yet loose enough that I could leave if I wished. I didn’t. I wanted him to hold me, and say that this was all just a bad dream. Again, I allowed him to pull me close, and again I rested my head in the crook of his neck. Taking a steadying breath, I began. “My fiance, Rhys.”

Remaining still, I could feel his slow breathing. I knew he was trying to discern what to feel. “Who?”

I choked on a sob, pushing impossibly closer to him.

Rhys reacted instantly, seeming to wrap his entire being around me. “Oh, Feyre Darling, no, no, please don’t cry.” He murmured, even as I felt his tears on my shoulder. “Please don’t cry, I’ll fix this. I’ll fix this, I promise you.”

I hiccupped, and sniffled. “You can’t.” I whispered.

“I will.” He vowed, running his fingers through my hair.

Pulling back, I braced both of my hands on his shoulders, and firmly met his gaze. “Rhysand, listen to me. I do not want you to fix this, it’s not worth it.” Rhys opened his mouth to protest, but I interrupted him. “It’s too dangerous, and it’s not worth it.”

Rhys stared me down. “Feyre, it is worth it. I don’t care if it kills me, I’ll fix it. You don’t deserve this.”

Fresh tears sprung to my eyes, but I ignored them. “No, no. You don’t understand. It’s too dangerous!” I insisted, begging him to believe me.

Again, he stared me down, then gently began wiping my tears away.

“Rhys,” I began, trying to not savor the way his fingers felt against my cheekbone, “it’s Tamlin.”

Everything froze. The rain outside, the cracking of the fire, Rhys’s heartbeat, his breathing. Everything.

He let out a small whimper, drawing me back against him.

After we parted, he held my face reverently in his hands. The look in his eyes would have brought me to my knees, had I been standing. Even then, I had the distinct feeling of falling as I gazed into his eyes. “Feyre, I do not care what happens to me, whether I live or die. I do not care whether I need to wage a war, or kill him myself. But believe me when I say this: You will not marry Tamlin unless it is your choice, and only yours.”

His words crashed into me with the force of a tidal wave, washing away everything I felt. No, not everything. It washed away everything save for that small, miniscule word that had been echoing in my head for years, since I had first learned of what it meant, that I was too much of a coward to face. Rhys sweetly pushed a strand of hair behind my ear, as he studied my face. “Why?” I rasped, searching his eyes. “W-why would you do this for me?”

Something faltered in his gaze. His hand dropped from my face. “Because we’re friends.” He said monotonously.

I shook my head, my eyebrows drawing together. “No, Rhys. Friendship is...it’s loaning your friend a coat when they’re cold. Not… this. This...you’re threatening to go to war for me. You’re risking your life, your kingdom. Why?”

Rhysand became quiet, simply observing me. Tracking over every feature of my face. I didn’t miss how they lingered on my lips for several seconds too long, before drifting down to where his hands rested on my waist. “Because I care about you.”

Confusion and disappointment lanced through me. “I care about you, too-”

“No, Feyre.” He uttered, shaking his head. “You don’t get it.” At last, he met my gaze again. He took a deep breath, and clenched his jaw. “I care about you. As more than a friend, Feyre.”

My world went silent, save for the roaring that began in my ears. “What?” The word was little more than a gasp.

Another deep breath. “I...I’ve been in love with you since we were kids, Fey.” He murmured, a hand coming up to rest on the back of my neck. “And how could I not? Yo-you’re strong, you’re confident, beautiful. You’re perfect. And I can’t stand the idea of anyone hurting you. The thought of you in pain, it… it’s worse than anything I’ve ever known. Worse than death. And...I understand if you don’t want this. Just say the word, and we’ll pretend that none of this ever happened, a-”

I snapped, tears streaming freely down my face. I closed the distance between us, crushing my lips to his. Rhys was frozen for just a moment, then he held me close. So close it was as if he was trying to mold us into one being. Our lips moved together as if this were a dance they had done since the beginning of time, two star crossed lovers who at last met.

Rhys kept one hand cupping my jaw, the other going to my hip. I plunged my fingers into his hair, and savored the way they glided across my skin. Tugging on the ends, I drew him closer, and moved so that I was partially straddling his lap. That hand on my hip began to drift lower, until it was cupping my behind. Rhys began placing soft, sensual kisses down my jaw, and to my neck. He drifted down to where my coat ended, and pushed it aside, beginning to suck and bite gently on the skin there. I let out a low groan, and my knees gave out. I was now fully straddling him, and it felt like the answer to a question I had asked for my entire life.

I managed to stop his sinful assault, to meet his gaze. I knew I needed to get the words out now, while I still had the courage. “Rhysand…” I began, suddenly finding it so, so difficult to look him in the eyes without grinning stupidly. “I have loved you since the day you strutted into my life. You somehow always put a smile on my face, and I will always be grateful for that.”

His eyes softened, and he kissed me sweetly, softly. “I love you.”

My heart began pounding so hard that he grinned wickedly, leaning forward to kiss me tortuously, his tongue tracing my lips. I opened for him, my arms wrapping around his neck to secure him to me. And my world went white.

He slowly lowered us to the ground, one hand remaining on my hip, the other twining into my hair as he braced himself up with an elbow.

My entire being felt as if it were on fire, zinging with electricity. Rhys pulled away for a split second to look me in the eyes, love and reverence shining clear as day, before pressing several more sweet kisses to my lips. He looked at me as if I were a goddess, made of stars and moonlight, as if I were his greatest treasure. “I love you, so much.” He said, those violet eyes roving over my face. I had lost track of how many times I had seen him do that tonight, as though he was drinking me in.

Again, my heart pounded in response, and he grinned wickedly.

His head dipped down to my collarbone, placing sweet, loving kisses across it, and I couldn’t help my gasp, that hand in his hair tightening its grip. His grin turned even more wicked, and he began to descend lower, pressing kiss after sweet kiss to my ribs, then my stomach, then hips. When he reached the button of my pants, he looked up, eyes seeking permission. Internally, I began to grow nervous, though I didn’t know why. This was Rhys, and he loved me, respected me. So why was I nervous?

Whatever he saw in them had him nodding slightly, and kissing his way back up to my lips. I made to kiss him again, but he stopped me with a gentle hand on my shoulder, rolling over to lay beside me. “Hold on,” He chuckled, grinning as I pouted, “I want to say something.”

My face again grew hot, and I hid my face in his chest. “I’m sorry,” I groaned, hating the embarrassment cascading through me, “I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I just-”

Hands caressed my back. “Hey, no, no. Look at me, Feyre, please.” I don’t know what I expected, but it was the opposite of what I found. He wasn’t smiling, but he wasn’t angry. If anything, he looked concerned. Resting a hand on my waist, he said, “You said no, and you don’t owe me an explanation. You decided that you weren't ready, and I respect that. It’s your body, therefore your decision.”

My lower lip began trembling, and I threw my arms around him again. “Thank you, Rhys.”

He held me tightly, enough so that I could feel his smile against my neck. “Of course, Darling.”

“I love you,” I whispered, feeling Rhys tense, then his grip tightened on me. Hot tears again soaked through my shirt, and so I held him as he sobbed, murmuring into his hair how much I loved him. His breathing remained uneven for a long while, breaths coming in gasps and pants. I only held him tighter, trying to communicate my love through that.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that, wrapped up in each other, until we fell asleep listening to the other’s heartbeat, but it was long enough for the fire to burn out, and the sun to rise just over the trees. It wasn’t until our stomachs began to grumble viciously, that we at last began to stir.

Rhysand was the first to stand, stretching his arms above his head, and groaning. I could only clench my teeth, and continue lacing up my boots, even as my face flushed. He noticed this, leaning down to press a surprisingly hesitant kiss to my lips, his normally wicked grin slightly off. “Something bothering you, Feyre Darling?”

My blush deepened. “No?” I stammered, my face absolutely burning.

That grin softened, and he reached out to stroke my hair. “Are you alright with breaking camp so I can go stretch my wings?”

I fought the urge to point out that there was no camp to break, and nodded, smiling tightly.

Rhys gave me a grateful nod, and murmured, “I love you, Feyre.” before striding out of the cave.

Shaking my head, I idled around the cave, kicking at the remains of the fire, and scattering the leaves of our makeshift bed around, and flopping down to lean against the wall. I stared at my hands, not really seeing them. What was going on? Why was he suddenly closed off? I thought back to everything that had happened last night, and couldn’t think of anything I had done to upset him. When we had fallen asleep, Rhys seemed happy. But now, he seemed more withdrawn. Almost anxious. Glancing up, I was surprised to find that nearly an hour had passed. I knew that the longer we stayed out, the harder it would be for Stella to cover for us.

I clambered to my feet, and made my way out to the front of the cave. Glancing around, I was surprised to find that I didn’t see Rhys anywhere. After a few minutes of looking around, I spotted him leaning against a large rock, turned partway away from me.

Slowly, I began meandering towards him.

Only when I was a few steps away did Rhys realize my presence. He jumped slightly, whirling to face me. “Feyre!” He exclaimed, quickly swiping several tears from his face. “Darling, what are you doing?”

My eyes lingered on the tear-tracks, glistening in the sun, debating whether or not I should ask. “I was just coming to tell you we should leave soon.” I didn’t ask why he had been crying.

When he turned to check on the position of the sun, I got a full view of him, the Prince of Darkness, and his glorious wings. Something in my chest snapped, and I thought something had ripped every last shred of oxygen from my being. One hand flew up to grasp at my throat, as the other lashed out wildly, trying to find something to brace myself on.

Rhys was instantly in front of me, hands on my shoulders to steady me, saying something. Trying to get my attention.

But I didn’t notice, didn’t see, didn’t hear, didn’t feel anything other than the word clanging through my very soul: Mate, mate, mate, he is your mate. He is your other half, your equal. He is your mate.

My breaths began to come faster and faster, in increasingly heavier pants, as I struggled to get any air.

Slowly, the world began to come back to me, as if everything I knew hadn’t been turned on its head. I focused on Rhysand, to find that he was cupping my face, trying to coax me to breathe. Looking at him, good god it hurt. It felt like he was simultaneously my destruction and my salvation. Everywhere he touched burned, burned with electricity coursing through my veins.

Somehow, I managed to hold up a hand, and somehow Rhys knew what I meant, taking a step back. I inhaled deeply, finally able to breathe. I clenched my eyes shut, trying to clear my head of the burning and roaring, and Rhys. Everything was Rhys, all I could see, smell, hear. I could taste him, my lips tingling with the phantom whispers of our most recent kiss. I blocked everything out, gulping down air as quickly as I could, until I felt close to normal again.

At last, I managed to look Rhys in the eyes without immediately feeling as if I was about to combust. “Y-you…you’re my mate.” I managed, the words feeling strange on my tongue.

Rhys only nodded, his forehead becoming beaded with sweat. “I know, Feyre. And you’re mine.”

Confusion lanced through me, and I pushed off the rock. “What do you mean ‘you know’?”

Then realization slammed in to me: He had been crying. Had… had that been related to this?

“Last night,” He answered quickly, “before we fell asleep, you said you loved me.”

So it had been related.

I nodded, remembering how he had reacted, and forced myself to meet his gaze. From the look in his eyes, Rhys looked as if he felt the same way I did, his eyes nearly glowing. I licked my lips. “What now?” I whispered. “What do we do?”

His eyes tracked that, darkening hungrily. He took a step forward, one hand bracing himself against the stone. Our chests pressed together, he pushed a strand of hair aside, and leaned down to murmur in my ear, “So, so many things to choose from, Darling.”

I gasped, one hand going to his shoulder, as his lips made contact with my neck. If I had thought his kisses last night were incredible, these...these were absolutely world ending. Every single part of me burned, yearning to feel more of him, touch more of him.

When he finally pulled back, I wasted no time in flipping us, mindful of his wings, and pinned him to the stone wall. I was pleased to find him blushing, that tan skin beautifully reddened. Giving him my best imitation of his smirk, he let out a whimper, eyes fluttering shut.

Then I kissed him, and the world exploded in stars.

I lost track of how long we kissed, and returned to my body to find that Rhys had buried his fingers in my hair. I pulled back, studying him. His pupils were blown wide, lips parted and swollen, blushing madly as he panted. Even though I likely looked much the same, I grinned, and attached my lips to the underside of his jaw. He let out a muffled groan, his head falling back against the stone. I continued working down his jaw, until I reached his ear.

Teasingly, I bit at the skin below to see how he would react. He moaned, that hand in my hair tugging, tugging, tugging. Then I moved to his wings, drawing a nail against it, or pressing sweet, fluttering kisses to the most sensitive parts. Rhys became putty in my hands, his eyes clenched shut as I worked him.

At last, we parted, and he stared me in the eyes, trying to convey so, so many things.

“What now?” I said, echoing my previous question.

That wicked smirk I loved so much finally returned. “I’ll tell you this, Darling.” He said, thumbs drawing sweetly back and forth on my sides. “There is no way in hell you’re marrying Tamlin.”

“No,” I agreed, smiling softly, “I’m not.”

“That’s because you’re marrying me.”

All those years, all those days, crashed into me. Feyre Darling. He had been trying to tell me… All those years, mating bond or no, he planned to marry me. Rhysand Darling, Feyre Darling. How had I never realized it? He had been hinting his feelings, his love. Over twenty years of murmured endearments, teasing declarations of adoration, and reassuring touches. It had all been real.

And so I looked up to him, my mind utterly clear, and murmured, “Yes I am, my darling Rhys.”

His eyes softened, and his lips parted. He smiled that sweet smile that was so utterly him, and kissed me tenderly, murmuring countless times, “I love you, I love you, my Darling Feyre, my mate, my world.”

Just like that, deep in the woods of a foreign kingdom, I was home.

“I love you, Rhys. More than anything.”

I had my mate, and that was all I needed.

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notalwaysthevillian · 5 years

Text

Heart Eyes and Headlines

Summary: Remy Sanders grew up famous. His father was an actor, and his dad was a rock star. Due to this, he ends up with a bodyguard for most of his life. After a brief stint without one, Remy decides to hire himself a new bodyguard. And this one is hot as hell.

Pairings: Romantic Remile, Prinxiety; Implied Romantic Moceit

Word Count: ~2.2k

Read the other fics by the other members of @thesquirtlesquadwrites (meaning @not-so-innocent-bi-sander and @nekoabiwrites) here!

Remy Sanders grew up having a lot of nice things. Despite this, his dads had made sure he was grateful for what he had. They had been overjoyed when he’d donated his presents to the local children’s hospital when he was ten.

Well, most of the presents.

But having two famous dads wasn’t all it was cracked up to be. Due to his father being an Oscar winning actor and his dad having won a few Grammys, Remy was thrust into the limelight more than he ever wanted to be.

Around the age of thirteen, the press had started trying to get close to him to get their information on his dads. It only took Remy throwing coffee at a camera once before Roman and Virgil opted to hire a bodyguard for their son.

Davy was an excellent bodyguard, and even better at lying to the press. He had a bit of a smaller stature, but that didn’t mean that he couldn’t take someone to the ground if he had to.

And he’d had to. A few times.

When Remy became a legal adult, his dads had sat him down, asking if he still wanted a bodyguard. Davy had met someone and was thinking about settling down, but was willing to watch over Remy for a few more years if necessary.

Remy had bid Davy adieu, but continued to keep in touch. Who wouldn’t when his husband was as sweet as can be?

The press occasionally hounded Remy, but for the most part had learned to back off. He couldn’t help but laugh when he heard a few paparazzi mention that Davy could be lurking around the corner.

His blissful bubble only lasted until his 24th birthday. He threw a big extravaganza, but managed to keep it a private party.

Somehow, someway, some press had gotten in. His party, and his drunken rants, had been broadcasted in the news cycle.

Mortified, Remy talked to his dads about a bodyguard again.

Which brought him to what he was currently doing. Sifting through various applications as he lazed on his couch.

“Let’s see…” he mumbled to himself as he flipped a paper over. “Emile Picani. 26 years old, no experience. But he did work as a therapist. Possibility.”

As he continued on with the applications, he couldn’t get the therapist out of his mind. It sure would be nice to have someone who’d listen to your problems, while also protecting you from your problems.

In the end, he ended up choosing one Mr. Emile Picani to become his bodyguard. He’d replied to the application with his acceptance, receiving a formally worded response back. They agreed to meet up at the local coffee place within the hour.

About ten minutes before he was supposed to be there, Remy grabbed his black leather jacket, calling, “I’m meeting my new bodyguard, be home soon!”

Barely hearing the goodbyes, he headed down in the elevator. Once he was in the lobby, he flipped his sunglasses on. It helped that they had a dual function - sun protection and camera protection.

Avoiding the paparazzi the best he could, and he’d gotten fairly good at it, he made his way into the back door of the coffee shop. The owners were wonderful, allowing him to use the employee entrance. He suspected it was because he tipped enough to keep this place running. But why wouldn’t he? They had fantastic coffee.

The owner, Logan, nodded at Remy as soon as he walked in. “Usual?”

“Yes please.”

Moving to sit at the agreed table, Remy sat so he could face the door. When Logan came over with his drink, he already had a fifty out. “Thanks, Lo.”

“You’re not usually here this late in the afternoon.” Logan commented as he wiped down a table nearby.

“Oh, I’m meeting my new bodyguard today.” Remy took a sip of the drink, reveling in the flavor. “This is perfect, Logan, thank you.”

“Isn’t it always?” He teased, before heading back behind the counter.

At four on the dot, the door opened. Remy’s eyes flicked to the man who’d walked in, looking him up and down immediately. This guy was hot as hell. He had to be about 6’4”, with the most muscled arms Remy had ever seen. How did someone make a Steven Universe shirt look that good?

Feeling the blush creep up his neck as the man headed in his direction, Remy quickly chugged the rest of his coffee.

“Did you need another one?” The man asked, hovering by the table. “I can grab one when I go get one for myself.”

“You don’t have to -”

Before Remy could protest further, the man grabbed the cup from his hand, giving him a smile. Remy tried not to think about the spark that had passed through their fingers when they’d brushed together as he watched the man walk up to the counter.

Once Logan had finished with the order, he shot a wink to Remy, who sank down in his seat. Why did this guy have to be so hot? It was hard enough hiding from the press in general, he couldn’t exactly walk down the street as...excited as he was.

“Here you go!” The man said, sliding the coffee across the table before holding out a hand. “Emile Picani, at your service.”

“Um, Remy Sanders, but you knew that.” Remy said, shaking Emile’s hand. It was super soft, this guy definitely used lotion. “So...I looked over your application and saw that you used to be a therapist. What changed?”

Emile took a sip of his drink. There was no way he didn’t see Remy’s eyes watching his mouth. “I stopped getting patients. For a while I had a steady clientele, but then people stopped liking my therapy style. I didn’t want to change who I was, so I figured it was time for a career change.”

“And you chose to be a bodyguard instead?”

“When I was going through my options, a friend of mine suggested it as a joke. But I thought it over and it made sense.” Emile’s eyes started to sparkle as he spoke. “I enjoy helping people in any way I can. Working out is a stress reliever for me, so I stay in great shape. And the paparazzi have always ticked me off a little, even though I’d never show it.”

Stashing his thoughts of ‘this man is perfect’, Remy leaned forward, resting elbow on the table and his chin in his hand. “You seem perfect for the job. But I am curious, are you a fan of either of my parents?”

“Oh, I’ve been following Roman’s career for years.” Emile finished off his drink. “Not in a stalker-y way, just in a generic fan way. And Virgil’s music is excellent, but it’s not really my style? My friend Remus enjoys it though.”

After talking for another hour, Remy’s phone went off.

Father: You coming home for dinner? Or did you get eaten by the press?

Rem: Be home soon!

“Are you cool with walking me back to the pent-the apartment?” Remy asked. “Obviously you’re welcome to stay for dinner if you want.”

“Sounds great.” Emile stood, grabbing their garbage and tossing it.

Rem: Set another place at the table.

Dad: On it

Remy lead Emile out the back of the coffee shop, before pointing down an alley. “This way.”

Almost as soon as they’d popped out of the alley, a few journalists descended on them.

“Remy! What can you tell us about Roman’s oscar nomination?”

“When is Virgil dropping his new album?”

The questions grew to a crescendo, before Emile stepped in front of Remy. His crossed arms, combined with the look on his face, made him look much more intimidating than the sweet guy Remy had just talked to for over an hour.

“Mr. Sanders is not taking any questions.” He said, his voice as cold as ice. “Please excuse us.”

Shockingly, a few of the journalists backed off. All except for Joshua, the lead reporter for Slander. While the others were distracted, he tried to move around Emile.

It didn’t go so well for him.

Before Remy could blink, Joshua was on the ground, his notebook knocked into a puddle. Emile raised an eyebrow, his hands fisted at his sides. “I said that he’s not taking any questions.”

Not giving Joshua a chance to get up, Emile nodded to Remy, who continued on down the sidewalk.

“That was incredible.” He whispered in awe when they were out of earshot.

Emile shrugged. “Part of the job, right?”

Dinner that night went swimmingly. Virgil and Roman found Emile to be an extremely polite man. When Remy told them what had happened, they’d nodded at each other, clearly approving the new bodyguard.

“I don’t know if anyone can beat Davy, but he’s a pretty close second.”

Over the next eight months, Remy really got to know Emile and vice versa. Davy hadn’t really talked much about his private life on the job, but Emile was a lot friendlier. Well, friendlier with Remy anyway. Joshua was now much less of a problem.

No, the problem now was Remy’s ever growing crush on his bodyguard.

The first time Emile leaned down to whisper in Remy’s ear, asking if he wanted to leave a party, Remy had to use all of his willpower to keep from melting on the spot. Emile hadn’t meant anything by it, but his hot breath against Remy’s ear was something Remy for sure wanted to feel again.

Whenever they went out, Emile went out of his way to open doors for Remy. It was such a simple gesture, but it was one that turned Remy’s insides to goo every single time.

In addition to his good looks and stunning personality, Emile was ripped as fuck. Remy knew that he had thick arms, but when he’d walked into the penthouse gym to find Emile working out with no shirt, the noise he made was inhuman. This was followed by him darting off to his room and screaming into a pillow.

After eight months, the two of them had started to be alone more often. At first, Remy hadn’t gone out as much, unsure of how Emile would react to his usual party lifestyle. But as he’d stopped partying, he realized he really didn’t enjoy it as much as he’d used to.

So he stopped partying all together.

Instead, he and Emile would go to places Remy had never been before. Once he’d found out that Emile had used cartoons in his therapy sessions, he dragged the man to a new art exhibit that features old cartoons in new styles. Emile’s smile had been comparable to a supernova that day, rather than its usual sunniness.

But, of course, the press had started to notice that Remy and Emile were hanging out more often.

“Um, Rem?” Roman had asked one morning, hiding a smile. “Care to explain this?”

He tossed an issue of Slander on the table. Remy groaned when he saw that it was a picture of him and Emile on the cover.

The headline was even worse.

Is Remy Sanders dating his bodyguard?

“We aren’t dating.” He hissed at the magazine, wishing he had laser vision like Roman had in his latest movie. “God, I wish Joshua would knock this shit off.”

“I dunno Rem,” Virgil said as he looked over his husband’s shoulder. “It kinda looks like you’re giving him heart eyes.”

Blood rushed to Remy’s cheeks in an instant. “I - I’m not -”

Roman merely raised an eyebrow, a twinkle in his eye. “You’re not? Because from what I’ve observed, you have a huge crush on him.”

Blushing even more, Remy stuffed the magazine in the trash and headed off to his room to get ready for the day.

Buried in his closet, for the first time, Remy heard Emile call his name. “In here!”

He felt Emile approach as he dug through his jackets. His heart was pounding a mile a minute. There was absolutely no way he didn’t see the headline.

“So, um...about what Joshua wrote.”

“God, I hate that guy.” Finally finding his favorite jacket, Remy yanked it off the hanger and pulled it on. “He should really mind his own business. So what if I have a crush on you?”

The words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop. The second he realized what he’d said, he buried his face in his hands, feeling his skin burn. “I’m so sorry, we can pretend I didn’t say that.”

“Why?”

Soft hands grabbed Remy’s wrists, gently uncovering his face. Emile looked into Remy’s eyes, his own cheeks a baby pink.

“What?”

“Why pretend you didn’t say that?” Emile leaned forward until their foreheads were touching. “I’m surprised you didn’t pick up on it by now, but I like you too.”

“You do?”

Emile nodded, his eyes darting down to Remy’s lips. “Mhmm.”

His heart bursting with joy, Remy surged forward, connecting their lips. He couldn’t wipe the smile off his face.

The next day, Slander had a new headline.

Remile confirmed!

#romantic remile #romantic prinxiety #romantic moceit #sanders sides #ts sleep #remy sanders #emile picani #virgil sanders #roman sanders #kissing #physical violence

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backtobackbakubabe · 5 years

Text

I’m Gonna Make This Place Your Home (Part 8)

Bakugo x Reader

words: 3010

Runaway reader finds a home with Bakugo. But will trouble follow?

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

You almost couldn’t see yourself with the amount of tears that were streaming down your cheeks. You saw the look on his face when he realized what you had done.

“NO! Y/n don’t do this!”

He stumbled around with his hands out trying to find you. Desperately swinging his arms around but they found nothing as you were pulled into Puppeteer’s embrace.

“Y/N! PLEASE! It doesn't have to be this way! Please give me my sight back! Please baby listen to me!”

Puppeteer’s grip tightened, “Isn't that adorable... the mighty ground zero.. begging.”

You wiped your tears and lifted your hand out as if to reach for him. You gave him his sight back, or at least you tried. But nothing was happening. “Bakugo I’m trying! But my quirk isn't working! I don't understand. Whats-”

Puppeteer snarled, “Oh come on now Y/n... You’re much smarter than that. I took the liberty of using your quirk for you. I thought I could trust you to do the right thing... apparently not!” He backhanded you across the face all while never letting go of your wrist.

You cried out in pain and Bakugo’s face snapped in your direction. He couldn’t see you but he could hear you. He lunged for you but Puppeteer was quicker. He threw his leg up and kicked Bakugo in the stomach, winding him and sending him to his knees.

You strained against Puppeteer’s hold, “Im so sorry Bakugo! I’m sorry! Please dont-”

Puppeteer cut you off, “I’m a man of my word. No harm will come to you and your friends... but the offer is void should you decide to look for us. I won't be so nice the next time we meet..”

Bakugo growled with rage, “I don’t fucking care what you do to me! I will come after you and I will fucking kill you! YOU FUCKING SHIT STAIN!”

Puppeteer struck Bakugo in the back of the head knocking him out cold as he dragged you out of the office. “Well good luck to you and your over sized ego.”

You tripped over yourself several times as you attempted to keep up with the tall man dragging you through the halls. You could faintly hear as the party was disrupted by what you could assume was the rest of the team. People started to scream and chaos followed. True to his word none of Puppeteers men attempted to fight back. Instead they had all left well before the heros even arrived. Sure they ended up selling out some of their clientele, but a small price to pay to have you back. His reach was long, he would sort all of it out later.

“Would you hurry up you silly girl! Dragging your feet won't help you.” He yanked hard causing you to almost run in order to keep up. He stormed up the stairs dragging you with him, you were sure you would be covered in bruises from his grip. When you finally got to the top he shoved you in the helicopter and shouted at the pilot to leave immediately.

He put on a pair of fancy looking headphones and passed you a pair as well. “I see that my mistake before was treating you more like an animal, like a pet to do my bidding. Things could be different this time around... if you behave.”

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

Bakugo woke up to someone shaking him and yelling, “Hey man wake up! What happened? Where’s Y/n?”

His eyes snapped open, “Shit Y/n! On the roof! He said he had a helicopter on the roof!” He tried to stand up but his head began to spin.

Kirishima gently pushed his back down, “Hey man you got a nasty looking head injury. I’ve already sent some people to the roof and they didn't find anything...”

Bakugo squeezed his eyes shut to prevent any traitor tears from slipping out and making him look weak in front of the other heros. “Then she’s gone... he took her and they’re gone...”

Kirishima sighed as he took a seat next to his distraught best friend, “Don’t worry man, we found them once and we’ll find them again. Y/n’s earrings have trackers in them. There’s still hope.”

Bakugo didn’t say anything. He just covered his face with his hands and let out a huge sigh. Everyone was smart enough to leave him alone for a while. He got checked out by some medics, and they bandaged his head for him. They advised he go home and get some rest but obviously that wasn't happening. He started to wander the halls of the fortress like house. There were so many rooms.. and a lot of them had bars and locks, much like cells. A chill went down his spine.

He turned a corner and stopped in his tracks... at the end of the hall was a girl. She was dirty and covered in a blanket. She was talking to a police officer and she... she looked like you.

He tried to keep himself from sprinting towards her. He didn’t want to spook her. The closer he got the more of you he saw in her features. Sure this girl looked to be a little taller. Her hair was much lighter than yours. But there was something about her eyes, they looked just like yours.

He approached her and knelt down, “I’m sorry to interrupt but you just... you look like someone I know. Can I talk to you for a minute.”

She nodded and stood up to take a walk with him.

As soon as they were out of earshot she yanked Bakugo into a room and shut the door. Baffled Bakugo pulled his hand from her grip, “Hey! What the hell?”

The strange girl looked him in the eyes, “Listen I don’t have much time to explain. You recognized me because I look like Y/n. Which makes complete sense considering I’m her older sister.” She put a hand up to him to stop him from talking, “I know you have questions but please wait until I’m finished, we're on a time crunch after all.”

He narrowed his eyes, “You have 5 minutes to explain what the fuck is going on and who you are.... we’re on a time crunch after all...”

She smirked and when she was satisfied with his compliance she continued. “My name is Ora. I’m a few years older than her and there’s no way she would remember me. I started showing signs of my quirk young just like she did. And I was sold to Puppeteer just like she was. I’m sure you found out about our parents but what you dont know is our mom works for Puppeteer. Her quirk is emotional manipulation. He finds people's quirks that he likes and he sends her out to basically trick them into loving her, having their children and then delivering them to him. She’s a sick, twisted, bitch.”

Her fists balled up and shook for a few seconds before she let go and continued, “Our dad was an honest man. His quirk was time travel. But he could only go up to 24 hours into the past at a time. He couldn’t move to the future, but he could always come back to the present. It took a lot of out him, so he only used it once a day. Every day he would read the paper, pick someone who died and go back and warn them. Well he ended up messing with Puppeteers affairs and it pissed him off.”

The girl began to pace now as her rant continued, “Puppeteer wanted to kill him but he also wanted his quirk. You see he collects quirks. He can use anyone’s quirk as long as they are alive and he has touched them within the last hour. He controls people like puppets. Hence the name. So he sent my mom after him and when they had me... well I was lucky enough to inherit his quirk. By the time I started showing signs of it though Y/N had already been born but she would have been too young to remember. They came for me and my dad died trying to protect me.”

Bakugo could see pain flash across her eyes. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m really sorry for all the shit you and Y/n have had to endure because of him. I would give anything to kill that fucker with my bare hands.”

Ora just sniffed, “I fucking hate puppeteer but he’s a smart fucker. Every time I try and take him down he’s always one step ahead. He’s been giving me quirk suppressing drugs for years. Keeping me here until he needs me. I can feel them wearing off now and as soon as they do... well I have this idea. It’s crazy and I need your help. I want to go back in time and save my dad. The only thing is.. I’ve never gone that far. Also I need to take you with me... and I've never done that before either...”

Bakugo blinked a few times before he scoffed, “That’s not even a plan! That’s just wishful thinking! We need a real plan... Right now we’re tracking her coordinates through a tracking device we put in her earrings. We are going to find her and I’m going to blow Puppeteers stupid head off his his stupid body. THAT’s a plan.”

Ora crossed her arms over her chest, “That’s the dumbest plan I’ve ever heard. Your plan is more unrealistic than mine. You’ll never get close enough to him. He has so many quirks at his disposal. He uses his goons like chess pieces. He plays with them like a video game. He left me here. So either someone fucked up and forgot to snag me on their way out, or the cocky bastard dosen’t see me as a threat anymore. Either way by now he knows I’m free and he’ll expect me, as I assume he'll expect you. Anything we do has to be very carefully thought out.”

“And you think doing something you’ve never done before in your life is careful thinking? It’s a suicide mission!”

“I think it’s worth a shot.... Look we can try it you way first if it’ll makes you feel better. I need time to recharge anyways. But I’m giving you 24 hours and then I’m doing it with or without you. I would rather you come. I think you're the only one strong and determined enough to take on Puppeteer. But if I have to do it myself I will.”

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

Puppeteer in his hurry to get you out didn’t think to check you for any bugs, or tracking devices. Once you were in the helicopter you took off your earrings. One you hid between the seats of the helicopter and the other you swallowed. It hurt like a bitch but you weren't taking any chances. Now all you could do was wait. Puppeteer obviously was keeping you from using your quirk. Hopefully they wouldn't drug you so you could try and reach out to Bakugo later. You were worried though because they weren't even attempting to hide where they were going. It was like Puppeteer wanted you to know. Was he setting a trap? Did he want you to tell Bakugo so he would walk right into the lions den?

Your thought were spiraling out of control and you could feel your breathing start to tighten as an anxiety attack was surely building.

“Relax dear Y/n.. I dont want to sedate you, but if you can't control yourself then I’ll have no choice. Like I said, I want this time to be different. But that’s only if I can trust you. It’s up to you how this plays out from here. You can live comfortably and go back to doing my bidding, or you can call out for help.”

His smirk grew evil as his heavy glare landed on you, “I have no problem killing your little boyfriend. And your punishment won't be pleasant either. I just need you alive to use your quirk... I dont need you awake. I could turn you into a comatose vegetable of a human and keep you strapped to a bed. Ready for me to come use your quirk as I wish. So if I were you... I’d think long and hard about what you do next.”

Your stomach dropped and you wanted to throw up. This man truly was evil.

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

Bakugo got Ora some clean clothes and brought her to meet the others. Kirishima was looking at a screen and rubbing his neck. “Hey man, so I got some good new and some bad news. Good news is the tracking devices are still working.... bad news is they aren't in the same location.”

Bakugo narrowed his eyes, “What? What do you mean?”

Kirishima turned the screen towards him and pointed at the two blinking red dots. “Both the earrings had trackers in them. It looks like one of them is on the move, and moving pretty quickly. The other has been at the same coordinates for about half an hour.”

Bakugo stared at the blinking dots. One of those dots was you. “So what do we do? How do we figure out which one’s her?”

Kirishima sighed, “It could honesty be either. There’s no way to know for sure. Either she’s the moving one and the other one was dropped and left behind. Or she's the stationary one and the other one is decoy. Our only option is to split up and check out both coordinates.”

“No...” Ora stepped up, “If you plan to take them on you need a united front. You cant afford to split up.”

Kirishima looked back and forth between Ora and Bakugo, “Who’s your friend?”

Bakugo rolled his eyes, “Long story, she’s Y/n’s sister and she's here to help. Ora this is Kirishima, he’s my partner.”

“And best friend, he always leaves that part out...”

Bakugo growled, “Now isn't the time for jokes shitty hair..”

Kirishima softened, “Right. Sorry. So do you think there’s any chance Y/N might be able to contact you tonight? It’d be the easiest way to narrow down with one of these dots is her.”

Bakugo shrugged, “I wouldn’t say it’s likely, but she did say that last time she found a way to fight through the drugs to reach out to me. Maybe she could do it again.”

Kirishima nodded, “Let’s hope so. I say we take the night to regroup and make a plan. You need to go to sleep and see if she reaches out. We’ll make our final decisions in the morning.”

As soon as Kirishima walked away Ora nudged Bakugo, “You know this is a stupid plan right? We’re waisting time. There’s no way Puppeteer would let her give away their location.”

Bakugo grunted, “Listen we just met like an hour ago and all you’ve done is annoy the shit out of me and question my intelligence. If you weren’t Y/n’s sister I would have told you to fuck off already. Now lets go get a hotel room and get some sleep. You may think it’s a long shot but I want to be ready in case your strong, more than capable, bad ass sister, finds a way to reach me.”

Ora’s eyes remained fixed on Bakugo’s like she was an adult talking to a stubborn child. “Whatever you say, but when I said 24 hours I meant 24 hours. You have until tomorrow afternoon. Let’s go.”

They entered the hotel room and Ora immediately flopped on one of the beds and picked up the remote to the tv. Bakugo took a seat on the end of his own bead and cleared his thought, “Not to sound mean or anything but... how are you so normal?”

Ora put down the remote and gave him a weird look, “What do you mean how am I normal?”

Bakugo blushed a little, “Well I mean you and Y/N went through the same thing but when she found me... well it was like she had been shut in a room her whole life. You just seem like, I don’t know... normal.”

Realization flashed in Ora’s eyes, “Oh... Well from what I understand when Y/n got out it was the first and only time she had ever escaped. I on the other hand escaped a lot. I would be out for months sometimes before they’d find me and drag me back. My escaping so much is probably what made it so hard for Y/n.”

Bakugo nodded sadly, “Okay one more question and then I’ll leave you alone and go to bed.... When you saw me today.. you immediately knew who I was and already had a plan ,if that's even what you want to call it, that included me.... how?”

Ora threw her head back on her pillow. “I've never told anyone this so this stays between us... I may not be able to time travel to the future... but sometimes in my dreams I can see it. Its hard to tell though because sometimes they come to pass and sometimes they were just dreams. They helped me escape several times when I was younger. The only thing about you is... Well I had a dream once years ago. I had no idea who you were then but there you were. We were back to the day my dad died and everything went to shit. I don’t know what happens, but I know its possible for us to get there. I tired finding you every time I got out. Once I did.. but you were at UA then and I was too scared to tell you. Time is a very sensitive thing. You cant meddle with it too much. Things need to happen as naturally as they can. So years later Y/N found you and now here we are. It’s fait.”

Bakugo’s head was spinning. This girl had unloaded so much on him today. He didn’t think he could take anymore or he would explode. “Thank’s for being honest with me, and thank you for at least trying to do things my way. If the time comes and we need plan B. I won't fight you on it.”

Ora sighed in relief, “Thank you Bakugo... honestly.” A tear slipped out the corner of her eye, “The thought of getting my dad back and having my life go back to normal... its all I’ve ever wanted. For Y/n as well...”

Bakugo just nodded, too emotional to respond. He turned over and closed his eyes. Please Y/n... please be there waiting for me.

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

You tossed and turned in you comfortable bed. You were exhausted but you were terrified to fall asleep. Puppeteer had been so nice to you so far. Giving you clean clothes, feeding you, you even had a nice room with a huge bed. All he asked for in return was your cooperation. Would it be so bad? If it meant Bakugo lived...

You couldn't stay awake forever and as soon as you fell asleep you felt your dreams morph into something else. All the sudden there he was, Bakugo. He ran to you and wrapped he arms around you. You hadn't done this. You hadn't brought him here. That could only mean Puppeteer did this. Not only was he letting you reach out to Bakugo, he was forcing you to... He was testing you.

“Y/n! Shit are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you?” He held your face in between his hands and rubbed his thumb over your cheek. “We may not have much time so I need you to help me out here. Your earrings. They had trackers in them but they went in two different directions. One stopped and the other kept moving. Which one is you?!”

You gulped. This is it. You had to make a decision. Tell him where you are and risk ruining everything... or lie and save his life. You leaned forward and planted a passionate kiss on his lips. “I’m the one that kept moving. Puppeteer found the first one and threw it from the helicopter. The second one I swallowed.”

Bakugo kissed your forehead, “You’re a fucking genius! I’m going to find you I swear!”

A tear slipped down your cheek, “I love you...”

Bakugo wiped away the tear quickly, “Hey dont say it like that. Like this is goodbye. I love you too Y/n and it’s because I love you that I won't rest until I get you back. I have help. I found your s-”

A loud clapping noise rang out in the dream.

Bakugo looked around, “What’s that?”

You shook your head, “Sorry Bakugo. Somethings waking me up.”

You gripped you tighter, “No wait!”

You sat up straight in you bed to find Puppeteer sitting in the dark corner of your bedroom clapping. “Well my dear. It seems you passed my little test and gave him the wrong coordinates. It’s a shame though... you still betrayed my trust by swallowing that tracking device...

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

Bakugo bolted upright breathing heavy and sweating. Ora rubbed her eyes as she turned on the bedside lamp. “What happened? Did you see her?”

He nodded, “Yeah...”

“Did you ask where she was?”

Again he nodded, looking angry this time, “Yeah.... and I think she lied to me.”

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

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shewillreadyou · 4 years

Text

Becoming: Chapter 11- A woman’s worth

As always. I hope that you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing.

A/N: Will Karis break under Madeleine’s pressure?

Disclaimers: All characters are property of Pixelberry

Warnings: Language, sexual content, tw character death

Catch up: Becoming

Word Count:2638

Pairings: Liam x MC (Karis Vasquez

Song inspiration: A woman’s worth- Alicia Keys

Be Kind: Hit the heart button, leave a comment or reblog. It makes a writer so so happy.

“Excuse me, may I have this dance?”

“Raymond, wow of course, well if it’s okay with you Liam?”

Liam smiles but it does not reach his eyes.

“Of course. I’ll catch up with you soon,” he says as he heads towards Rashad.

On the dance floor

“Karis, you look…damn.”

She blushes furiously but her blush quickly fades.

“Raymond, you look great too. But what are you doing here?”

Raymond looks around to see who is within earshot. He pulls her close and speaks in a low voice in her ear as Liam eyes him from across the room.

“Are you ok? Just squeeze me if you are not. I got a phone call from some chick named–”

“Let me guess, Madeleine?”

“Yeah, she wants you out of the way. She asked me what was going on between the two of us. I told her that we were colleagues. She insisted that I come here tonight as her plus one and talk you into going back with me. I was about to hang up the phone on her when I realized that you might be in danger.”

“Really? You are just as bad as Liam? You flew here to save me? Well thank you but I’m fine, really.”

“Kar, these people don’t want you here. They were willing to fly me here, on the off chance that I could talk you into leaving. Is this really the life that you want? Come back to Paris with me. You can finish school, go to law school and come work at the firm. You don’t have to have drama for the sake of love. Come back with me tomorrow, I can’t offer you a palace but once your internship is up my flat is yours.”

“Raymond, you’re sweet. Clueless but sweet. I don’t care about living in a palace, or whether Madeleine wants me here or if my relationship looks like drama to you. All I want, all I ever wanted was Liam. So, I’m sorry you wasted your time coming here, but if you would do me a favor, go tell Maddie, that she can go to hell.”

At the head table

Liam approaches Rashad with fire in his eyes. “I want answers. Why is he here?”

“Why is who here, Li?”

“Raymond Perry!”

“You mean Madeleine’s plus one? I have no idea? Do you know him?”

“Yeah, we’ve met. He’s Karis’ co worker.”

“Wait, he’s that Raymond? And you let him dance with her?”

“Yes, because I didn’t want to cause a scene and I trust her.”

Karis saunters up to Liam, her expression is unreadable.

“Rashad, Russell, thank you both so much for your hospitality. This has all been lovely. I look forward to seeing you both soon. Liam, a word?” she said calmly.

“Sure angel.”

“Can we go now? I can not be sure I won’t embarrass you if I run into Madeleine.”

“Absolutely. I’ll say a few goodbye’s.” He makes the rounds and instructs his guard to escort Karis to the car.”

While she is waiting for Adonis, the door to the car opens and Madeleine gets in and closes the door.

“Madeleine.” Karis never even looks at her.

“You know Karis, I have tried being nice to you. I even flew your little boyfriend here to talk some sense into you to no avail. There is no reasoning with you. What would Liam think if his little miss perfect was caught in a compromising position with her boyfriend?”

“Oh, you think i’m perfect? Liam knows better. Besides, I have never been in a compromising position with Raymond or anyone else for that matter. And you know Madeleine, I could say the same for you. You are impossible. No wonder Leo left you for some random girl he met on a cruise. You want Liam?” She turned to stare at her with an icy gaze.

“Take him from me.”

Just then there is a knock on the window. Madeleine opened the door to find a livid Olivia standing in the breezy night.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing Maddie? Liam is going to flip his shit. Is this what you think is going to win him over? What did you do, threaten her? Give it up. She isn’t afraid of you?”

She pulls Madeleine out of the car by her arm and the two of them head back into the estate arguing quietly. Moments later Liam joins her and they head back to his apartment. The moment the car starts to move Liam reaches for her hand and she begins to sob uncontrollably.

“Whoa, Karis. What’s this about?” He slid closer to her on the seat and wrapped his arms around her as she sobbed on his chest.

She was so overwhelmed with emotion she could not get out a coherent sentence. When they arrived a short time later at his apartment, he held her close carrying a great deal of her body weight as they entered the elevator. When they made it inside, he helped her settle on the couch and got her a box of tissues and a glass of water.

He sat next to her rubbing soothing circles on her back. When she was finally calm enough to speak, she took several cleansing breaths and turned to Liam.

“I didn’t come to Cordonia to be arrested for murder. Keep Madeleine away from me Adonis.”

“What did she do? Is this about Raymond?”

“No, it’s about you. It’s about the crown. She is relentless. Raymond was just a pawn. She doesn’t have an issue with me, outside of I am in her way. She sent for him thinking that he could talk me into leaving tonight with him and when that didn’t work, she threatened to blackmail me.”

Liam’s mouth falls open, he wipes her tears.

“I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. I will handle it. Promise.”

He kissed her lips sweetly and they settled into a comfortable silence.

“So, it’s still early. What else did you have planned for tonight?”

“It’s funny that you asked. I’ll be right back.”

Liam disappears onto the terrace and is gone a few minutes before he comes strolling casually back into the living area with a devilish smirk on his face.

“What are you up to?”

“Oh, nothing dear.”

“You’re lying, but ok. Have you checked on your Dad today?”

“Yes, he is stable. But they still aren’t releasing him.”

“I was thinking we should get up early tomorrow and go see him. Maybe take him a decent cup of coffee and a heart healthy breakfast.”

Liam stares off in the distance, lost in thought.

“You have to forgive him, you know.”

“Huh?” Her words snatch him from his reverie.

“Not for him. For you.”

He nodded his head, still not focused on her.

“Earth to Adonis!”

“I’m here. I’ve never had anyone I’ve wanted so badly to please.”

“Most people want to please their parents.”

“Not him.” he finally focuses, looking at her with adoration.

She looks confused.

“You.”

“Me?” she looks puzzled.

“Yes, you. Have I told you how incredible you are today?”

“Nah, but i’m listening.”

“After the day you’ve had, you’re still thinking about me.”

“Of course I am.”

“You are discerning, and sincere, and quick-witted, and courageous, and diligent, and capable,” he dotes on her as he peppers her neck with kisses. She squeals with a smile from ear to ear.

He picks her up, throwing her over his shoulder and smacks her ass.

“Where are we going?” she giggles.

“You’ll see. Patience my queen.”

When they stopped out on the terrace he sat her down they were met with a large hot tub with candles lit all around.

“Did you do this for me?”

“Yeah, I did. I wanted it to be romantic. Is it cheesy?”

“No, it’s sweet. But aren’t we a little over dressed?”

Before she could get the words out he had shrugged out of his suit coat and was reaching for the zipper of her dress. When it pooled at her ankles she stepped out of it and he held her hand helping her into the steamy water of the hot tub.

“OMG, it’s amazing!”

He looks at her and slowly takes his clothes off piece by piece until he is standing in only his boxer briefs.

“You know, It’s not nice to tease, your majesty.”

He joins her in the water and shivers as his body adjusted to the temperature. He sat on one of the underwater benches and pulled her on to his lap. She straddled him and he gazed into her eyes for what felt like an eternity. She poured them both a glass of champagne.

“What?”

“I was just thinking…What does love mean to you, Karis?”

“Love is…sacrifice, dedication, loyalty, compromising, and commitment.

“All important to making a relationship work.”

“What does it mean to you?”

“You know it’s funny. I never even gave it any real thought before I met you. I certainly wasn’t raised to have any expectation of romance in my life.”

“That’s funny coming from you. You are incredibly romantic.”

“You think so?”

“I do. Now, answer my question.”

“Hmm, love is patient, honest, kind, protecting, giving, thoughtful and trusting. I have never known love in this sense until I met you. I knew that I loved you the morning I left your apartment back in New York for the airport.”

“Really? Day one?”

“Absolutely. You didn’t feel it?”

“I clearly felt a strong connection. I don’t think it was love. But it was something. That’s probably why I was so hurt.”

“When I found out what Madeleine did, I knew that her character was not one of a queen. Leo tried to warn me to keep an eye on her. Let me ask you this, when did you know?”

“I knew the moment I smelled your cologne in Paris. It was like every bit of logic went out the window. My emotions came storming back in, like a flood. I was hurt. But longed for you, I craved you, I missed you.”

She tried to blink away the tears but, alas it was in vain.

‘No, no crying right now. We are being romantic.”

She smiled.

“That’s what I want to see. Let’s talk about something else. I know we briefly talked about it and you said that you wanted kids and I know my father mentioned it, but… How many kids do you think you want?” he asked as he sipped his champagne.

She takes a moment to consider her answer.

“I dunno, maybe 7 or 8,” she said casually.

He spit out his champagne.

“How many kids?”

She smirked. “Your father did say that heirs equal stability.

“Clearly you intend to be very stable.”

She takes his glass from his hand, and places both glasses carefully on the side of the hot tub. She turned to him and clasped her hands behind his neck.

“I don’t have a set number of children I want. I will be happy with whatever number of children we have.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and she kissed him sweetly.

“Does it freak you out at all that this time next year we could be married and expecting our first child?”

“Only slightly. Definitely not as much as I expected it to freak me out.”

He kisses her again. This time it was urgent and deep. His hands traced her curves and found the clasp to her bra. It plopped into the water and floated at the top as his mouth moved openly down her pulse line. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

His tongue teased her collarbone before he took her perky breast into his mouth. His tongue flicked her nipple while his hand gently massaged the other. The water lapped around them as she grinded on his lap. He lifted his hips and slid his boxers off freeing his hardened length. She took him in her hand stroking him as he groaned in pleasure.

He lifted her by the waist to stand on the bench. He pulled her black lace thong to the side as his mouth found her center. Her knees buckled and his strong arm circled her waist pulling her closer and supporting her at the same time. “Je veux seulement te plaire.”

“Adonis!” she screamed his name as she rubbed his bald head. When she was starting to come undone he pulled away with a smirk.

“You are teasing me again,” she said slightly shivering.

He pulled her back down into the warm water and wrapped his arms around her.

“I’m not teasing. I need to be inside of you,” he says as she straddles him again.

She reaches for him guiding him to her entrance. She took in a sharp breath as she stretched around him. Her eyes widened at the sensation.

“Go slow. We have all night.”

“Like I have a choice.”

“God, you feel incredible. It’s so tight.”

“You feel large.”

“Sorry.” He grinned sheepishly.

“Don’t be,” she said as she picked up the pace.

He lifted his hips, winding them slowly at first, then rolling them thrusting harder.

“Am I hurting you?”

“No.”

“Well, stop running from this dick.”

“Oh my god. Adonis, I can’t!” she moaned.

“Yes you can. Take it,” he said as he began thrusting like a jack hammer.

She wrapped her arms around him tightly and began contracting around him as she plunged up and down on his length.

“I’m, I’m soooo close. Give me every inch of you.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, please love.”

“If you insist..”

Her once straight hair was now dark and curly from the way the water was splashing, just how he liked it.

He tangled his hands in her dark wet curls exposing her neck. He didn’t know if it was the way the moon was glowing against her caramel skin or the way the water beaded up as she bobbed up and down out of the water, but he couldn’t have been more turned on. He thrusted into her completely filling her. Her eyes went wide.

“Take it. Take this dick.”

She was sure she felt it in her stomach. After a few more powerful thrusts they fell over the edge together. He carried her bridal style to bed where slumber found them both quickly.

The next morning they arose early to visit with Constantine before they got their day started. Karis had made breakfast and snuck it into Constantine, in her purse. She also had a canteen full of his favorite dark roast coffee.

“She is thoughtful, smart, beautiful, fearless and can cook. Keep this one Liam.”

“That’s the plan, father.”

“Thank you, sir. You flatter me. Adonis, I’m going to give you two sometime alone.”

A few moments later, Liam joins her in the waiting area where she is chatting with Kenyon, the guard charged with looking after her while she was visiting.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, nurse Emily is in with him. I told him I would come back when she was done. Karis, what do I say to him?” he asked, his eyes threatening to spill tears he had been holding a lifetime.

“Keep it simple. Tell him that you love him. That you forgive him and that you hope that you have made him proud. Remember, this is for you.”

She gives him a hug and whispers, “I’m so proud of you,” in his ear as she squeezes him tight, before he heads back in to chat with his father.

About thirty minutes later, Karis was sitting checking social media when there was an announcement on the intercom.

Tagging:

@txemrn

@pixie88

@khoicesbyk

@blackkingliamstan

@mom2000aggie

@shannonwrote

@shanzay44

@bbrandy2002

@hopelessromanticmonie

@fanjessfic

@dcbbw

@lucy-268

@choiceslady

@twinkleallnight

@blackkingliamstan

@bebepac

@shanzay44

@mainstreetreader

@romereadingshop

@romewritingshop

@lem-20

@texaskitten30

@maurine07

@queenjilian

@secretaryunpaid

#trr #trr au fanfic #choices fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #king liam #adonis x karis #Meet Karis #king of cordonia #the royal romance #shewillreadyou #kim reads #kim writes #kim reblogs #follow shewillreadyou

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feverwritingandtextposts · 5 years

Text

12pm, Saturday, Shinjuku Station

This was also posted on ao3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21695521

"Tomorrow!" Rengoku all but shouts by way of greeting. You turn to him, trying to look less shocked than you felt. Around you, the milling students show signs at having jolted at the history teacher's boisterous voice.

The late afternoon light streaming in through the corridor window bathes Rengoku in a deep gold that only strives to make him look even larger than life. The man himself was wearing his signature manic grin, sonic eyes focused on you.

He looked oddly out of place in the quiet school corridor, too vibrant for the tired air of students dragging their feet home from supplementary classes.

Before you are given the chance to answer, he continues. "Meet me at Shinjuku station! At 12pm! See you there!" Apparently having said his piece, he strides off past you, neither waiting for your response, nor looking back even once.

You watch him power walk away, stopping only to greet the students who call out to him as he goes.

What.

After standing there for long enough for your shocked brain to catch up with the rest of your limbs, you headed down the hallway after Rengoku. Upon reaching the staff room, you learn from a suspiciously animated Uzui that the man had already gone home. Resigning yourself to what seemed to be the inevitable push of Rengoku-induced fate, you gathered up your own things and headed home.

Perhaps this was normal Rengoku behaviour. You had absolutely no yard stick to compare him to, considering you have never met anyone like him before. For a moment, you considered not going.

But then again, you didn't have anything to do tomorrow in any case.

And then again, you didn't have his number so it not like you could have called him to cancel.

Tomorrow brought with it the blinding sun of noontime, and Rengoku Kyoujurou's equally blinding grin, easily recognisable even in the crowded rush of Shinjuku station commuters. Wrapped up in a large, conspicuous red coat, the starched collar of a dress shirt peaks through the neckline. Spotting you immediately as you emerge through the gantry, he strides towards you on glossy oxfords. You feel, all at once, significantly under dressed.

"You look great!" Rengoku booms at you once he considered you significantly within earshot. You were in jeans and sneakers, but you appreciated the polite sentiment anyway.

It was only when you were leaving the house an hour ago that you realised that you had no idea what Rengoku even needed you on a weekend for. You had no idea what to wear, so you had just been hoping it was perhaps a relaxed faculty lunch or an extra tutoring session for any stray failing students, and decided that what you had on would do. Now though, you weren't so sure.

You attempted to glance past him, but Rengoku's wide shoulders and even wider smile seemed to block everyone else from sight.

"You look nice as well," you say, gesturing to his prim ensemble. Rengoku smiles, if possible, even wider. "Thank you! Lets be off!" Turning sharply on his heel, he walks off into the crowd, leaving you to hurry after him, just as before, not once turning back at you.

"Where are the rest?" you ask, finally managing to elbow your way through the crowd to his side as he paused at a stoplight.

Rengoku turns to look down at you, tilting his head unlike a puppy. If, puppies could look so strangely intimidating.

"What rest? It's just us today!"

You blink at him as he begins to walk again, long legs carrying him farther and farther from you as you continued to hurry along. As you got closer, you realised he was talking, and had likely been talking for a while now.

"-And so I think it will be best if we hurry, as then we will be able to see all the fish, AND the penguin show!"

Fish? Penguin show? Hesitantly you asked again, "Rengoku-san... Where are we going?"

"The aquarium! Of course!"

Of course.

Rengoku Kyoujirou tells no lies, and certainly not enough base info, because you soon find yourself within the comforting dim lights of the aquarium's lobby, staring at the whale diorama hanging from the ceiling.

Why on earth did he drag you to the aquarium out of all places? You taught literature for heaven's sakes. Was he going to practice a lecture on the history of Japan's rising sea levels on you?

You heard that the school was planning a learning journey for the students soon, perhaps this was just the recce trip. You didn't find yourself much a fan of fish of any size or shape, thinking the expanse of water a bit overwhelming, and the traumatic memory of watching Jaws when you were only 7 leaving you with mild apprehension for live sea life in any proximity to you.

You said nothing of this to Rengoku, who seemed enthralled at the idea of staring at deep sea eels through twenty meter thick walls of glass, informing you (against your will) about nearly each and every specimen of creature housed in the aquarium. He was so pumped, he waived away your concern of paying him back for your ticket, with a laugh so booming you were sure he startled away a few fish (and some concerned parents).

At exactly 1:50pm, Rengoku straightened from where he had crouched down over the starfish tank, yelling mostly in the direction of the water about the creature's unique ability to regrow limbs "just like a demon!" (you never heard of mythical demons growing back limbs but thought it better than to ask).

"Let's go! The penguin show will start soon!"

The two of you managed to secure a good spot before the crowd started streaming in, thanks to Rengoku's timely actions. The penguins turned out to be absolutely adorable, easily bumping them up to the most enjoyable part of your trip.

Rengoku was unexpectedly quiet as you rambled on, happily recounting to him your favourite parts of the show, as you two followed the crowd out, with just enough timely grunts of approval to let you know he was listening.

As your excitement over the penguins died down, the two of you lapsed into a contemplative silence. You, wondering if its feasible to teach your pet crow similar tricks to the penguins, and him, wondering about whatever it is Rengoku thinks about.

Probably more fish facts.

The silence is broken far too quickly, with him declaring that the two of you should go get lunch. Agreeing readily enough, Rengoku leads you straight out of the aquarium, to your surprise. You had expected him to want to grab something quick at the aquarium's cafe.

Instead, he leads you to a quaint looking restaurant, still bustling with activity despite the late hour for lunch. The restaurant seemed to be populated with couples and groups of fashionable teenage girls, who fit in nicely with the flowery, delicate decor.

Rengoku sits ramrod straight in his ornate chair, ostentatious with his wild hair, red coat (still fully buttoned up), and shiny shoes, yet strangely he did not seem at odds with the gentle atmosphere of the restaurant.

"Do you come here often?" you ask, curious after listening to him recite a practiced order to the waiter.

"No! This is my first time here!" he beams at you.

"You seem familiar with the menu."

"I researched it! I heard this restaurant was popular with young women! I thought you might like it!"

You blink at him, surprised. You were touched at the gesture, and told him as much.

To your continued surprise, Rengoku does not throw you his signature shouted 'thank you!', but instead by way of response, gives you a pleased, serene, closed eye smile, that looked absolutely radiant on his handsome face. Compared to all his wild smiles before, this tugs at your heartstrings in a way that fills your cheeks with an embarrassing blush.

That moment of peace can only last so long. As the waiter returned with your individual meals, so did Rengoku's overwhelming enthusiasm.

"Delicious!" He exclaims, at full volume, completely ignorant of the scandalised stares the other patrons send him.

You hid your amused smile behind your spoon as you ate, trying to ignore the stares as well as he did. The food really was delicious.

Rengoku once again, waves away your attempts to pay, with the compromise that you can pay for the movie later.

Wait. Movie?

And so you went, to an afternoon screening of a newly released horror movie that Rengoku apparently, had booked seats for before. Was he planning to bring the students to the movie as part of the learning journey? You weren't even sure the kids were old enough to see it. Perhaps he's just a horror movie fanatic and wanted someone to watch the show with.

Not wanting to seem like a spoilsport but also not particularly enjoying movies like these, you went along with it quietly, paying for the tickets and buying a large bucket of popcorn for the both of you to share.

You both spend the movie sandwiched on either side between people in the packed theater. Rengoku watched the movie with studious intensity, while you stared at his profile, the popcorn, and the screen (between your fingers). Every so often Rengoku would lean in close to ask you if you were scared, and if you were doing okay, and if you needed him to explain a part of the plot you were studiously ignoring. He was using what he possibly supposes to be a whisper, although it could barely pass for a usual person's speaking volume, and was regularly and aggressively shushed by the people seating close by them.

Worried he wouldn't be able to hear your response from the screams of the actors on screen, you just shook your head or nodded in time to his questions, resorting to patting his arm to reassure him of your comfort, preferring not to reveal to him how scared you were of the movie.

Somehow you had expected to hate the movie more than you actually did. You actually spent most of it amused by Rengoku's undeterred 'whispers' and the subsequent low voiced shushes by the rest of the agitated audience. It certainly shaved off a lot of the possible tension. He also managed to get the plot of the movie completely skewed in the moments he attempted to recount it to you, and it only served to make the situation more amusing.

Rengoku offered to treat you to dessert in return for the movie, seeming to conveniently forget the entire point of you paying for the movie in the first place. At this point, you have gotten used to his steamroller personality and let him drag you to his dessert stall of choice.

Seated at a brightly lit shaved ice cafe, you watch as Rengoku carries over what looked like half the store's entire stock of shaved ice, piled high in a bowl that required both his hands to carry. The myriad of fruits and assorted cookies glittered adorning the dessert wriggled precariously as he sets it down in front of you. You had to lean to your side to even see Rengoku past the towering ice monstrosity.

Handing you a spoon, the man himself grins, manic, turning his gaze to his latest conquest.

"Lets dig in!"

You weren't even sure where all the food went.

Rengoku had just eaten a huge lunch at the restaurant not two hours ago, polished off most of the popcorn you bought (before the commercials even ended), and now was pretty much single handedly finishing off the giant bowl of shaved ice.

You had tapped out long ago, only managing to chew your way through less than a quarter of the thing, barely even making much of a dent in the now overflowing fruits and cookies. Even now, you couldnt rid yourself of the cloying sweet taste of the treats from your mouth.

Rengoku was undeterred by your lack of enthusiasm, shoveling large quantities of ice and fruit into his mouth in between exclamations of its deliciousness. You watched him in a mixture of awe and amusement at his battle with the dessert. You were actually a bit shocked that they sold an item so big at this store.

"Please! Have some more!" Rengoku implores you, speaking around the mixture of melting ice and syrup in his mouth.

You shake your head sheepishly in response. "That's alright, I'm already quite full."

Rengoku pauses his spoon for a second, considering you seriously, and the intensity of his gaze makes you squirm. Before you can say anything to fill the sudden silence, he gives an affirmative "HM!" and continues speed eating before the ice fully melts.

You two pass the rest of the time in silence, save for Rengoku's loud chewing. For you, this is normal. For him, it seems, not so much. You fret silently in your seat, wondering if you've offended him somehow. He did intend to treat you. Perhaps he felt annoyed that you didn't seem to appreciate the dessert?

The silence continued as the two of you walk out of the cafe, broken only by Rengoku telling you that since it's getting rather dark, he would walk you home. Touched by the gentlemanly gesture and horrified at this new, quiet Rengoku, you give him an uncharacteristically cheerful agreement, and get a sharp nod in return.

You avoid looking at your phone on the train ride back, unwilling to offend him further, even though you could feel his intense gaze trained on you. A few times, he opens his mouth, as if to speak, and you turn to him quickly, as if to hear, but he only takes a deep breath and says nothing, mouth shutting with a clack.

Your anxiety was at an all time high by the time the both of you reached the quiet street that lead up to your apartment block. You wondered how you were going to work together when you had somehow made even your most amicable mad at you. You also wondered if he managed to fulfill... Whatever it is he had set out to do today. In the end you got too caught up to the flow of it to ask, and he never said anything himself.

You turn to him, swinging your hands nervously. "We're here. Thank you for walking me back."

Rengoku shoots you one of his signature smiles, although it seems a bit strained. "No problem!"

You take a step back, intending to leave, and Rengoku follows with a step towards you. Another step back, he takes another step forward.

".... Well... See ya on Monday I guess? Thanks for today."

That seems to jolt him out of his reverie. "Ah! Yes, thank you! I enjoyed today very much!" he exclaims, at full volume, booming even louder in the quiet night.

You can't help but smile in return, feeling that the day's activities have made you rather taken with his idiosyncrasies. Even if you had no idea what the entire point of the outing was, you realised you had a surprising amount of fun. It was the first time you've been to an aquarium in years, and you certainly would never have watched that movie or eaten that dessert on your own accord. It's refreshing.

Rengoku takes another step towards you, and you're now close enough to see the fog of his breath. If you reach out, you can feel the material of his fancy red coat. He opens his mouth as if to say something, and gapes at you for a moment, before swooping down, and scooping you in a gentle hug.

You barely have time to process the warmth of his body around you before he leans back quickly, holding his arms rigid at his side.

"WELL THEN!" Rengoku shouts, shouting somehow even louder than before. "GOODNIGHT!"

Turning on his heel, he makes as if to stride away, but this time you're ready for it. Your arm shoots out, grabbing a fistful of his coat, and he stops immediately, one foot still hanging in the air.

"What- What was that?" you ask, confusion and shock melding together to irritation.

Rengoku turns, slowly, and when he faces you, you can tell that he's blushing all the way to his hairline, face dyed nearly the same shade as his coat. Immediately, he dips into a low bow, ponytail flopping with the movement.

"I'M VERY SORRY!"

You scratch your cheek awkwardly at the display. "It's okay, I'm not mad I'm just... Confused. Do you hug everyone after spending the day with them?"

Still bent at the waist, staring at the floor, Rengoku shouts into the pavement. "NO! I'M SORRY! I WAS SUPPOSED TO GO IN FOR A KISS BUT I... IM NOT STRONG ENOUGH! FORGIVE ME!"

You open your mouth, and close it, and open it again.

Sorry? Did you hear that right? Kiss? Who? You? Him? Kiss you?

Very distantly you hear yourself ask, "Why were you trying to kiss me?"

Rengoku peeks up at you from his bow. "Uzui-san told me that kissing you was the only appropriate way to end a date."

Uzui? Date?

"He..." You began, before switching tactics, knowing that anything involving advice from Uzui was sure to end up a shit storm. "This is a date?"

Rengoku straightens up slowly from his bow peering at you with his closest possible approximation towards nervousness. "Yes, it is!" At your lack of response he continues, "I have never been on a date before, so I asked Uzui-san for help! He seems very knowledgeable on the subject! He suggested I take you to the aquarium as it is a staple for dates! He told me of the restaurant to bring you to! He also suggested the movie!"

Rengoku paused, as if to gauge your reaction, but at your totally shocked to stone state, he continues on himself.

"I thoroughly researched the timings and sea life so I could show you the best of the aquarium while we were there! I also checked out reviews of the restaurant and their menu to make sure there would be items you would like there! I picked out the dessert because it had all of the fruits and cookies that I know you liked!"

"I... I just wanted you to have a good time," he finishes off, voice going uncharacteristically soft.

Now finished with his tirade he looks at you expectantly, eyes as intense as ever. Completely bombarded by the rush of information, you scramble to scrounge up a response.

"Why didn't you tell me it was a date?"

He does his puppy-esque head tilt. "Uzui-san says you would definitely know, as aquariums are a staple for dates!"

You were going to murder Uzui on Monday.

But then again, suddenly everything made sense. Rengoku's overly detailed itinerary for the day, his exceptional dressing, the restaurant, the walk home. You felt like an idiot for not noticing sooner.

Never in your wildest dreams would you thought Rengoku to have feelings for you. You had expected him to only see you as a fellow colleague, one who had joined the academy at the same time and were at most, buddies for that reason alone. Sure, he always tries to make time to talk to you at work, but you just chalked that up to how he is with everyone. Hell, you never even really thought you were in his league, fully aware of how popular he was with the student body and fellow teachers.

You bury your face in your hands, trying not to groan out loud at your own obliviousness. In front of you Rengoku shifts his weight from one foot to the other, obviously getting antsy with your silence.

"I understand if you don't feel similarly," he begins in a voice too level to belong to himself, "I respect your feelings fully and am sincerly sorry if I have crossed any boundaries. Do not worry at work I-"

"NO!" you yell, cutting him off nearly throwing yourself forward to grab him in your haste. "I-I'm happy, you told me this!"

Rengoku stares down at you shocked by your loud response, face twitching as if he doesn't know whether to smile or not.

Awkwardly, you step forward, gently wrapping your arms around him, holding them there loosely until you feel him hug you back. You hide your burning cheeks in the folds of his coat, and the two of you stand in that dim street, hugging for what feels like a lifetime.

Finally Rengoku breaks the silence. "So, does this mean the date was a success?"

"Yep," you smile into his coat, your voice coming out muffled by the fabric, but you're pretty sure he heard you anyway.

"Then, can we go on another one again soon?"

You nodded, pulling away from him to face him. He's wearing that heart throbbing serene smile of his, and you cant help but smile in return.

"Of course! Just... ask me for advice next time okay? Not Uzui."

#rengoku imagines #rengoku x reader #rengoku kyoujurou #kny #Kimetsu no Yaiba #demon slayer #i know this is veeeewwwy veeeewwwwy long #my bad...........................#also if u like my work pls tell me

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unfolded73 · 4 years

Text

My Heartbeat Shows the Fear (2/4) - schitt’s creek ff

Summary: A canon divergent story: Patrick gets into a car accident and it brings the Brewers to town sooner.

Notes: This fic will be posted in 4 chapters, every other day. There is some description of injuries, but nothing too graphic or life-threatening.

The title is from “Overkill” by Colin Hay, which thanks to the show Scrubs puts me in mind of hospitals.

Thank you to Amanita_Fierce for putting so much time and thought into betaing this fic - you made it so, so much better. And thanks also to @high-seas-swan for some helpful suggestions, particularly on that one scene that I tore apart and rewrote.

Rated Teen, this chapter 5714 words. (ao3)

Chapter 1

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Chapter 2

Patrick first became aware of a constant, irritating beeping noise. He blinked his eyes open, his eyelashes crusty with sleep. Oh right, he thought as he took in his surroundings. He was in the hospital. It seemed like no time at all had passed since they told him that he was supposed to go into surgery for his arm. Was the surgery already over?

He looked down and saw his arm enclosed in bandages and a splint. Guess that's a yes to the surgery, he thought. The pain he remembered when he’d regained consciousness after the accident was gone, fortunately, numbed by what he assumed were some powerful drugs. He would have almost preferred some pain to this complete numbness.

Patrick had thought of himself as pretty unflappable when it came to getting injured — as a teen he’d suffered cuts that needed stitches more than once, and the sight of his own blood hadn’t really phased him. Once he’d suffered a ligament tear and knee dislocation playing hockey, and the sight of his leg bending the wrong way had been pretty grisly, but he’d still managed to joke around with his coach while he was being carried off the ice on a stretcher. None of that compared to the sight of his own broken bone protruding through the skin of his arm. That had triggered a visceral reaction, a deep, inborn knowledge from his hindbrain that screamed: this is very wrong! The paramedic in the ambulance had covered it with a bandage to keep any more dirt from getting into the wound, mercifully shielding it from Patrick’s eyes. The pain had been intense, though. ”He’s in shock,” he remembered the paramedic saying as he swam in a viscous soup of cold sweat and nausea and agony.

Catching movement out of the corner of his eye, he looked over to his right side and saw David sleeping on the pull-out sleeper chair in the corner of the room. He was still in his clothes, but he’d taken his shoes off and lined them up neatly next to the chair. The sight of David’s shoes brought a swell of emotion to Patrick’s chest.

“David,” he said. His voice was raspy, and he was suddenly aware of how thirsty he was. “David,” he repeated, louder.

David started up, lines on his cheek from the pillow under his face and his hair sticking up on one side. It made Patrick want to hug him.

“You okay? Need me to call a nurse?” David asked.

“No. Is there water?”

David nodded, standing up and grabbing a cup with a bendy straw off of a small rolling table. He brought it over, carefully directing the straw so that Patrick could take it in his mouth and suck down some of the water. It made him feel uniquely helpless, being tended to like this.

“How long have you been here? What time is it?” Patrick asked.

David glanced at the clock. “It’s 2:30 in the morning.” He pulled his sleeper chair closer and sat on it, taking Patrick’s right hand in his.

Patrick frowned. “How long was the surgery?”

“A couple of hours. Do you not remember when they brought you out of recovery?” David asked, the first hint of a smile that Patrick had seen flitting over his face.

“No. The last thing I remember was them prepping me for surgery,” Patrick said.

Now David almost laughed. “In your defense, you were very high when you first came out of anesthesia.”

“What did I say?”

“Well, you swore a lot, which was very out of character. And you said I was handsome several times.”

“You are handsome,” Patrick said with a smile.

“And now all of your nurses know it.” David squeezed his hand.

“I’m sorry I don’t remember that.” It sounded embarrassing, but he still would have liked to see a video of it — of himself high as a kite and gushing about his sexy boyfriend to anyone within earshot. He squeezed David’s hand back.

“Mm, don’t be. You threw up and you kept saying your ears were ringing and I might’ve gotten a bit… testy… with one of the nurses when she said it wasn’t anything to worry about.”

“My hero,” Patrick sighed fondly.

“How are you feeling now?”

Patrick tried to assess how he was feeling. He had flashes of more memories — agonizing pain when he was in the ambulance and when they put in him the CT machine, but now there was little more than a dull ache. “Not bad, actually.”

“Yeah, you’re on the really good drugs,” David said, pointing up to an IV bag. “Morphine, I’m pretty sure. Also some antibiotics, but it’s the morphine that’s relevant here.”

“That explains it.” Patrick lifted his uninjured arm and tried to smooth down David’s unruly hair. “Thanks for staying here with me.”

“They would have had to drag me out of here,” David said, his voice cracking with emotion. “You scared me.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It wasn’t your fault; it was the other driver’s fault.” David reached up and stroked a hand over Patrick’s forehead and cheek. “Do you remember the accident?”

Frowning, Patrick tried to probe his memories, and while he did so the automated blood pressure cuff around his arm filled up, squeezing his bicep almost to the point of pain before exhaling in a long hiss. “Not the impact. I remember flashes of being extracted from my car and put in an ambulance. Some stuff from when they first brought me in here.” He looked down at his arm. “I remember my arm looking really not good.”

David winced. “Yeah. Well, look at it this way: you’ll probably have a very manly scar when all this is over.”

“The car,” Patrick said. “I had all the products from the Mennonite farms in the car.” He knew insurance would cover the losses, but he still felt a stab of guilt that he’d caused some of their precious merchandise to be lost. It would take time to replace, time during which they couldn’t earn any money from the sales. He wanted to kick himself for not watching more closely at that intersection. He’d seen someone run that stoplight before. He should have been more careful.

Shaking his head, David said, “It doesn’t matter.”

“David—”

“Let me worry about it,” David said.

“You should go home and get some sleep.”

‘Not a chance. Besides, Alexis drove me here and I sent her home a while ago, so you’re stuck with me until she comes back in the morning.” He lifted Patrick’s hand to his mouth and kissed the knuckles. David’s eyes were suspiciously wet. “Also I may never let you out of my sight again.”

“I love you,” Patrick said.

“I love you more,” David replied, “as evidenced by me sleeping on this thing.” He pointed at the sleeper chair. “It makes me long for my bed at the motel.”

Patrick felt an itch between his shoulder blades, and shifted his body in an attempt to scratch it. A spike of pain shot through his side. Broken ribs, he remembered. Right. “Ow.” He chuckled uneasily. “This is going to put a real damper on our sex life.”

David leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Why don’t you try to get some more sleep? Your parents are going to be here in the morning.”

“My… what?”

His face cracking into a yawn, David answered, “I called your parents while you were in surgery. It seemed serious enough that they needed to know.”

Patrick’s heart began to race, which unfortunately he could hear echoed in beeps from the machines behind him. David noticed too, his eyes flicking up briefly to the monitors before looking back at Patrick’s face. Mind racing, Patrick tried to sit up, and another lightning bolt of pain kept him from executing that maneuver. “What did… what did you say?”

“That you’d been in a car accident and your arm was being operated on.” David’s face betrayed his confusion. “Patrick, I know you’re not super close with your parents but they needed to know that you’d been hospitalized.”

“Yeah, I know, but… David.” This was the worst case scenario, the thing that he’d hoped to avoid David ever knowing. If he could have just gotten up the courage to tell his parents the half dozen times he’d almost managed it, then David would never have had to know that he wasn’t out to them. That he was keeping his relationship with David a secret.

Well, there was no hiding it now. Patrick looked up at the ceiling and closed his eyes, steeling himself, before meeting David's concerned gaze. “I have to tell you something.”

David frowned. “What is it?”

“I’ve… I haven’t told my parents about the fact that we’re… together. I’m not out to them.”

“Oh.”

Patrick winced at the hurt on David’s face. “I wanted to tell them, I did, but then I didn’t go home for Christmas, and it’s just hard to… I don’t know how to say it, over the phone. I can’t get the words out.” He swallowed around a lump in his throat. “David, I’m sorry—”

“Mm mm, no. Don’t apologize.” David squeezed his hand and then kissed his fingers again, his facial expression difficult to read. The hurt wasn’t in evidence anymore, but perhaps because David was doing a better job of hiding it. “Coming out is very personal, and it’s something you should only do on your terms. Okay?” His mouth slanted to the side. “That’s why I brought this couple home from college one time and just told my parents to deal with it.”

Patrick chuckled in relief at the way David was trying to lighten the mood, but just as quickly his guilt rushed back to the surface. “I’m not ashamed of you, David. I promise I’m not.”

David’s lips quirked up. “Yes, that was obvious from the way you talked to the nurses about me when you were high.” He cleared his throat, sitting up straighter. “When your parents get here, I can just be… your business partner.”

His gut instinct was to say no. That wasn’t fair to David, or to what they meant to each other. But then he imagined it, lying here in a hospital bed, in pain and a little bit high on opiates, his arm in a splint, looking up at his parents towering over him and telling them he was gay. That he and David were boyfriends. It was an agonizing mental picture.

“Maybe… maybe just for tomorrow?” Patrick asked in a small voice. He sounded pathetic to his own ears. He looked up at the IV bag. “For one thing, I’d prefer to be sober when I do the whole coming out speech.” It was an attempt at a joke, but it wasn’t untrue. He didn’t feel like he was in any kind of mental shape to talk to his parents about his sexual orientation or his relationship with David right now.

Patrick couldn’t help but notice that David had pulled away from him a little bit, but he still had an encouraging smile plastered on his face. “That makes total sense. Don’t worry about that for right now. Just focus on healing, okay?”

Patrick reached out, putting his hand around David’s neck and pulling him in for a kiss. “I love you,” he whispered against David’s lips. “So much.”

David gave his shoulder a little pat when he pulled away. “Let’s try to get some more sleep, okay?”

“Yeah.” Patrick felt exhausted from just the half hour he’d been awake. “Okay.”

He watched as David resettled himself on the sleeper chair, twisting and turning before finally settling down and facing the wall. When Patrick finally fell asleep, his last vision was of David’s back, his shoulders rising and falling with his breath.

~*~

When the Lincoln pulled up in front of the hospital, David was outside waiting for it. He’d spent the rest of the night tossing and turning, noticing every time Patrick shifted in his fitful sleep, and then was woken for good at six in the morning when a new nurse came on shift and stopped in to check Patrick’s vitals and replace his IV bag. Patrick, meanwhile, was in more pain than when he’d awoken the first time, and he was in a mood to match. Alexis finally called to say she was ten minutes away, so David kissed Patrick’s cheek and told him he’d be back later and escaped.

He felt grimy, still in yesterday’s clothes, aware of his own body odor in a way that he absolutely despised. He walked over quickly to the car, wrenching the door open and collapsing into the seat.

“How’s Patrick?”

“Awake and coherent and cranky,” David said. “I told the nurse he needed to up his morphine, but they don’t listen to me.” He tilted his head back against the headrest and closed his eyes.

“You’re so sweet to stay by his bedside all night, David.”

He whipped his head around, looking for a sign that his sister was making fun of him, but her face was impassive as she concentrated on driving.

“Well, I couldn’t just let him wake up alone in the hospital. Can you imagine?”

“Yes, it happened to me in Singapore,” she said. “Also in Portugal, I think it was? Anyway. I’m glad he’s okay.”

“His arm is being held together with bandages and pieces of plastic and he’s in a lot of pain, but sure. He’s right as rain.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t have left then,” Alexis said.

David gestured emphatically down at his clothes. “If I can’t get out of these clothes and into a shower soon, then I might literally have a panic attack.” He turned and looked out the window at the passing fields. “Besides, his parents will be here in about an hour, his mom said.”

“Meeting the parents, David!” Alexis said, and he turned in time to see her execute an exaggerated series of blinks that seemed dangerous to do behind the wheel of a car. “I guess you do want to be freshly showered for that.”

He huffed. “I have to open the store this morning. I’ll meet them later.”

“David, no,” Alexis gasped, “you should go back to the hospital. Stevie and I can cover the store for a few hours. I talked to her about it when I got back last night.”

“I can go back tonight after work. His parents will be there with him,” David said, his stomach in knots, exhaustion weighing heavy on his limbs.

“Why are you being weird?”

“I’m not.”

“Yes, you are, David.”

Sighing, David rocked his head back to knock against the headrest several times. “Patrick’s not out to his parents. They don’t know we’re together.”

Alexis bared her teeth like that Chrissy Teigen meme. “Oh, David. Yikes.”

“I know. So being at the hospital means that I have to pretend to just be his business partner, and I don’t know if I have the emotional fortitude to do that right now when he almost died yesterday.” He turned and stared out the window again. “Can we not talk about it anymore?”

Alexis didn’t say anything, but she reached over and patted his shoulder in what he guessed was supposed to be sympathy. They drove the rest of the way back to Schitt’s Creek in silence.

By the time David was showered and dressed and had his hair in order, he felt almost human, and he was resigned to not seeing Patrick again until the evening. He stepped out into his and Alexis’s room only to see Alexis and Stevie standing there between the beds. They turned to him and folded their arms, determined looks on their faces.

He pulled up short, indignant. “What?”

“We’re going to look after the store for you,” Stevie said flatly. “You are going back to the hospital.”

“Patrick needs you, David,” Alexis said.

“Patrick doesn’t need me lurking around, making his parents wonder why his business partner is being so emotional,” David said, turning to the mirror and probing gently at the skin under his eyes. His lack of sleep was painfully obvious on his face.

“I’m sure he’ll tell his parents once he’s gotten his bearings. But in the meantime, he needs to know you’re standing by him,” Stevie said.

“That is a lot of sincere emotion coming out of your mouth, Stevie. Did you hit your head?”

“Fuck off,” Stevie said.

“You could also go by Patrick’s apartment and pick up some of his stuff,” Alexis said. “If he’s going to be stuck in the hospital, he’s going to need some comfy pajamas, and some changes of underwear. And a book or something.”

Okay, even David had to admit that was a good idea. He blew out a breath and crossed his arms, mirroring Stevie. “Are you sure you can handle the store?”

“Ugh, David, we’ve done it before,” Alexis said, stomping her foot. “Now go!” she said, shooing him out the door.

“Wait, I need you to do something else for me,” he said. “Can you contact the police and find out where his car was taken? I need to see if any of the things in it are salvageable.”

Stevie nodded. “We’ll take care of it.”

He made a quick stop at the apartment and packed a duffel bag for Patrick: pajamas, a pair of jeans and a t-shirt, underwear, a book from Patrick’s nightstand, and his toiletries from the bathroom. He packed Patrick’s phone charger, although he wasn’t sure if his phone had survived the crash. He started to put in Patrick’s favorite hoodie, but then he remembered that Patrick might not be able to get anything long-sleeved over his arm. Instead he grabbed the afghan from the back of the sofa, figuring that would have to do if Patrick was chilly in his hospital room.

The nurse at the front desk of Patrick’s floor recognized him, waving him through. It occurred to him that after yesterday, one of the nurses could inadvertently out Patrick to his parents.

David’s first impression of Patrick’s parents was of blue sweaters. I guess that’s where Patrick gets it, David thought as he hesitated in the doorway to Patrick’s room. The Brewers were standing by his bedside, his mother touching the top of his head affectionately. It was a perfect family tableau that he was loath to interrupt, but he couldn’t exactly linger in the hall all morning.

“Hey,” he said, stepping hesitantly into the room. “I’m David Rose,” he said by way of introducing himself. His eyes drank Patrick in, cataloging again the small cuts on his face. His instincts told him to go over to Patrick, to touch him, but he couldn’t do that now. Instead he stood awkwardly at the foot of the bed like an alien who didn’t know how to exist in the presence of humans.

“David! I’m Clint Brewer,” Patrick’s father said, holding a hand out for David to shake. David shifted his bag over to the other arm and suffered the overly firm handshake Clint gave him.

“And I’m Marcy. David, thank you for calling us last night.”

“Of course.” He turned to Patrick. “I went by your apartment and packed some…” He panicked. Was knowing where Patrick kept his things a tell? I mean, it wasn’t a big apartment; he probably could have figured it out even if he wasn’t over there all the time. “Some stuff for you.”

Patrick gave him a fond look. “Thanks.”

David fixated on the least intimate thing in the bag. “I grabbed your phone charger, but then I wasn’t sure if you even have your phone.”

“Yeah, I have no idea where it is. Still in the car, probably, and who knows where that is.”

“Stevie is looking into it,” David said.

“Thank goodness Patrick has you, David,” Marcy said, holding her hands out for the bag, so David surrendered it to her.

David met Patrick’s eyes, and then quickly looked away. “I’m just trying to be a nice person, Mrs. Brewer.”

Patrick snorted, suppressing a laugh.

A doctor David hadn’t seen before breezed into the room and picked up Patrick’s chart. “How are we feeling today, Mr. Brewer?” he said as his eyes scanned over the chart.

“Like I got hit by a truck,” Patrick muttered.

The doctor moved over toward Patrick’s injured side, forcing David to step out of the way. He watched with morbid fascination, unable to avert his eyes, as the doctor examined Patrick’s arm, then his side where presumably his broken ribs were. David caught a glimpse of terribly bruised skin under Patrick’s hospital gown, and he flinched. Pain was evident on Patrick’s face.

“No sign of infection; that’s what we are concerned with most with this kind of injury, so that’s a great sign,” the doctor said. He then checked Patrick’s pupils and asked him a few questions, making some notes before clicking his pen and putting it away. “Did they explain the surgery to you yesterday, Mr. Brewer?”

Patrick nodded. “Sure. That it had to be done quickly to prevent infection.”

“Right. We did what’s called an open reduction and internal fixation in this case. Metal rods were inserted which will allow your bone to fully heal.”

“Metal rods?” David asked, and then worried about how worried he sounded. Business partners shouldn’t sound so worried, he thought.

“How about that, you’ll get to set off the machine every time you fly,” Clint said, trying to lighten the mood.

“It’s routine,” the surgeon said, putting Patrick’s chart back on its hook. “If you continue to show no sign of infection tomorrow and the wound is healing well, we’ll go ahead and put a cast on it so that you’ll be able to move more freely.”

“Am I going to regain full use of my arm? I play baseball and—”

“And guitar,” David interjected, his stomach queasy at the idea that Patrick might never be able to play again.

The surgeon smiled. “Well, you’ll definitely be on the disabled list for the rest of the season, but there’s no reason that with a little bit of rehab you won’t be able to do everything you’re used to doing after a few months.” He gave Patrick a corny thumbs-up gesture. “Okay?”

“Yeah,” Patrick said. “How much longer before I can go home?”

“Well, that’s for the attending physician to decide, but I’d say tomorrow is a distinct possibility.”

“Thank you so much,” Marcy said as the surgeon gave them a wave and rushed out of the room as quickly as he’d rushed in.

David wasn’t sure what to do. There was no reason for him to stay now that he’d delivered Patrick’s belongings, and if he did stay, Patrick’s parents would probably wonder why.

“Is the store closed?” Patrick asked him. He had dark circles under bloodshot eyes, David noticed. He could probably use some more sleep.

“No, Alexis and Stevie are there,” David said.

“That’s your sister, and…” Clint asked.

“And my best friend.”

“Well, it’s very nice of them to help out,” Marcy said.

“Yeah.” David fidgeted with the hem of his sweater. “So I should go…”

“Do you have a hotel booked here in Elmdale?” Patrick asked his father.

“Not yet; we came straight here. I guess we need to find a place before we collapse,” Clint replied.

“Actually, I had an idea,” Marcy said, “if you don’t mind, sweetheart.”

“What?” Patrick asked.

“One thing you’re going to need when you get out of the hospital is food that’s easy to heat up. I was thinking we could stay at your apartment and I could use the kitchen to make you some meals and fill up your freezer before you get home.”

“Mom, you don’t have to do that—”

“Patrick, I want to. There isn’t a lot we can do to help, but I can at least do that.”

Patrick looked at David, and all David could do was shrug. It sounded like a good idea, actually, but he could also think of a few reasons why Patrick wouldn’t necessarily want his parents spending time unsupervised in his apartment.

“I can take them to your place, and… straighten things up.” David said, looking at Patrick pointedly to make sure he understood his meaning.

“Oh, we don’t care how messy it is,” Marcy said. “Don’t trouble yourself.”

“No, that’s a good idea,” Patrick said.

“It’s no trouble,” David added. “It’s on my way back to work. You can follow me in your car.”

“Thanks, David,” Clint said, clapping him on the back.

“Is there anything else we can do for you this morning, sweetheart?” Marcy was still at Patrick’s side, stroking his hair. David felt a stab of jealousy that he couldn’t stroke Patrick’s hair right now. Or kiss him.

“No, I’m good. I’m just going to get some more sleep, I think,” Patrick said.

“I… um… brought the afghan from your apartment.” David gestured toward the duffel. He wanted to spread it over Patrick’s legs, to tuck him in securely, but instead he stood to the side and watched Patrick’s mother doing it. Then he had to settle for a little wave as the three of them left Patrick’s hospital room.

“I’m just going to run to the restroom before we go,” David said, already pulling out his phone before he’d cleared the door to the men’s room.

911, he texted to Stevie. Need you to go to Patrick’s apartment and remove any evidence of our relationship IMMEDIATELY. There’s a spare key in the top drawer of the desk in the back of the store.

Stevie: why?

David: I’m bringing the Brewers over there. We’ll be there in 40 minutes.

Stevie: check. what should i be on the lookout for?

David: Photos, mainly. And there’s a shelf with some of my clothes on it.

He groaned to himself and then added, Make sure we didn’t leave lube out anywhere. Like the bedside table or on the floor next to the bed.

Stevie: gross. if I have to pick up a used condom, you’re going to pay.

David: What kind of animal do you think I am??? Although maybe also empty the trash. Thanks, I owe you.

She didn’t respond to that, but he’d have to assume she’d get the job done.

Stevie dispatched on her errand of subterfuge, he returned to find the Brewers in the lobby. “I’ll be driving an enormous black boat of a car; you can’t miss it,” David said to them as they walked out into the sunshine.

Once they were on the road, David’s attention bounced from the road to his speedometer to his rearview, making sure the Brewers were still behind him. By the time they got to Patrick’s apartment building, he was a tight ball of tension.

He had a text from Stevie waiting for him when he picked his phone up and looked at it. mission accomplished. who needs that many kinds of lube? im mentally scarred and also very curious.

“This seems like a nice neighborhood,” Marcy said, looking around.

David thought about the recycling bin he’d seen a couple of times outside the building that was full to overflowing with liquor bottles, and about the couple downstairs who had screaming fights on Saturday nights, but didn’t think either of those were anecdotes he should tell, particularly because they would indicate how much time David had spent in Patrick’s apartment already. Instead he just agreed noncommittally as he led them up the stairs.

It was only as he stuck his key in the lock that he realized that having Patrick’s spare key was one thing, but having it on his key ring with his keys to the store and his room key at the motel was quite another. He winced as he opened the door, hoping they hadn’t noticed.

“So this is Patrick’s place,” he said unnecessarily, his eyes straying to the mantel and then to the desk. Stevie had done her job — the photos of him were gone. His eyes raked over the shelving next to the bed and zeroed in on the shelf where he’d had a couple of sweaters and a pair of jeans. It was empty.

“It’s not very big, is it?” Clint laughed. “But Patrick never has been someone who kept a lot of things.”

David wanted to agree vehemently — the only reason the apartment didn’t look much more spartan was David’s influence — but he bit the inside of his cheek and nodded. “So here’s the key,” he said, unclipping it from his keyring and handing it over. So much for not drawing attention to his key ring, he thought. “There’s a grocery store, Brebner’s, that’s not far away. And you can get fresh produce at our store,” he added, which made Marcy’s eyes light up. “I should change the sheets for you,” he said, turning to the bed.

“We can do that, David. You don’t have to trouble yourself.”

“Nope! It’s no trouble,” he said, and he knew he sounded manic, but there was no way on God’s green Earth he was going to let Patrick’s mother touch the sheets that were currently on Patrick’s bed. “I help my friend Stevie change sheets at the motel sometimes,” he said as he quickly stripped the bed. “I’m very good at it.”

“Oh, Patrick mentioned the open mic nights,” Clint said, pointing at the framed poster on the wall. “Did you know he used to play at an open mic night in high school?”

David finished stuffing the dirty sheets into the hamper and grabbed a clean set from the shelf. “Mm hmm, he mentioned that.”

“I’m glad he’s picked it back up. I think he’d stopped playing guitar for a while before things ended with—” Marcy stopped herself, like it just occurred to her that she maybe shouldn’t be gossiping about her son’s past love life with his business partner.

“Rachel?” David supplied as he stretched the fitted sheet out over the mattress. Marcy came over and grabbed the other side, looking relieved.

“I wasn’t sure if you knew about that,” she said, putting her corners of the sheet on as David did the same on the other side.

He nodded, remembering the worst week of the last year (until this one). “I do.” Then felt like he needed to explain knowing it. “All those hours of working together, you end up telling each other things.” Although not, apparently, that he isn’t out to his parents, David’s brain supplied.

“Thanks for all your help today, David,” Clint said. “We really do appreciate it.”

David stifled a wince and nodded, trying to approximate a smile.

~*~

“Marcy, you don’t have to start cooking right this minute,” Clint said once they had the groceries unpacked. “You’ve barely slept in the last 36 hours.”

“I want to at least get a lasagna put together,” she said, organizing the ingredients for her meat sauce on the counter and then opening cabinets, looking for an appropriate saute pan.

“Well,” Clint said with a sigh, “give me the garlic and onion and I’ll prep them for you.”

Marcy fiddled with the knobs on Patrick’s stove until she had the correct burner heating up. “His store certainly was beautiful,” she said, thinking back to their brief visit that afternoon. “I never imagined that Patrick could put something like that together.”

“Well, he did tell us that he mainly handled the financial side of things, so I suppose the look of the place is down to David.”

“I guess that’s true.” She unwrapped the package of ground beef, worrying her lip between her teeth.

“He’s going to be okay, honey,” Clint said. “Don’t worry.”

She laughed. “Don’t tell a mother not to worry, Clint Brewer.”

She put the ground beef into the hot pan and began breaking it up with a spatula.

“I’ll tell you another thing,” Clint said. “I think David might have a crush on our son.”

Marcy frowned at him. “You know, it’s not okay to assume someone is gay just because they’re… you know. Effeminate.”

“It’s not that.” Off his wife’s skeptical look, he conceded, “Okay, it’s not just that. It’s the way he looks at Patrick. You didn’t see the way David looked at our son?”

Marcy blinked, trying to remember. She’d been so focused on Patrick, she’d barely looked at David while they were in the hospital room with him. “I guess I didn’t.”

“Well, I think there are some unrequited feelings there,” Clint said.

She mulled that over while she continued to put her meat sauce together. It wouldn’t be good for their business relationship if what Clint said was true. She wondered if Patrick knew, and if so if it made their relationship awkward. David seemed like a respectful person; surely he wouldn’t do anything to make Patrick uncomfortable at work.

Marcy was still worrying about it when she was brushing her teeth in the bathroom that night, beyond exhausted and ready to collapse into bed. She wasn’t sure what impulse made her reach out and open Patrick’s medicine cabinet.

“Hasn’t Patrick been saying he wasn’t seeing anyone?” she asked Clint as she got into bed next to him.

He was already half-asleep. “Yeah.”

“Well, he’s got a mostly empty box of condoms in his medicine cabinet,” she said.

“Marcy, you shouldn’t snoop.”

“I didn’t mean to!”

“You didn’t mean to open his medicine cabinet?” he yawned.

“It’s a big box.”

“Marcy.”

“Okay, sorry.” She curled up on her side.

“Maybe he hasn’t had any relationships serious enough to tell us about,” Clint reasoned.

She didn’t want to have to think about her son that way, having casual, meaningless sex instead of a real relationship. That wasn’t what she wanted for him. It was why she’d encouraged him to patch things up with Rachel in the past. And while she now believed Patrick when he said things were really over between them, she still hoped he would find someone else who would love him the way he deserved to be loved. All night as she slept, her hopes and worries for her son monopolized her dreams.

Chapter 3

#schitt's creek #schitt's creek fic #schitt's creek ff #david x patrick #david x patrick ff #david x patrick fic #my fic

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