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bakugosbratx · 4 years ago

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Baby Eyes | Mafia Katsuki Bakugo x Fem! Reader

Warning: 18+ Content. Some non-con, blood, murder, Mafia Bakugo, Fem! Reader, bdsm, sexual intercourse, size kink, degrading, orgasm denial, Stockholm syndrome, yandere themes, etc.

Words: 2,896

A/N: thank you so much to @daisy-bakugo for letting me participate. It is really fun doing this collaboration with you. Daisy’s Event

Tags: @awilddreamerwrites @peachsenpie @miriobaby @milkthistletea @idfkwtfgof click here to see my other works

Vegas.

Many dream of this city. The gambling, the drinks, the money, the night life. It has it all. Your dreams and worse nightmares can be made here all within a single night. The world may be cruel, but Vegas is even crueler. At least, it is for Y/N.

Your pistol was held tight in your trembling little hand. You have not been properly trained for this moment since in your late teens. The weapon felt foreign to the touch. You are now in your twenties and you are usually not doing this line of work, but since you wanted to disturb your significant other while he was working, he handed you the gun for you to handle.

“Since you want to be such a fucking cry baby, here.” He growled, shoving the pistol into your pounding chest. You gasped.

“S-Sir, I—“ You stammered, using the name he loved to be called by you. You would help it lessen your punishment, but the man did not budge.

“Don’t keep me waiting, brat. Finish this piece of shit off swiftly and quit your damn crying.”

You watched as he left into the city lights of Vegas before turning your attention back to the male before you. The man begged for mercy beneath you and your mouth feels dry.

“P-Please, ma’am. I-I have a w-wife and t-three beautiful c-children. I’ll g-give you your m-money next week. I-I promise.” The fearful man stammered amongst the abandoned dark alleyway. You have heard this speech by many like him when Katsuki brought you on his missions. It should just fall on deaf ears, but tears still brimmed your eyes as memories flooded back to the forefront of your damaged mind.

These memories are the reason you are in this predicament. You begged and squealed, running towards Katsuki and hanging onto his arm when he directed you to stay in the car. You two could have been gone by now, but you decided to intervene. Now you are here, about to commit another murder.

Your father was in this same position a few years ago. Begging for mercy before Katsuki slaughtered him right in front of you. Your cries still echo this alleyway during late, breezy nights. People think you have been disposed of as well. That is what eventually happened to the remainder of your family, but you are just under a new identity.

The barrel of the gun digs deeper into the victim’s temple. You attempt to find your strength to pull the trigger. You need to before Katsuki returns. He does not like waiting and you really are pushing what is left of his buttons today.

“I’m sorry.” You whimper out, closing your sorrow filled eyes and pressing down on the trigger. The feeling of blood splattering amongst your cold skin brought back even more unwanted memories. Falling to your knees, you began to cry hysterically in front of the fallen corpse.

Heavy footsteps came up behind you after a few moments. Katsuki has been watching the whole time and you know it. This is what made the experience even worse. You know his judgment is coming. He gave you a task and although you succeeded, it isn’t good enough. He hates your emotional ways. ‘Baby eyes’ as he would say. Always crying over something or someone.

A big calloused hand entangling into your hair with a deep sigh following. You could not look up at him. You hate him right now. You need to, at least, but the feeling of his large fingers stroking your scalp delivered comfort. A comfort he gives and takes away on a whim.

“Took you long enough.” Katsuki grumbled. You gaze up at him with a pitiful look he knows all too well. There was a certain aura to you that changed when your mind drifted to that night. The night he murdered your family right in front of you and all you could do is watch in terror.

“I-I’m sorry.” You muttered out, already accepting that Katsuki is annoyed with you. This is not your first murder and sure will not be your last. He has groomed you long enough for you to know your role.

Katsuki kicked the man’s head with his large foot so he could see the man’s pleading face. Katsuki is cruel in that way. He loved seeing his victim’s expressions in their final moments. Especially when his beautiful woman killed them.

Digging into the man’s pockets, he grabbed his pack of cigarettes and black leather wallet to review what was contained inside it. The little cash the man held is now in Katsuki’s possession.

“Marlboro Reds,” Katsuki commented as he slipped the cigarette in between his moist lips and lit it up, “nice.”

Turning around to face you after letting the nicotine enter his system, he looks down at you. Grabbing your chin, you are forced to meet his gaze. You tremble under his touch.

“What did I say about that crying shit?” Katsuki recalls one of your many lectures.

“I’m sorry!” You exclaimed, a little too loud for your own good. Katsuki’s eyebrows furrowed together, not pleased with your tone. His hand found a way to your neck, giving you a nice squeeze as he guides you up to your feet.

“Let’s go.” Katsuki growls, his red orbs shooting venom into you. Your arm is now tight into his grip as he leads you to the parked all black Lamborghini.

You climb into the passenger seat while Katsuki climbs into the driver’s. You used the napkins in the glove compartment to clean up your soiled face. Katsuki is already on his second cigarette as he drives to the mansion you both share. Considering how fed up he is with you and your antics, you are surprised that half of the box is not gone by now. You know you are in for it once you arrive home.

Katsuki pulled up to the house after some time. Your tears did not pause once the whole way there which only agitated Katsuki even more. He did not say a word as you know to follow the tall man inside. Straight up the spiral marble staircase to the master bedroom, you begin undressing as Katsuki does not appreciate the mess in his living space. Along with the fact you are always to be naked within the bedroom. That rule was set once you turned eighteen years of age.

You sat on the edge of the bed, not enjoying the look in Katsuki’s angry eyes. His muscular arms folded against his chest as he leaned against the wall, glaring into you. You feel small — as usual — within his presence. He is making sure you remember your place.

“What the hell were you thinking out there, Y/N?” Katsuki begins after moments have passed.

“I-I don’t know.” You mumbled, twiddling your thumbs in your bare lap. Your insides are curling with each passing second. You are not sure why you did what you did, honestly. You have seen numerous people plead for forgiveness at Katsuki’s feet, but Katsuki is always going to be a merciless man. Your body acted before your brain could compute. You just wanted to save him. Salvage your loved ones death in some way, shape, or form, but it can never be done.

“You have to give me a better excuse than that. This little rebellion you're on lately isn’t doing nothing but getting you into heaps of trouble.”

“It’s not a rebellion!” You snap back, tears still spilling from your orbs. “You killed my family, Katsuki!”

Katsuki rolled his eyes, used to this statement coming from you. “Here we go again.” He scoffs with a tsk following shortly after. “We’ve been over this, Y/N. Your father sold you and your family out for cash. If anything, you should be fucking grateful I even let you live.”

“Grateful?” You repeat in disbelief, a half hearted chuckle escaping your lips. Maybe it was because Katsuki let you take another life, maybe your parents' spirits are coming through, or maybe you’re just so fed up with him, but a sudden burst of confidence runs through you.

You stand up, strolling over to the man before you. His jaw is clenching as he examines each cowardly step you take towards him. You glare up to the man before you, quivering before his mighty presence.

“You killed my family, Katsuki,” you repeat through gritted teeth and clenched fists, “I’ll never forgive you for that.”

“Oh yeah?” Katsuki challenged, his profound amused smirk appearing. The look in your glossy irises said all the words you didn’t have the courage to speak. “Good thing I really don’t give a fuck about your forgiveness, princess.”

Katsuki’s words soaked into your veins like venom. His smug looks always made you want to beat it off of him. Ever since you have met him. You both know you have no match against him. He will always win. Always.

You have been stuck with him since you were fifteen years old. You two never had any relationship or any sexual conduct until you were the legal age of eighteen. You would be lying if you said you didn’t fall for him over the years. He is all you know and Katsuki grew to like you over the years. Though he trained you to be the woman he wants you to be for him, you do throw a tantrum or two when needed.

“I hate you.” You sniveled.

“Sure you do. Let’s clean up that pretty face of yours so I can stuff it, eh?” Katsuki chuckled, cupping your chin with one hand so he can wipe your nose with a handkerchief with the other. You attempted to break loose of his firm grasp, but the male was not even phased.

“I don’t want your dick anywhere near me.” You admit allowed, still keeping the same angry tone within your words.

Katsuki arched his eyebrow, releasing your face from his grip and discarding the used cloth into the waste bin. “Considering the show you put on out there tonight, you’re lucky I’m not doing worse to you. I can always make that pretty ass of yours bruised too if you’d like?”

You immediately shake your head no. Your bottom is still a bit sore from two weeks ago when Katsuki put you over his knee. You are just now able to sit normal again. You do not need to go back to that.

“No, sir.” You stutter out, backing away from him and putting your hands behind your back. Katsuki is already pouring himself some whiskey into a whiskey glass that you make sure is always waiting on his dresser. He always enjoys a good drink after a long mission.

You take his black suit jacket off of him like expected and lay it on the dirty laundry hamper. Katsuki is already sitting on the bed, sipping on his alcoholic beverage, waiting for you to get to work. Kneeling before him, you begin unzipping his slacks and tugging down his underwear to reveal his erected cock. You take a moment to contemplate your future actions. You really did not want his dick in your mouth, but like Katsuki said before, you do not have a choice in the matter.

Your train of thought is derailed when Katsuki tugs on your hair. “Isn’t going to suck itself, brat. Get to work.”

Mentally groaning, your tongue swipes his length before placing kisses on the tip. Slowly, you begin taking in inch—by—inch. Saliva slid down his cock by the time you had it in your throat. Choking noises fed Katsuki’s already inflated ego.

“Can’t talk much with my cock down your throat, huh?” He teased, taking another sip of his whiskey. “For someone who claimed they didn’t want my cock to begin with, you sure are deep throating it rather quickly.”

You ignored his usual insults as you came up for air. You let out small coughs then go in for more, every vein being pleased with your tongue as you take it all in. Katsuki groans in pleasure as you pick up the speed. His cock is coated in your saliva as you did not slow down once to catch air. It wasn’t worth the ego boost he would feel from knowing he is too big for you.

Katsuki’s whiskey went unfinished as he could not focus on drinking it. Cum soon fills your hollow cheeks and down your throat as he releases into you. Not a drop was missed as you milked his cock. You were rewarded with a head pat.

“On the bed,” Katsuki instructs, “all fours.”

“Do I have to?” You whine. Katsuki vigorously grabs your chin, staring down into you. The room is dark, but his crimson eyes seemed to glow.

“If you know what’s good for you, you’ll get on this fucking bed and shut your Goddamn mouth.” Katsuki hisses, sending chills down your spine. You do as you are told like he taught you. Arching your back, your ass is now in his perfect viewing. Katsuki’s clothes discarded to the hardwood floor below, his dick already erected at the sight of you.

“See? That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” Katsuki asked, rhetorically. He spreads you open more for his personal view. “Yeah, that’s it.” He comments, overviewing all of you. One of his hands stroked his cock while the other pressed on your begging clit. You let out a soft moan, hoping he didn’t hear.

Placing his hands on your hips, he drags you closer to him. Leveling you with his cock, the tip slowly slips into your entrance then proceeding to pick up full speed. Your cunt swallows all of him, hugging his cock with each rhythmic thrust. You can feel your tight walls get stretched by his girth with each entry he makes, not even giving you time to get used to his size as he exits to repeat the same process. No matter how many times you two have sex, you will never get used to Katsuki’s length and size.

“Katsuki—“ You sob in pleasure and in pain.

“Shut it, slut. You’re going to take all of my fucking cock and like it. I’m going to fuck the brat out of you tonight.” Katsuki demands, pressing down on your spine so your ass is more perked up for him to smack periodically. Your cries and moans are muffled into the European satin sheets below. You grip onto them for support as Katsuki does not slow down once.

Your pussy pulsates with each thrust. It was about to give out on you and cum all over his cock. Though you did not want to give him the satisfaction, your cunt had other plans as it became tighter around Katsuki’s length.

“Aw, is someone going to cum?” Katsuki coo’s condescendingly, beginning to go agonizingly slow.

You lift your head to beg for sweet release. “Please let me cum, sir. Pretty please. I need to oh so badly.” You sobbed. His silence made your insides do flips. His slow strokes did not once stop and his nails dug into your thighs.

“No.” Katsuki finally denies as he knows you cannot take anymore. You gasp, your heart stopping for a split second.

“Katsuki, please.” You hiccuped. “I really need to.”

“Should’ve thought about that before throwing a tantrum today. Good girls get to cum.” Katsuki shrugged, using his long muscular arm to push your head back into the mattress. “Now shut the hell up while I fuck you senseless.”

Just like Katsuki stated, he fucked you until his high was met. Of course, he did not make it easy as he was about to bust, he would go slower to edge himself. He wanted this to be a punishment to remember. The whole time, you behaved and did not cum. No matter how many times Katsuki tried to get you to slip, you refused.

“C’mon and cum, brat. Y’know you wanna.” Katsuki would tease with immaturity. All you could say was incoherent “no thank you’s.” A soft rub on your ass was telling you that you passed his test.

Countless minutes, maybe even hours, have passed until Katsuki decided he was ready to release himself. “You can cum now.” He finally grants. You did not get to even process his words as your pussy released onto his cock. Babbles of pleasure and gratitude escaped from your lips.

“Good fuckin’ girl.” Katsuki praises, his cock now removed from you. You whine at the hollowness you felt.

“Lay on your back.” He instructs, doing his best to keep it together. You follow his request and switch over to your back. “Play with your tits.”

Your fingers grab onto your sensitive nipples, swirling on them before giving them a nice little pinch. Katsuki stood over you, stroking his cock that is covered in his pre-cum.

“Yeah, that’s it. Good girl.” Katsuki praised once more, analyzing your lewd faces as your fingers played with your breast.

“Mm, cover me with your cum.” You encouraged, rubbing your thighs together and pushing your breast closer to one another. Katsuki became feral as cum squirted onto your chest and stomach. Just the sight of you is making Katsuki forget today ever happened.

Just like always, baby eyes.

©bakugosbratx

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xpeachesncream · 4 years ago

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perfectly wrong | thirteen

summary: there were rules that had to be followed: no one could know about you two, there was no ‘getting to know each other,’ and there was absolutely no emotional attachment allowed. if this could be done, there should be no complications. but somehow, the rules always get bended.

pairing: reader x fuckboy!kth

genre: college au | fluff, angst, smut

words: 2.3k

chapter warnings: cussing, soft tae

notes: down to 2 chapters left! i will most likely do some drabbles every now and then for this, but not right away because i’ll be working on my new fic: acquainted. will let you know when this goes live, but pls check it out. it’s gonna be messy and filthy as hell, im sorry lmao

tags: @soulstaes @apollukee @imluckybitches @btsis7okay @ppangiiroo @gee-nee @enchantaeduniverse @miinoongi @thedarkwinterrose @levrantae @somewhereofftheglobe @jwlmnbt @symmetricaleyeliner @bluesharksandfish (pls msg me if you would like to be added to the taglist!)

> series masterlist <

Taehyung slouched on his couch, tv on whatever the hell channel it was on. He scrolled through his phone aimlessly, but it wasn't long before he huffed and threw his phone aside. He wasn't feeling himself, or anything for that matter, and was tired of being in this funk. He felt terrible about how everything went down and he couldn't really forgive himself for the shit he said to you. He didn't mean the things he said, but he was also the one who didn't know how to properly process feelings. He always acted on impulse and how he felt at that moment, rather than thinking about the situation rationally. Plus yeah, he had a temper. Shit didn't mix.

"Ayo." He hears Jimin's voice at the door, followed by three soft knocks.

"It's unlocked." Tae says. Jimin welcomes himself in and kicks his shoes aside. He smiles at him, holding something in his hands as he walks into the kitchen. "What's up?"

"Uh, found these at your door." He holds up the prints Tae bought from you. He sighs and shakes his head, almost dismissing it entirely.

"Keep it."

"Um, no? You bought these for a reason, so you should keep them."

"Not anymore." Taehyung lays his head back against the couch and shuts his eyes.

"You're so dramatic. I'm leaving these here."

"Whatever."

"What's wrong with you now, princess?"

"I'm just not in the mood."

"You haven't been in the mood.." Jimin sits on the other end of the couch. "And quite frankly, it's pretty annoying. You know what you did wrong, so why don't you just fix it?"

"It's not that easy."

"Says who? You?" Jimin scoffs. "Look, I know our track record isn't the best, but I know you genuinely care about Y/N. I know she means more to you than what you put out there, so why can't you just take it for what it is? Why do you have to make it so complicated?"

"Because I'm sure by now she hates me and wants nothing to do with me. It's exactly one of the things I'm afraid about the most. What if she gives up or realizes she doesn't want me the way I want her?"

"Do you think she's worth it?"

"I just-"

"Yes or no?" Taehyung looks at him as he leans over onto his knees.

"Yes, I do."

"Then none of that shit should matter. I'm positive she cares about you just as much as you do for her. If she's worth it, then you'd be willing to go through these ups and downs with her and do this ride with her."

"She's not going to want this after what I did, Jimin."

"You're full of excuses." Jimin shakes his head. "Then you do what you can to fix this and show her how you'll change, rather than just saying you'll do this and that."

"I don't know." Is all Taehyung can say. "I was pretty hurtful."

"You're also human. It's okay to make mistakes, but you should really work on processing your feelings better and communicating. Plus, your temper, dude. Tone that shit down."

"It's been so long since I've done this." Believe it or not, Taehyung was the complete opposite before. His last, serious relationship a couple of years ago made him flip the switch. He gave his ex everything, and was always willing to put his life down for her. He gave and gave, even if he felt like he couldn't anymore. He did all this just to get fucked over in the end, which is why he ultimately didn't believe relationships were worth the energy anymore.

"Y/N is not your ex. Stop comparing it to that. No experience will be the exact same."

"Ughhhh, I fucked this all up." Tae groaned, tilting his head back and covering it with his hat.

"I'm just saying, you could still try and fix this. Even in the end you two don't get together or whatever, you can at least say you tried. I'm tired of you moping around like you can't do shit to make it better. You know what she means to you."

"I'm not moping."

"Yes, you are! Look at you, looking like a sorry ass." Jimin threw his crumpled napkin at him. "Don't pass up on a good girl like that."

"Okay, I get it."

"No, I don't think you do." Tae looked at him. "Look, if this was any other girl, I probably wouldn't care much. But Y/N is genuinely different and I see how you both look at each other. It's really obvious how much you two ended up caring for each other."

"She is different. God, she's.." Tae sighs as he runs his hand through his hair. "She's beautiful and sweet, with just the right amount of mean. She's creative and her voice has always been so soothing. I want her around me all the time, even when she gets frustrating as hell." Jimin smiles.

"If you pass on her, she's mine." Jimin teased, knowing it would rub Taehyung the wrong way.

"Fuck you." Taehyung spat. "I should still beat your ass for the shit you pulled at the club."

"It was harmless." Jimin laughed. "So are you fixing this or what?"

"If I fix this, you need to stay 10 ft away from her." Jimin laughed out loud and held his stomach.

"Cry baby. I'm not gonna do anything." Jimin came and patted him on the back. "I'm sure everything will be just fine." And so, Taehyung gets himself up to go and fix this. He knew it wasn't going to be easy but he needed to right his wrongs.

Taehyung sat in his car and gathered himself together before he made his way up to the apartment. He gave off three knocks before he waited patiently for the door to swing open.

"I have to be honest, it's taking everything in me to stop myself from fucking you up right now." Jungkook sighed and stepped aside to let him in.

"That's fair."

"So, what's up? Why did you need to come here to talk to me?"

"I just wanted to apologize for how things went down at Jin's party."

"I appreciate it, but it still doesn't change the fact that you disrespected Y/N and talked down on her the way you did."

"I know, and I didn't mean any of it. I just wasn't thinking. If I'm being completely honest, I was pretty jealous of your relationship with her."

"What is this, high school?" Jungkook stopped himself from taking it any further because he could say a lot more to his face, but he wasn't going to since Taehyung made the effort to come here and apologize in person.

"Okay, I get it, it's childish."

"At least you're aware." Jungkook paused before shaking his head. "Look, not that it should even matter or anything, but all I knew growing up was Y/N and Jin hyung and vice versa. I didn't have any siblings or any cousins that could relate to me. I moved a lot before I finally settled with my family. I didn't get along with people easily, which is why when I met Y/N, we got really close and I stuck by her. We were similar, but different. It's always been that way, and quite frankly, it's not going to change." Taehyung nodded. "She doesn't have her family by her side, so me, hyung, Yoongi and Hoseok became that for her."

"I know, I'm sorry. I just kept thinking you two had it for each other like that and I couldn't understand why it was making me so upset."

"I love Y/N, I really do. But at the end of the day, she's her own person and she decides how to live her life. It's her life and I'm only in it." Jungkook shrugs. "I want nothing more than for Y/N to be happy with someone who can give her the world and cherish her for who she is. She has so much to offer and she brings life to everything around her."

"I-" Taehyung paused. "I really care about her. And I know this probably sounds stupid coming from me, but I want to do things differently with her."

"I just have to ask - are you even sure of your own feelings? You're not doing all of this cause you're lonely and have no one else to go to?"

"No, of course I'm sure of my feelings." Jungkook shrugged.

"You've been messing around with so many girls for some time now, though."

"Yeah and I also stopped doing that for awhile now."

"It's just hard to believe because I'd hate for her to have to go through it if you go back to your old ways."

"I won't."

"But that's easy for you to say, isn't it?" Kook shot him a look. All of a sudden, this conversation felt more like an interview but Jungkook had to do what he had to do. He knew what Taehyung was capable of, and he would hate for you to go through it again.

"Yeah it is, but she makes me want to be a better man." Jungkook sighed. He saw the look in Taehyung's face and he couldn't completely say it was all bullshit. He had never seen this kind of soft expression come from someone like Taehyung. "I haven't felt this way in a really long time, and it's scary for me. But she's worth it."

"I get that." Jungkook nods. "She cares about you a lot, you know? She may not say it but I saw how beat up she was over this entire thing."

"I want to fix this."

"I have to be honest, I'm a little wary. You really have to keep your word about doing better and not slipping up. She doesn't deserve it." Taehyung nods.

"I hear you." Taehyung pauses. "How is she?" Jungkook shrugs.

"Fine, except for the fact that she's sick right now." Taehyung's eyes widen.

"Is she alright?"

"Yeah. If you haven't figured it out already, Y/N isn't the type to back down." Taehyung chuckled.

"Yeah, I got that much."

"Hey," Jungkook tilted his head to look at him once more. "I really do respect the fact that you came here to talk to me in person. I know we don't know much about each other, but I know Y/N can see good in you." Taehyung nodded silently.

"Only trying to right my wrongs here. I don't want to slip up and lose her already."

"So, have you talked to hyung yet?" Taehyung looked at him and shook his head.

"No, but that's where I was headed after this." Kook nods silently. The two talk for a bit more, making sure they were on the right page, enough to put the past behind them and move on from the petty, unnecessary drama that had went down. When Taehyung had felt satisfied tackling one of the biggest hurdles, he made his way over to the cafe to tackle the last one. Not gonna lie, Taehyung was scared for this encounter because he knew Jin would lay his life down for you. Luckily for him, Jin was a wise man and never held grudges. Of course he didn't appreciate how Taehyung handled himself and this whole thing, but it wasn't entirely his fault and Jin always thought holding onto negativity was a waste of energy.

Jin happily greeted him, like his usual self, and brought him to the back so they could talk. Taehyung was sweating bullets, but he knew if he wanted to be in your life, he'd have to make it right with Jin. For Aiko, for the things he said and the things he's done to hurt you, everything. And so he sympathetically apologizes as he sits in front of Jin. Apologizes for the way things went down at the party, for Aiko, for having hurt anyone in this situation. Jin gave off a small, toothless smile and told Taehyung how he appreciated him for coming by. Quite frankly, he wanted to kill him as soon as you had told him about everything that had gone done between the both of you, including finding out about Aiko. Although the whole thing with Aiko was unfortunate, he couldn't really be mad because she was never his to begin with. The only thing he was really worried about was you, his baby cousin. Baby sister. Taehyung confessed that he had been feeling pretty lost because he believed you wouldn't want anything to do with him after that night. Jin reassures him and does a damn good job of it, telling him that you would never completely shut someone out, especially if you cared about them. Jin could tell how much you ended up caring for the guy and he wasn't going to make you change your mind about it because you were grown, and you could make your own decisions. He would only be there to support you and reassure you if times got tough. He didn't know Taehyung enough to immediately label him as a bad guy and right now, he was only showing he had some good in him.

They continued to talk for a bit [while Jin still had the time, at least], with Jin trying his best to coach him about how to best proceed with this situation. Of course, it was entirely up to Taehyung how he wanted to do this, but Jin could afford to sprinkle in a little bit of help.

"You're really sure about this, right? I don't want her to get hurt again. Y/N deserves all the best, and if a man were to ever come into her life, I'd want him to take good care of her and spoil her without her having to ask for it. I'd want him to be sure of her and to never make her question her worth." Taehyung nodded.

"I hear you, and I'm sure. It's scary, but I want to do this with her."

#bts #bts fanfiction #kim taehyung #taehyung #taehyung fanfiction #taehyung x reader #kth x reader #kth series #kim taehyung series #writing #perfectly wrong

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omgrachwrites · 4 years ago

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Our Souls Crave This Magic - Chapter Nine

Pairing: Prince Caspian x Reader

Summary: All you want is a quiet year of university as you and your best friend, Edmund move to New York City. Though, that all changes when you meet the spoiled trust fund brat, Caspian. College au.

Warnings: fluff, swearing, slight mentions of sex,angst

Disclaimer: All main characters are 18+ and this gif doesn’t belong to me!

Words: 2490

A/N: Wowie, actually on time this week! Hope you guys enjoy this part and please let me know what you think, and let me know if you would like to be tagged, I love you all! xxx

previous chapter masterlist next chapter

Chapter Nine - Christmas-Time

Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as your body thrummed with need when you felt Caspian’s gentle fingers linger on your lower back as you unlocked the door to the loft and walked inside. If Caspian hadn’t been staying at the loft over the Christmas break then you would have been able to control your feelings of lust a little bit more. Knowing that Caspian was only a couple of rooms away made your blood boil with desire and it made you clench your thighs together.

Even when you hated Caspian you had always thought he was attractive, in fact you could say that he was breathtakingly beautiful. Now, that you were feeling more kindly towards him and you now that you had opened up to him, it seemed that your attraction to him had increased tenfold. You were so thankful that Ed and Lucy hadn’t been waiting up to see how the date went.

With a shaky smile, you turned to look at Caspian to find that he was already grinning as he gazed at you, “I surprisingly had a good time tonight,” you let out a nervous chuckle. You weren’t usually like this; you almost hated what he was doing to you.

Caspian laughed out loud as he raised an eyebrow, “surprisingly? You really know how to make a guy feel special, Y/N. We should do this again, if you’d like to?” his eyes were wide, almost looking vulnerable.

You smirked, you did actually want to go out with him again but you weren’t about to give yourself away this early on, “I’ll have to think about that one,” you teased, “I did have a good time though,” you admitted with a soft smile, “thank you.”

Caspian beamed and it lit up his face as he reached out and cupped your cheek, “no problem, I had a good time too, thank you for opening up to me.”

You smiled as you shrugged nonchalantly, “it really wasn’t a big deal,” it was a big deal but you didn’t want him to know that, but you suspected that he already knew.

“It was to me,” he grinned, rubbing his thumb over your bottom lip.

With a deep breath, you stood up on your tiptoes and pressed your lips against his. The two of you were gently kissing for a couple of minutes before the tip of Caspian’s tongue teased the seam of your lips. You smiled against his slightly chapped lips as you opened your mouth, kissing Caspian was intoxicating.

Caspian made a soft noise in the back of his throat as your tongue brushed against kiss. He deepened the kiss even more as his hand slid down to cup your neck, just resting his hand there as your pulse jumped beneath his fingers. When the lack of oxygen became too much of an issue you pulled away from each other. Caspian’s lips were swollen and his eyes were clouded with lust, you could only imagine that you looked the same.

He chuckled as he ran a hand though his now messy hair, running his tongue across his swollen bottom lip, “wow.”

You laughed as you smoothed down his shirt that you’d been clutching between your fingers, “you said it,” you giggled.

Caspian smiled as he kissed your forehead, “I was um gonna watch a movie in the spare room. Do you want to join me?” he bit his lip, suddenly looking nervous, “I promise there will be no funny business,” he laughed, holding up his hands.

You bit your lip to hide the grin on your face and you tried to push the excited feeling down to the pit of your stomach. What had he turned you into? You knew that if you were going to be alone with him in a room with a bed, you wouldn’t be able to resist him. You didn’t want to do anything that you couldn’t come back from.

“It’s sweet of you to offer but I should probably get some sleep, I’m working the day shift at Aslan’s tomorrow.”

He nodded with a smile, “of course. Goodnight, Y/N,” he cupped your cheek again and pressed a lingering kiss to your lips.

“Night, Caspian,” you smiled before walking off to bed. You felt slightly dazed and light headed as you got dressed for bed. With a happy sigh you climbed into bed and hugged your pillow, you were glad that you’d given him a chance. You just hoped that it wouldn’t end in tears.

The next morning at breakfast, Edmund smirked as he served chocolate chip pancakes. Meanwhile, Lucy looked between you and Caspian with a delighted look on her face, “did you two have a good night last night then?”

You and Caspian flushed as you exchanged a quick glance with one another before you both averted your eyes, “we did,” you mumbled.

Your answer seemed to satisfy Lucy because she let out a delighted little sigh as she looked at you and Caspian with a wistful longing look on her face. A couple of days before Christmas, you were making cinnamon and ginger cookies while you and Lucy shared a pitcher of homemade eggnog, though it was mostly just alcohol at this point. You were feeling rather giddy and light headed as you looked over to where Caspian was drinking whiskey with Ed. Later on, you would say that it was the alcohol talking but you thought he just looked beautiful with rosy cheeks and bright eyes.

A knock on the door pulled you out of your thoughts and you felt your cheeks heat up as you went to grab the door. A FedEx guy was outside and he nodded at you with a bored look on his face, “are you, Y/N Y/L/N?” when you nodded, he gestured at a huge cardboard box on the ground and he handed you the clipboard, “sign your name at the bottom.”

You scrawled your signature on the form as you frowned at the box, wondering what it could be. You certainly hadn’t ordered anything, “thanks,” you forced a smile at the delivery guy as you gave him back the clipboard, “Merry Christmas.”

“Yeah, you too,” he sighed and you dragged the heavy box into the loft.

Ed whistled as he drained the tumbler of whiskey, “okay, what the fuck is that?” he asked, slurring his words slightly.

“I have no idea,” you giggled and proceeded to unpack the box, “I haven’t even ordered anything,” you gasped happily, feeling elated as you saw what was in the box and with Lucy’s help, you pulled it out.

It was a gorgeous vintage vinyl record player that you’d had your eye on for ages actually, you’d been trying to save up for it. Alongside the record player there were classic rock records and collections that you hadn’t been able to find anywhere.

“Oh my God! I love it!” Lucy gasped while the boys looked on in awe.

Edmund was the first one to speak up, “woah, someone must really like you, Y/N, those things aren’t cheap,” he whistled and raised an eyebrow at Caspian.

Caspian shook his head, “it’s not from me,” he gave you a dazzling grin with a wink to go alongside it, “though I do like you, Y/N, you know that.”

You smiled and laughed as you saw there was a letter inside the box, you plucked it out and gave it a read as your blood ran cold and tears stung at your eyes. You felt the smile slip from your face.

Lucy bit her lip and looked at you, “are you alright, Y/N?”

You looked up at your friends who were giving you worried glances, “it’s from my dad,” you scoffed, “my mum gave him the address,” you looked away from them so you wouldn’t have to see the sympathetic looks on their faces, “I’m gonna put this shit in my room,” you smiled tightly, before dragging your stuff off to your room.

Silent tears fell down your face as you read your dad’s cursive script with your heart aching. Why had he reached out to you now? Why hadn’t he tried to contact you before?

A few moments later, a soft kind voice came from behind you, “are you okay?” You nodded, keeping your back to Caspian so he wouldn’t see your tears, “what are you going to do?”

You shrugged, “I really don’t know, Caspian,” you sighed hopelessly.

------------------------------------

Caspian lined up his shot on the pool table and sunk the pool ball perfectly into the opposite hole and he smirked over at Edmund, twirling his pool cue. Ed scowled at him as he chalked the tip of his pool cue before moving on to sink his ball. Edmund had invited Caspian for a night out at Aslan’s to play pool. Caspian had accepted – even though he was awful at pool – and to be honest, he also wanted to keep an eye on Y/N to make sure she was okay. He hated seeing her so upset about the fact that her dad had got in touch with her again after years.

Ed scoffed as he failed to sink his ball and he glared at Caspian, “I thought that you were meant to be rubbish at pool.”

Caspian shrugged, he had always been rubbish at it growing up, “I must have gotten better,” Caspian smirked as he drained the last of his beer and Edmund narrowed his eyes at him.

“You better not be hustling me, I’ll never forgive you, otherwise.”

Caspian grinned, “I promise you that I’m not.”

Ed huffed as he rolled his eyes and it looked like he didn’t believe Caspian, “make yourself useful and go grab us another round of beers. I know that you’ve been dying to go and see, Y/N. You are so whipped mate, and you’re not even properly dating yet,” Ed smirked.

This time it was Caspian’s turn to scowl at his friend, pushing his hair away from his face, “I am not whipped, I just like her, that’s all. What’s wrong with that? And you’re one to talk, I’m pretty sure if Lilly told you to jump off the Brooklyn Bridge, you’d do so without a second thought, so don’t talk to me about being whipped,” Caspian teased.

“Yeah, yeah. Just fuck off and get us some more drinks,” Ed laughed and Caspian punched him in the arm playfully.

Caspian made his way across the incredibly sticky floor to get to the bar. The beer that was sold at Aslan’s was little more than swill but it was lethal, after a couple of pints of it, it caused such a buzz that the customers usually didn’t care about the taste. Again, Caspian thought that he was never going to be in here willingly, it was amazing how far he’d come in the past few months. They’d all come pretty far.

Y/N smiled, her face lighting up as Caspian reached the bar and she leaned against the bar, crossing one foot over the other, looking effortlessly cool and gorgeous, “want another round?” she asked as she leaned over the bar to kiss his cheek.

Caspian’s cheeks flushed and he nodded over at her, “please love and add a shot of tequila for Ed.”

Y/N giggled as she moved around the bar to pour the drinks, “is he pissing you off?”

Caspian rolled his eyes and nodded, “yes, I love him, he’s one of my best friends but he really is pissing me off,” he chuckled, “what time do you get off tonight?”

“Uh,” Y/N mumbled as she looked at the clock, “in about an hour and a half.”

Caspian nodded with a smile, “want to go and get some food?” he was a lot more confident asking her out now they’d had a couple of dates.

“Oh, God yes! I’m so hungry,” she smiled as she placed the drinks in front of him, “I would love to get food.”

Her smile was wide and it made the edges of her eyes crinkle so Caspian knew that she wasn’t forcing it, she seemed to feel a lot better about the situation with her dad, “how are you over this whole thing with your dad? Is it any clearer for you on what to do?”

She sighed as she worried at her bottom lip with her teeth, “he says he wants to meet up with me to explain some things but I’m not sure whether I should meet him. Though, maybe I should hear him out. What do you think?”

Caspian was honoured that she was asking his advice, that she cared enough about his words, “I think you should meet him.”

Y/N smiled with a nod and there suddenly came a high pitched giggle and a shrill voice from somewhere behind Caspian, “what a dive bar! It’s a wonder anyone drinks here,” Caspian turned his head to see Evelyn walk in with one of her friends, almost wearing nothing. Caspian scowled as he rubbed his temples, he did not need this tonight.

Y/N’s nostrils flared as she looked at Evelyn angrily, “well, maybe you should fuck off.”

Evelyn laughed out loud as she looked at Y/N, her eyes sparkling in amusement, “touchy are we? I only came here to retrieve my man,” she wrapped an arm around Caspian’s arm which he immediately brushed off when he saw Y/N’s face fall.

“I’m not your man,” Caspian spoke through gritted teeth.

“Oh come on baby! Don’t you want to take me home?” she glanced at Caspian from beneath her eyelashes and Caspian was starting to get more and more pissed off.

“I’m staying; I don’t want anything to do with you.”

Instead of looking upset, Evelyn smirked as she trailed a red painted nail down his chest, “well when you tire of eating trash, you know where to find me,” she shot a sneer at Y/N before walking out of the bar.

“I fucking hate her,” Y/N sighed as she glared after Evelyn’s retreating back but her gaze softened when she looked at Caspian with a soft smile.

“Yeah, so do I,” Caspian chuckled as he rubbed the back of his neck, feeling guilty but he was going to tell Y/N the truth, he was going to tell her the truth soon.

When Caspian walked back over to Edmund, Edmund glared at him and it was clear that he’d seen the whole scene with Evelyn, “you’re not messing around with Evelyn are you? Y/N is my best friend and if you hurt her, I will actually kill you and make it look like an accident. She’s had too much heartbreak for one lifetime.”

Caspian huffed out a laugh but Ed’s face didn’t budge and Caspian sighed when he realised that he meant it, “I’m not going to hurt her, and I’m certainly not messing around with Evelyn, I promise," for what it was worth, that was the truth.

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@smiithys @elayneblack @amelie-black @generalblizzarddreamer @blackbirddaredevil23 @whiskeywinter89 @graciehams @multilovebot @just-arandomwriter

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jo-the-schmo · 5 years ago

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Red, Dead, Reflections Ch. 1

A/N: Alright so... I started writing this fic over a year ago, and was posting it as I wrote it. I fell out of it for a few reasons but I’ve missed it. So I decided to start writing it again. The original versions of the first 5 chapters already exist on my blog but I want to repost them and do some editing. This way I can make the series more polished. I also want to try and do a once a week maybe schedule to give me some time in between writing chapters and so I can take some feedback into consideration.I hope some of the people who originally wanted to keep up with my series see this and I want to apologize for falling back on this. I feel really bad about it. I’ll try harder to commit to this. Thank you so much for being interested in my work. If anyone would like to be tagged just let me know, I don’t wanna assume the people who did before want to now.

Summary: At the age of 23, you and your pseudo-family perform a heist gone wrong, leading you into a dangerous and seemingly impossible position. Discover your own history, the story of those around you, and gain new relationships along the way in this (sorta) choose your own adventure.

Warnings: Explicit language, blood, death, violence

Word count: 5,988

From Out West

“This is a little too ballsy for my liking, Austin.” You warned as you carefully adjusted the colored contact lenses in your eyes.

“Since when did you turn into a little pussy-willow?” He smirked at you while he turned a corner.

“This is a bank, not a home robbery, so forgive me if I’m a tad nervous about this! We’re robbing a god damn bank in the 21st century, in a busy city that we aren’t necessarily familiar with!”

“Maybe you aren’t familiar, you know I’m a regular ol’LA boy.” You turned your head to look at the two in the backseat.

“Miguel, you can’t seriously be okay with this.” You questioned but were confident in it enough to make it a statement. He shrugged his shoulders, making that confidence literally evaporate.

“We gotta trust Austin, as crazy as this plan is. We haven’t gotten caught yet.” You crossed you arms and made sure your wig was pinned right.

“Doesn’t mean we won’t be startin’ now.” You grumbled.

“Come on, sissy! This plan is fool-proof! They’ll never even know it was us!” Eli chirped.

“Oh yeah, except for the fact that this is a fucking bank and the FBI CAN get on our asses for this!” You swore it was exhausting being the only realistic one sometimes. “On top of that, there’s only 5 of us! We’re insane!”

“6.” Austin corrected.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Your girlfriend won’t be in the damn room with us.”

“She’s the ace up our sleeves, it would be silly for her to be in there with us.” The car smelled like old cigarettes, it made you sick. The band around your chest dug into your ribs. You opted to stay silent and relent for the time being, instead focusing on your disguise. The wig was carefully pinned to your real hair, it was short enough to be confused for a men’s haircut but had enough length to not require any glue. Dark brown hair, abnormally vibrant green eyes. And with the mask covering your face, that would be their only descriptions they could give to the police. Flat chest, boyish haircut, baggy black hoodie, just your average deviant. The destination was in view.

“Alright,” Austin started. “everyone knows the plan, yeah? Gina is inside, she’ll send us the signal. We go in quick and make our presence known. I go behind the counter to make sure the tellers ain’t up to no funny shit. Miguel, you round up the lovely citizens into a corner, hit Gina a little to make it convincing. Eli, you take care of the money. And Y/N, I need you to stay in character, be loud and intimidating, keep the tellers in check when I’m helpin’ Eli, and the civils with Miguel, got it?” You all nodded. He looked back at Miguel. “You got the fake bomb ready?”

“Yes’ir.”

“I’ll pass the big boss to you once I pick him out. Zoe is waiting for us in the alleyway between the bank and the office building. We get in, make some noise, scare them shitless, get the money, and go.” He parked up front of the white walls, you saw a mother walk through the glass doors with her toddler in a stroller. You immediately felt bad.

“You promise this is the last job, right?” You looked at him seriously. “At least the last of something this big, I don’t think I could handle with again.”

“Of course! This is just to get us enough money to get us all out. The economy is garbage, think of it as taking what should already be ours.” You heard the crackle of the walkie on Austin’s lap. He threw it into his bag. “That’s the signal, masks on everyone.” Austin’s was a fox, long, fake salt and pepper hair rolled form under his hood. Eli’s was a raccoon, convincing copper bangs swooped between the ears. Miguel had an owl; disturbing blue eyes pierced your being. You strapped on your black dove and joined with group as they exited the stolen vehicle. You kept both your hands in the front pocket of your hoodie, trying to be discrete about the two handguns inside. Only one was loaded with real bullets, that was the backup, You preferred to use the blanks. Unable to trace, and when used properly, won’t hurt anyone. Austin and Eli took the leads.

The doors were kicked in.

“EVERYONE GET ON THE FUCKING GROUND RIGHT NOW! HANDS UP, ALL YOU! THIS IS A ROBBERY!” He screamed, pointing his gun at a man behind the counter about 3 yards away. Miguel was quick to shout at the people in line to get into the corner of the room. Gina pretended to try and defy, he slaps her, needless to say it’s convincing.

“Dove, handle the worms.” You traded spots as Austin grabbed one of the men behind the counter. Your eyes locked with the poor woman, she was covering the stroller with her torso. You pointed your blank gun at some random person.

“Stay on the ground or I’ll fucking shoot, ya hear me?” You lowered your voice, made it coarser, time to be a ‘man’. They nodded hysterically. The woman was crying. You could hear Eli screaming his demands in a fake accent. “Everyone hand over your phones. If any of you give me a reason to even SUSPECT you’re up to anything, I will shoot.” Everyone put their phones on the ground and slid them over toward you. You turned your attention to the back. “What’s the hold up, owl?”

“I’m handling it.” He strapped the fake bomb to the teller’s chest, making him kneel down in the middle of the bank. “Listen up, everyone! This man has a bomb attached to his body. We have someone hacked into the security cameras. If you don’t follow our instructions to the T, they will blow a hole in this lot.” He paused to let the cries and gasps die out. “Now, for those said instructions, listen close. We will exit the building soon, you will stay down for 5 minutes.” He pointed at a clock on the wall. “Do not touch anything or move a muscle. When 5 minutes have passed, the big guy here-“ He patted the man’s shoulders and dropped a key wrapped in tissue in his lap. “will take a little drive off the premises. He will keep going until he reaches the designated location written on that tissue. If any of you contact the police before the end of the day, he will die, along with any other drivers in his vicinity. So, unless you want a substantial amount of blood on your hands, I’d suggest you keep quiet until midnight. As for the rest of you, you have permission to leave the building once that 5 minutes are up. But I would suggest keeping a low profile, for your safety and others’.” There was a loud crack.

“I got it!” The phony Australian accent rang. Austin led the rest of the bank tellers to you, making them sit in the flood of civils.

“Staying alert, Dove?”

“Don’t patronize me, stupid Fox.” This whole situation pissed you off. The baby was crying, mom was too, trying to hush the whines.

“Fire a shot, Dove!” What? “Don’t let their insubordination stand.” He demanded. This was a fear tactic. He was trying to teach a lesson to the others.

“I’m not firing a warning shot over a fucking baby, you psycho!” Your blood was boiling, this was overkill, he was way out of line with this. Of course, he wasn’t telling you to shoot the baby or the mother, but you weren’t going to cause more grief where it didn’t need to be.

“Take the shot!”

“Fuck you!”

“Why are you going against me?” Was he seriously doing this now? You felt like your head was going to explode. She was the only person with a child present. You put both of your pieces back in your hoodie and knelt next to her. She flinched as you approached, but that was to be expected.

“Ma’am, I’m making an exception for you because you have a child with you, and that prick is really getting on my last nerve. You’re allowed to exit the building now, but the other rules still apply. People will die if you talk, maybe not you, but other people who have children like you do, most certainly. Take your kid and get out, don’t do anything out of the ordinary, and get out.” Her red eyes shook you to your core, familiarity. She nodded in both fear and appreciation.

“Than-than-thank y-“ She was choking on her own misfortune, you decided to spare her.

“Yeah, yeah, just get out.” She got up and collected herself, checking around the room as she walked out of the building. You could only see his eyes, but you could tell Austin was reaching his limit fast. An older gentleman stared at you.

“At least one of you has a heart.” You were glad Austin was too focused on being pissed to hear that. You got up, kicking the phones toward the door as you walked. Austin grabbed you arm.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill her for that.” By letting that woman go, you showed weakness. It was a hint at your identities, but you didn’t care.

“And you’re lucky I’m not shooting you for saying that. I’m not a killer like you, Fox.” Your voice was laced with venom. Eli had interrupted your dispute.

“Alright lovebirds, time to play nice, we’ve got precious cargo.” He gave both of you a duffle bag, they were pretty hefty. Austin took a deep breath, putting on his best showman voice.

“Alright folks! That right there is our cue to hit the road. Remember, 5 minutes on the clock. No one likes a-“ The doors were filled with red and blue, sirens. The police were here. “Shit!” Shit was right. “How the hell are they here?” Austin screamed. He gave you a shove. “It’s probably because of that god damn woman!”

“There’s no way she would’ve had enough time for that.”

“And no one had a phone out, I was watching the whole time.” Miguel chimed.

“We have bigger fish to fry right now! We gotta go.” You all dashed over to the back door, all you had to do was move towards the alley, if you could just get to the dump van, everything would be fine. Drive up to get the real car, leave that one with no prints or hair, and you’d be home free. The 4 of you booked it out the door. But the van was no where to be seen, instead, there were about 3 cops on either side which was 6 in total, trapping you in.

“They must’ve got Zoe!” Yeah, no shit.

“Put your hands up!” You all raised your arms, except of course for Austin. You kicked his calf. He didn’t budge. “I said put your god damn hands up!”

“In case you didn’t notice, pal, there’s a bomb in that building. If you don’t let us pass, I’ll blow that building out of existence, along with the man attached to it.” He pointed his gun to one of the cops to your left. “So, I suggest you let us through, or else you’re gonna piss me off more than I already am.”

“We know the bomb is fake, drop to your knees or we will shoot!” Another one barked. Someone had ratted you out. You looked at Miguel and Eli, you weren’t letting this go down, not by a long shot. You tuned out Austin’s ramblings and whispered to the other two.

“Be ready to run. I’m gonna buy you guys some time. Don’t kill any of them, disarm them.”

“What the hell are you talking about, Y/N?” Miguel questioned with panic. You took a deep breath.

“Thank you for being my family.” You swept your leg behind Austin’s knees, and he collapsed to the ground as you stood.

The world slowed to a crawl, pulling a gun out of your pocket, these were real bullets. You’ve never missed a target. You drew the attention of all 6 police officers, but no amount of training could prepare them. You fired 3 shots, each one hitting the hands of the officers Austin had been talking to. Their weapons fell from their hands. You felt bodies push past your legs, down the alley way away from the bank. You were glad the streets of LA were confusing. Now was the time. You whipped your body around to face the rest of the officers, firing rapidly at their shins. You weren’t gonna put blood on your hands.

But deep down you knew, there was no making out of this one. You would buy them a few minutes while trying to subdue you. Just as your haphazard shots began, they fired precise ones of their own. Two passed through your skull, three in your chest, and one got a through almost half of your jugular. Both pieces fell away from you as gravity swaddled you. Bits of your wooden mask, blood, head pushing back unnaturally, seeing the backs of your made family run, they were almost home free. There was no pain after that point, you waited patiently for your back to hit the ground beneath you, but it never did. You kept falling.

And falling.

The midday light felt like it was slipping away, there were leather walls encompassing your lifeless form. No sound, no sense of texture, just the smell of dirt and decay. Then there was nothing but darkness, but that void that beckoned you, that pulled at your very being, was gone just as quick as it appeared.

Your body shot forward with a violent intake for air. The gasps filled your lungs to the brim, your chest and head ached, throat tight. The coughing erupted from deep in your chest, which also held a different pain from the ever-tightening band around it. You threw you hoodie away and made quick work of loosening it just a bit, and in doing so noticed that your body was free of any physical wounds. There was still a soreness, and blood wiped off your skin, but there were no open wounds. You were incredibly cold, and at first you assumed that to be attributed to your near-death experience, until you looked up high to see to see an open window with snow falling outside.

“I don’t think we’re in California anymore.” You muttered to yourself. You shivered, the place was covered in hay and in low light, that’s when the smell hit you. It reeked of animals, that would probably have something to do with the fact that you’re in a barn. Shakily, you got to your feet. Knees wobbling, your eyes adjusted, there were horses. That certainly explained the stench. A chill ran up your spine, the cold tickling at your vertebrae. You scanned the room for where you had tossed your hoodie, only to find it in a horse’s mouth. Your eyes widened in fear. “No, no, no, no, no, no!” You exclaimed. You rushed forward and grasped at the hanging sleeve, tugging on it with all your strength. “Drop it! Drop it right now!”

The horse did not listen, in fact, now it seemed more hellbent on consuming the thick material. After hurtling a few curses at the horse, you heard a distinct rip. You fell back, the remnants of black cloth now in tatters. You let out a muffled scream of frustration. Even with the long sleeves of your cotton shirt, you were still freezing. It suddenly struck you how odd it is for it to be snowing at all. You figured you weren’t in California anymore, but you were somewhere that snows in the middle of May? How far were you? You couldn’t think of any states that snowed this late in the year. Were you in Maine? Up north, Canada? How did you even get here?

“Did those idiots come back to get me? I could’ve sworn…” You could’ve sworn they ran like you told them to, and that you had experienced several fatal injuries. Is this hell? Purgatory? The other side? It was cold enough to be Hell that’s for sure. Nothing made sense. You found your mask on the ground, chunks of the painted wood were replaced with vacant space, splintered bullet holes. You fastened it to the first belt loop, it rested against your left pant leg. Pins dug into your scalp, wigs still surprisingly attached to your head. Your eyes watered, your contacts were drying out. You opted take them out now rather than waste your time trying to find drops in a barn. You flicked them away once they were out. “Now, if there’s a barn with animals, there’s gotta be a house with people.” You walked over to the large wooden doors as your talked to yourself, but today just had to be the worst day of your life. Something landed on top of you, or more accurately someone.

You were surprised you didn’t feel any cracks as the weight crashed on you. Shifting your weight over, you elbowed the man in the jaw. He rolled off of you with a grunt of pain. You were quick to jab him in the stomach with the toe of your boot. Sputtering a cough with saliva dripping out the mouth, the man rushed to stand. He was trying to fight.

“You’re on the wrong side of the mountains, partn’r.” He slurred. “This here is O’Driscoll territory, Which you don’t got no business bein’ in.” I’m in the mountains? Where the hell- He didn’t give you enough time to finish that thought before he was throwing a punch at you. If this basic boy thinks he can step in my personal space, he’s got another thing coming. You blocked the fist with your forearm and redirected the force toward the ground. With the base of your wrist, you hit his throat. The force of your own strength and the ever so impeccable sense of gravity caused him to wheeze, choke, and writhe on the ground.

“Listen here, buddy,” you pressed your boot down on his chest “I have no idea where the hell I am right now. I don’t give a single shit about territory or whatever the fuck you’re going on about, but if you put your hands on me again, I’m gonna mangle your entire lower half with a rake.” You applied more weight. “I didn’t come here of my own volition, someone put me here. Which means, you’re little punk ass better tell me what’s going on or get out of my way so I can-“ Gunshots. Mystery man took your distraction as an opportunity to wriggle out form under you. They were ceaseless, did someone drop you off in the middle of a gang war, what the hell is going on? You were about to duck behind whatever cover was around you if the idiot of the room had decided he didn’t learn his lesson.

“Are you with those crazies?” He yelled, peeking out the barn doors for only a second. “I should’ve known.” His voice was cold and malicious. “You’re with that son of a bitch, Dutch!”

“Who?”

“Don’t play dumb with me, pretty boy, they must’ve sent you up to spy on us! I’m gonna kill you for-“

“I literally have no idea what’s going on!” But he wasn’t listening to reason, clocked you in the ribs before you got the chance to block, then using your surprise to his advantage, hit you on the nose. There was a familiar crack and blood rush. “Did you just fucking break my nose, you ass?” You screeched toward the ground, wiping away the blood.

You took him off guard by doing that, so you were quick to knock him in the jaw. The shooting stopped but you were a little preoccupied and decided not to waste anymore time. His arm bent to caress the side of his face. You rushed forward, lacing your arm between the gap his made. Using all your weight, you swung your legs out and forced him to drop to the ground. His back slammed forcefully and with a swift adjustment, your shins trapped his neck, locking him in place. You squeezed his neck enough to make him gasp. He tried to push away from you, but with the position you left him in, there’s no way he’d be able to without some sort of outside assistance.

“Who are you calling pretty boy now? Huh? Who, bitch boy?” You heard the door start to open, you let lose and pulled the man up to shield you, locking his head so that you peek between a gap in your arm and his head. A man wearing a blue coat and hat walked in, his hands resting on his belt.

“Well, well, what have we got ourselves here?” You couldn’t quite place his accent. You noticed he had a holster.

“Don’t fuck with me, dude. I’ve got your friend trapped between me and you. No need to make this get crazy.” You warned, tightening your grip to enunciate your point. What sounded almost like a chuckle escaped his throat.

“You must not be an O’Driscoll if you think he’s my friend.” You panicked, you tried to think of your next move, but he had plans of his own. “What’s your name, son?” Your suspicions were correct, it seems. This isn’t the first time someone’s confused you for a man, especially when you were trying so hard to not look like yourself. But maybe, you could use this to your advantage.

“James West.” That was Austin’s code name for danger. If someone introduced you or called any of you James, it meant they weren’t trust worthy. You and Gina would usually use Jamie, but now James felt like the safer option.

“Now how in the hell did you get involved in this, West?” He rested his hip against one of the stable posts.

“I have no idea.” You threw the man away from you, there was no point holding him anymore. “I woke up here, and this guy just started attacking me.” You thought for a moment. “Are you Dutch?” You asked. This time, it was a single, hearty-

“HA!” He had a spark in his eye. “Me? Dutch? I ain’t that old yet, kid.” You rolled your eyes and pulled yourself up.

“Well, my nose is broken because this little shit thought I was with you, so I have some choice words for this ‘Dutch’.” You huffed. “And don’t call me ‘kid’.” You brushed your fingers across the bridge of your nose, preparing yourself for what you were about to do. One deep breath in, out, pop. You pushed your nose back into place and winced. A wad of blood shot out. “Jesus shit!” You coughed, you never get used to having to do that. The blue coat cowboy looking mother-fucker looked semi-impressed.

“Well, I’m not Dutch, but you could sure meet him if it pleases.” Something caught his attention. “Speak of the devil…” The door opened again. A man walked in with very distinct black hair. He was also a cowboy looking mother-fucker. Oh god, am I in yeeyee country? His eyes immediately locked on you.

“Did you cause this mess, Arthur? Or have we just met a new friend?” The man who you presumed to be Dutch, had a deeper voice than the man apparently called Arthur, but their accents were similar. That was not promising for you.

“That depends, his name is West, James West. I walked in a right fine mess between him and that there O’Driscoll.” Arthur pointed to the man still struggling to steady himself. Dutch choked a deep laugh, he seemed more amused than Arthur was.

“Right fine is right, Arthur. You did this?” He asked. You nodded reluctantly. “You’re a good fighter, boy. Real good, it seems.” He strode over to the guy on the floor and picked him up by the collar, tossing him over to Arthur. “Morgan, you deal with this trash while I talk to our new pal.” Dutch walked over to you, confidence in his step, while Arthur threw the man back on the ground. He wrapped an arm around your shoulder and shook you around a bit. “James West, huh?”

“Yeah, what’s it to ya?”

“Oh, this boy’s got spunk, Morgan!” You looked over and saw Arthur yanking the man around by the shirt. Dutch forced your attention back to him. “Now West, you’ve gotta understand our position here. We can tell clear as day you ain’t involved in a lick of this mess. But we don’t have a single clue as to what your business is up here. Now, you seem like a considerate young man, but I got worried folks on this mountain, and I can’t have no scamps running around and hellraising” He squeezed your shoulder. “So, don’t take any offense to what I’m about to ask, but what are you doing up here?” He looked you dead in the eyes. In your opinion, the question was fair. You couldn’t fully let your guard down, but they appeared to not be whoever put you here. Then again, these O’Driscoll’s didn’t seem to be either.

“I can’t give you an answer to that one, Mr. …?”

“Van Der Linde.” That’s one hell of a name.

“Mr. Van Der Linde. Frankly, I have no damn clue why I’m here. One minute, I’m getting shot down in the middle of the day, and then I wake up trapped in some barn in the middle of bumfuck nowhere, in what looks like the ass end of winter. So, I’m a little confused right now to say the least.” You were clearly frustrated with your situation, he wasn’t oblivious to it.

“Where are you from, son?”

“California.” That was a safe enough answer.

“James West from out West. That’s certainly an opener.” He scratched his chin. “I’m gonna put you to a test young man.” He turned you around and lead you over to where Arthur had just gotten off the now bloody man. He was whimpering, begging under his breath for mercy.

“I don’t think he’s got much to say, Dutch. They apparently happened upon this place and took it over. That’s all I’m getting’”

“I’m going to give our new young friend a choice.” He pulled a revolver out of his holster and held the handle out to you. “In normal circumstances, I’d let Arthur handle this situation himself. But I’ve got an itching curiosity with you, kid.” You felt obligated to hold it in your hand. Looking down at the man, pity flared in your chest. “Should we kill him, or let him go? I’m letting you make the call.” What kind of question was this? Who were these guys? The choice wasn’t very difficult, you’d be a hypocrite if you did otherwise, and you weren’t compromising your promise on the off chance these guys might not like your opinion.

You handed the gun back to Dutch.

“Just because he’s an asshole, doesn’t mean he deserves to die. Let him go.” Dutch was intrigued by your answer. He looked over to Arthur with a smirk.

“I think I like kid!”

“Please don’t call me ‘kid.” You requested. Arthur pulled the man to his feet and threw him outside.

“Get outta here before he regrets it.” The man darted into the snow, leaving a trail behind him.

“Grab the horse, Arthur. We gotta get something out of this.” You were lead outside to find a horrific scene, bodies were strewn about the snowy landscape. Whoever these guys were, they were not to be trifled with. You should play this safe.

There was a house not too far away, the snow was dense. It was more than freezing. You sent a glare to the horse Arthur led past you. You’ll pay for this, you dumb fucking horse. With your adrenaline dying down, your whole being felt frozen.

“Normally, I wouldn’t be one for disrupting dead for anything other than money, but you’ll die out here without something warm, Mr. West.” Dutch gestured to one of the several bodies riddled through the snow. You swallowed the lump in your throat, trying your best not to think about how you were robbing from dead people. It wouldn’t be the first time, but you still didn’t feel good about it. You separated from him and carefully stepped around the bodies littered in the snow. You found a man with his face in the snow, you pretty much picked him so you wouldn’t have to see his face as you stripped him of his coat. It didn’t look particularly warm initially, but anything would be better than this. The arms bent limply back as you peeled the sleeves away. Luckily upon further inspection, you were happy to learn there was a sort of wool lining inside, that would at least help insulate your own body heat. A sudden commotion broke out from inside the rustic home. A man yelling for Dutch and a woman screaming. Your instincts made you spring into action, you lept through large portions of the snow to make it to the steps faster and before you knew it you were bursting through the door. A blonde man wearing another cowboy-looking hat was chasing a woman around a table.

“What the hell are you doing, Micah?” Arthur questioned as him and Dutch followed you in.

“We got a feisty one over here, boys!” He hollered. Oh, you were not comfortable with this type of language.

“Stop chasing the poor woman, ya moron!” He warned with more intensity. You weren’t gonna see this go down, that’s for sure. You ran up behind the man called Micah, grabbed his collar, and used his weight to pull his back towards you, and then to the ground. His body slammed, he let out a surprised yelp, followed by a pained groan.

“Fucking sicko! Stop chasing her around, she’s scared!”

“Get out of my house!” The woman bellowed. Admittedly, you had no idea what was going on, but you knew you could at least try and defuse the situation. You put your hands up to appear less threatening.

“Miss, I don’t know who you are or what in God’s name is going on, but I promise I am not here to hurt you.” You spoke to her in a calm voice. Whatever was going on, it clearly had her frazzled. “I don’t have any weapons, and I don’t make it habit of hurting people who don’t need hurting. You clearly have been hurting for no reason. Can you explain to me what’s happened so that I can help you with this situation?” You took a cautious step around the table to make sure she wouldn’t dart away from you, you kept steady eye contact.

“They…they killed my husband a few days ago! They took over my home and locked me in the basement!” She wept. Maybe these O’Driscolls were the ones to stow you in the barn, they sure seemed like the type with this new information.

“I’m so sorry for your loss, ma’am. I can assure you that those men won’t be bothering you anytime soon. Can you-“ You heard glass shatter, looking over, you found Micah scattering to his feet, fire was spreading from the floor to the wall at an incredible rate. It was already crawling up the right-side wall before you had a chance to react. There was no way you could put that out by yourself, and the others weren’t exactly jumping at the chance to help you. You settled on running to grab some blankets from the bed across the room. The boys were leading the woman out of the house and she reluctantly followed. Micah sent you a glare as you passed him out of the house. “Oh, don’t you look at me like that, you weren’t any help!” You knew you should keep your mouth shut, but you knew you were right on this one. The group was walking toward some horses, you followed behind.

“Micah, lead the horse back to camp.” You handed the blankets to the woman.

“Thank you.” She seemed genuine but was also hurt by your sentiments.

“It’s no problem, ma’am.”

“Adler, Sadie Adler is my name.” She wrapped herself in the blankets.

“Well, it’s no problem, Mrs. Adler. It’s the bare minimum to what I could’ve done.” You hoped whatever camp Dutch mentioned was close by. This cold was blistering.

“Mrs. Adler, you may ride with me, we’ll get you back to people who can help.” Dutch hopped up onto a white horse, lending a hand for Sadie to pull herself up. “Arthur, please take our new friend with you. I don’t think he’s in any shape to be riding.” Arthur nodded, heaving himself with ease onto a spotted mare? You couldn’t tell if it was a girl, but you just got that vibe. He did not give you a hand. Oh yeah, I’m a dude. A manly man. You gripped the back of the saddle and used all the arm strength you had to get onto the bare back on the horse. You hoped this ride wasn’t going to be too bumpy because you were not about to get punched because you had to grab onto this man and couldn’t tell if someone was a homophobe or not. You sure hoped these people weren’t, but you weren’t exactly in the position to be picky.

“Pearson’s not gonna happy about this.” Arthur mentioned as the horses pushed forward.

“Mr. Pearson isn’t happy about anything except his drink. He’ll be alright.” Now seemed like a good a time as any to start asking questions. They couldn’t go anywhere away from you at the moment.

“Not to interrupt or anything, but could someone tell me where I am, or what day it is. Could someone please tell me what the deal is?”

“We’re north of New Hanover if the maps are correct. We’re planning to head down there as soon as this winter passes. God knows how long that’s gonna take.” Dutch complained. You had never heard of New Hanover, but apparently it was winter. Maybe you really did get shot, put into a hospital maybe? Then these guys… You panicked for a second. O’Driscoll wasn’t another name for them was it? It didn’t make much sense but no one else would put this much effort into stealing you away. “As for the day, I couldn’t tell ya exactly. It’s winter in the year of our Lord 1899.” He laughed. What?

“What?”

“Ah, just bit of a joke, son. We live in dark times. We’re hurtling straight into a new century.” Wait was he joking or not joking?

“It’s 1899?” You tried to keep your voice neutral, but he seemed to pick up on your worry.

“Yes, it is, son.” He paused. “Are you alright?” You were anything but alright. These people are crazy, I’m trapped on a mountain with some insane cultists who think they’re in the 19th century, I’m fucked. “Arthur, we need to hurry, the boy’s looking pale.”

Your head felt fuzzy, colors were blurring together. I am not stuck on a god damn mountain in 1899, I’m not, that’s physically impossible. This is all a dream, or some weird set up. You felt like you were 19 again, disconnected, afraid, losing it. You weren’t gonna go back there again, you wouldn’t! You didn’t know you had stopped breathing. You didn’t feel Arthur’s arm catching you so you wouldn’t get trampled. Everything was black.

#rdr2 #rdr2 fanfic #arthur morgan #Dutch Van Der Linde #time travel au #red dead redemption 2 #Javier Escuella #Charles Smith #John Marston #sadie adler #mary-beth gaskill #hosea matthews #abigail marston #lenny summers #too many tags

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untaemedqueen · 5 years ago

Text

The Bird Cage

Mafia!Jimin x Reader

Chapter 21.

Warnings: Blood, Guns, Knives, Smoking (Cigarettes)

Tag-List: @imaforeigner, @q1st1na, @gensneverland, @autumnnflowers, @toddsgirl27, @yaniposts22, @babyboytae1, @dearlydreadful, @vivpurple7, @kthfeed, @probably-trying-too-hard, @si-deus-me-hanyu-senshu, @bts-chub, @ayyyocee, @taeslittletiger, @yeonkiminfr, @xcharlottemikaelsonx , @topthis808, @brilee64, @mini-coop25, @afangirllikeme-blog, @kpoppingthempills

"Rice, an omelette, kimchi and galbi-jjim!" You call out to Two with a mouthful of toothpaste. She looks wide-eyed at Jimin who looks up over his morning newspaper with a smirk.

"The baby is making her hungry." Two smiles before nodding.

"Yes, Sir!"

"Two!" You call to her as she opens the door. She tilts her head as you peak your head out from the bathroom.

"Make some stew and rice for Four, please." Jimin furrows his eyebrows as Two looks at you confused.

"Yes, Madam." Jimin puts down his newspaper as she exits the room before looking at his Rolex watch.

"Why the fuck are you feeding that bitch?" He asks loudly as you put on your dress. You walk out to him before showing him your back. He stands up, scraping the chair back loudly as he grabs your zipper. His lips pressing to the back of your neck as he zippers you up.

"Hmm? Why are you feeding her?"

"You know my saying." He hums in agreement.

"Something about flies. Honey more than bleach or whatever." You giggle as he hooks his arms around your waist before pulling you down into his lap.

"I'm going to be watching this interaction. If you even get an ounce of anger within you, you're done. You hear me? Done. You will not get angry with our child inside you." You could tell he was worried. He was up all night thinking about this morning. The dark purple bags under his small eyes were enough evidence alone.

"Do you hear me?" You nod before turning to him and kissing him sweetly.

"The baby can feel that anger and I won't have my child being in as much misery as the both of us were. Our baby deserves the best. They can hear us now y'know."

You went to the hospital a few days ago for your 11 week check up. The baby was growing fingers and toes. Their ears and brain were developing. And, if there is even a chance that this baby could hear you, Jimin wouldn't be having it. The baby is inside of you, it could probably feel your blood getting hot and angry and he would NOT have his child feeling you upset over anything.

"There has been so much death and misery in this fucking house." Jimin bawls up his hands into fists as a rage begins to grow.

"Our baby is going to bring happiness and joy to this house. I don't want it knowing anger and being upset." You kiss his temple as the veins in his neck begin to beat harder.

"I know, I know." You whisper soothingly as he rubs your stomach.

"I'm nervous enough as it is that the chamber is up here. Even the medical room. I mean what if the baby gets older, like 3 or 4 years old and Taehyung gets shot and needs Guk to sew him up. I don't want my child to see such gruesome stuff! Especially if it's a little girl." He mumbles putting his hand to his forehead, you stay quiet as he expresses his fears. You know how heavy Jimin's heart can get sometimes and it always comes out early in the morning or before you both go to sleep.

"I keep having these thoughts, these fucking thoughts, that if it's a boy. Okay, he'll grow into my legacy. He'll know my job, my fucking...fucking pain. But he shouldn't! He shouldn't ever know my pain, he shouldn't have to do this fucking shit. And if it's a girl-" Jimin grits his teeth, his jaw muscles flexing and tightening, "-fucking forget about it."

"Daddy's little princess?" Jimin chuckles before looking up at you.

"Damn right my little princess." He takes a sip of his screwdriver before sighing and rubbing his hands over his face.

"I just want them to be happy, y'know? Be a normal child. Be...Be free..." You smile down at him.

"My little bean deserves everything we couldn't have." You hum in agreement.

"They will. They'll have a great childhood." Jimin sighs before kissing your cheek and squeezing you tightly. "I hope so."

You step into the chamber with sweaty palms and a tray of food. It's been a long time since you've been in here.

"Hey." You whisper walking towards Four with the food.

"Brought you some real food." Four looks up at you, her lip bloody and her cheek swollen as you set the tray in front of her. And, for the first time you pull the chair from the corner of the room to sit closer to her.

"Why?" Her voice is hoarse and deep. You tilt your head.

"Why what?" She pulls the tray closer observing her meal.

"Why'd you bring me food?" You sigh as she begins to eat voraciously, the sight making your stomach uneasy. You could see her ribs through her chest and you know she hasn't been eating properly.

"I'm not a bad person Four, I've told you this." She hums uncertainly with a mouthful of food.

"You'll make yourself sick if you eat that quickly." She narrows her eyes at you menacingly and you hold your hands up. Out of the corner of your eye you see the camera in the corner of the room blinking steadily with a red light. Your husband is watching.

"Fuck, this is so good." She hums out before grabbing the glass of water on the tray. She looks at your stomach before tilting her head.

"So you are pregnant." You nod to her pressing your lips into a straight line as the room goes silent. Four puts her head against the wall before sighing.

"I didn't know you were pregnant. If I had known, I wouldn't have done that."

"I didn't know either so we're even, like I've said before." She snorts before rolling her head to the side to look at you.

"I did it because he told me Jimin deserved it." You lean back in the chair, now we're getting somewhere.

"The man you love?" She nods before licking at her chapped and cracked lips.

"Yes. Him." You hum to her.

"Do you think he loves you back." She laughs loudly folding her dirty arms.

"Y/N. Would I be in here if he loved me? I've been in here for months." You sigh folding your arms as well.

"I don't understand why he hated me enough to try and kill me." Four looks at you before shaking her head.

"No. He doesn't hate you, he hates Jimin and I had no intention of killing you. It was a watch your back sort of move. You know? Cutting your back open." You hum to her before feeling at the scar on your back.

"Why does he hate Jimin?" Four shrugs.

"I don't know. He just told me to do it and so I did. Because, I'm an idiot." Her face gives nothing away but you could hear the sorrow and anger in her voice and that is something to go on.

"He broke your heart." She rolls her eyes before sniffing.

"He promised me that he loved me so much. That I was his love from a past lifetime." You want to laugh but you don't, she is very naive and gullible. Incredibly so.

"Jimin told me he would give me the world. I still don't own it. Men lie, Four." You could practically hear his scoff through the metal walls and it makes you smirk.

"Of course they fucking do." She mumbles.

"You're talking a lot." You comment to her..

"Yeah, I've been stuck in here for months. Of course I'm talking. All Sir Jeongguk does is come in and hit me. Does that result in answers? No." You look up at the camera as she puts her head down before sticking out your tongue. A brat will be a brat through and through. If only Jimin would have let you come in sooner.

"He promised he would come back for me." You click your teeth before leaning forward pressing your hands together.

"Can I tell you something?" She looks up at you furrowing her eyebrows.

"Not a single Jung has come to retaliate against us since we began payback. No one has shot at us, tried to hurt us or even come to the house for their revenge."

She nods before sighing, "Yeah. I figured. I'm just an idiot who fell in love with a man because he smiled at me while I was wearing my uniform."

You can kind of understand her, it must be so lonely as a maid. You were almost one yourself a few months ago.

"You aren't an idiot. You're just...gullible." She sputters into a laugh as you smirk.

"Yeah. Thanks."

"I can get you the payback you deserve. If you tell me his name I can break his heart just like he did to you." She looks back down at the floor. You could see the cogs turning in her head as she thinks. Her eyes flickering from one floor tile to the other.

"He deserves to suffer for doing this. For fooling you, for hurting both of us." She puts her hands over her face as she sighs. You already know what you will do once you get the name. The plan is already made in your mind.

"You can do that?" You nod to her as she looks back up at you.

"I can. And, I will." She hums in agreement before putting her head back.

"What's it like to be pregnant?" She asks randomly as you sit back in your chair.

"I throw up a lot, pee a lot, hit Jimin a lot." She snorts and you smirk.

She was silent for some time. Never looking at you and always at the floor or the ceiling.

"I'll tell you his name. He deserves to suffer." She says folding her legs and sitting up properly.

"He will suffer, I promise you." She nods slowly.

"Jung Gyuhyung." You feel the relief rushing through your veins like heroin. A weight being lifted off of your shoulders as you sit back relaxed.

"Thank you, Four. I promise. He will suffer for this." She nods putting her lips into a straight line.

"There's one thing you should know." You raise an eyebrow at her voice. The comment intriguing as you clear your throat.

"He works for someone named Kim Youngju. Gyuhyung has said he's a fearsome leader. A man hell bent on Jimin's destruction." Kim Youngju?! He was supposed to be in a coma?! Jimin told you this months ago before the ball.

"Thank you for telling me." Four nods before touching her chapped lips.

"Give him hell. I'm sorry I hurt you. You're nice it was wrong of me." You give her a small smile before standing.

"I forgive you." You speak the truth and she seems to relax, there was no point in being ruthlessly angry at a naive girl who had her heart broken by a man who was manipulative. You put the chair back in the corner before leaving the room with high hopes.

You walk down the hallway to Jimin's office where he said he would be with the guys. Four was just a product of manipulation and you felt bad for her. She was too gullible to be helped and even still she would die for what she has done to you. Jimin wouldn't let her go since you were pregnant at the time of her assault on you.

You descend the stairs quickly rushing to get to Jimin. You finally got the name you had been dying for. You could proceed with events. You pass Hyejin as she leaves Taehyung's room. She gives an embarrassed giggle and you wink at her before opening up the office room.

As you open the door, the guys are all on their phones talking to someone. Jimin stares at the laptop screen before looking at you. He gives you a small smile as Namjoon hangs up his phone.

"We're finding him." Jimin breathes a sigh of relief before opening his arms.

"My Kitten. Always getting information so easily." You smile at him before sitting on his lap.

"I have a plan." You tell everyone, Jimin raises an eyebrow as you fix yourself comfortably on his lap. The others hang up their phones before giving you their undivided attention.

"We're going to rope him in."

"How?" Yoongi asks folding his arms.

"Jina is our sexiest escort. When Namjoon finds out where he is, Jina will seduce him. Bring him to a secluded spot, a hotel room or an alley." Jimin snaps his fingers before nodding.

"Good idea baby. Then we'll grab him there." You turn your head before shaking it.

"No. We're going to get him to fall in love with Jina. She's going to become a part of his life. Get us information, get us his plans and then we'll take him." Jimin stares at the desk letting your idea process through his head. He hums before nodding.

"Let's put it to a vote then." Jimin raises his hand and you do as well. The rest of the guys raise their hands before smiling at you.

"The Vixen always wins. Huh?" Jeongguk teases you, making you laugh.

"So it would seem." Jimin mumbles before kissing your cheek. His hand coming to rest on your stomach as the guys begin to talk about the new plan coming to fruition.

You sit with Hyunah in the restaurant you helped Ong Mingyu acquire back with the guns he paid 6 million for.

"Kim Youngju is Kim Shin's son." You finish explaining to her and she hums in amusement.

"Is that right? I've never even thought to ask. I've had a few dealings with him in the past. He's acquired heroin from me to back sell in China." You hum as you pick at your food. You put your fork down before putting your hands over your face.

"He's supposed to be in a coma." Hyunah grabs your hands, taking them off of your face before narrowing her eyes at you.

"Let me tell you this once and once only. Yes, the circumstances are not great but you can not dwell on that. You have to push past this, push past your nervousness. You won't make anything of yourself if you wallow in your own fear. And, if Jimin was here he would say something about it being bad for your child." She tapers off her voice at the end before lighting a cigarette. You sit back in your chair before sighing. Of course, she's right, she pretty much knows all.

"That plan that you have for Jina. That's a great plan and you have to stick to it. You get Kim Youngju, you get Kim Shin. This is what you are working towards." You nod to her before folding your arms, you have to proceed as planned. Nervousness could not enrapture your whole being. You have to be strong to get what you want.

"Just remember this, Y/N. The anger you hold should push you, not your nervousness. Cowardice is not allowed in your brain, only power." You hum to her as the doors open.

"Jina is waiting for you at home." Yoongi tells you before smirking at Hyunah. "Go get 'em lioness."

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7wanderingpaws · 5 years ago

Text

Simply, yours (8) (M)

Pairing: Baekhyun x reader

Genre: family AU, hapkido teacher AU, PhD AU

Word count: 3.8K

Warnings: cursing, mature content, angst

A/N: This one was so easy and fun to write frankly! Thank you so much for letting me know your opinions for the last chap, it motivates me like 1000x more! If you could tell me what you thought about this one as well, it would be nice! Thank you 🎉 And sorry I edited this one, but Im sure there will be typos and sentences that made sense in my head while I edited but they actually dont, apologies!

Tags: @milky-baek @itsbaekhyunsbutt @luvhtears @ shesdreaminginoverdose (if you want to be tagged/untagged let me know! Im always open^^)

MASTERLIST

1 . 2 . 3 . 4 . 5 . 6 . 7 . 8

Once again, you entered your apartment in silence, except the few times Baekhyun let out a tired, exasperated sigh. Your phone was blowing up with messages from your boss; honestly, you didn't understand why was he even trying to contact you after everything that happened. By now you knew you wouldn't be able to save your work spot. Not after what Baekhyun did. And here you were, worrying about not telling your darn boss about your pregnancy.

In the safety of your apartment full of love, you were able to feel. The hotness of emotions was coming back to your bloodstream, the numbness from throwing up and the adrenaline of the fight -it was all palpable in fading touches.

This time, it was you who let out a tired sigh, but you felt the burn behind your eyes yet again as you made your way to the bedroom to collect some clean clothes before making a beeline for the bathroom, ignoring Baekhyun's angry expression as you passed by him.

Before you could close the door, he murmured your name in a warning.

“What.”

“You know we need to talk, right?” he snapped, turning to you. He spotted your bloodshot eyes, full of unshed tears and he assumed you weren't seeing him properly. He was right.

You saw him blurry like a modern art painting. Pretty, yet so… unreadable, almost worrying at how you couldn't see to the depths of it. “I know.”

At your terse answer, he clenched his jaw and you blinked, letting the tears roll down your cheeks just to see the tick in his jaw, the set of his chin almost scary. “Go,” he sighed, pushing his hands into the pockets of his dress trousers. “We will talk once you're out of there.”

Without waiting for your response, he turned abruptly but to your surprise, he reached for the front door, swinging it open. You closed your eyes just in time for it to slam shut. And he was gone.

Quietly, you took a long shower, thinking he wouldn't be back until… well, until he deemed good to be back. Which could be whenever.

Honestly speaking, you never had such a big, troubling fight before. Never. Yes, you did fight, but he never left you. Not at that hour, anyway. And you were also never pregnant. So this was one of a kind problem you found yourself in, and as you tried not to sob through your entire shower, your mind instead stormed through options you had with what happened.

Except, you had none.

You were out of job.

Your boyfriend, a hapkido master, used violence on your boss.

Your boyfriend could be reported.

You lied to your boyfriend.

Your boyfriend… was mad at you. Livid.

Was this the end of your relationship?

No.

He wouldn't let go of you that easily, and the realisation of that made you sob right then and there. The relationship you two shared was stronger than any of your doubts that were scaring you; it was stronger than any bad word, any bad action, because you two were more than that and your connection was stronger than that. As much as it hurt you that he left without telling you, you knew him well enough to know he would be coming back to you. You knew he would forgive you and he wouldn't break up with you. Not when you were carrying his children. Baekhyun was much, much more than an angry emotion and a protective action.

And you were pregnant with him.

Three kids. Three.

“Fuck,” you sighed as you closed your eyes under the hot water, wanting it to drown out all of your intruding thoughts.

If there was an issue you two genuinely had to worry about, it was how you would feed them and yourselves. Would you even survive bearing three children till the end? Would you survive giving birth? You were way past the first trimester which meant you were over the dangerous period, but you knew better than that. Bearing one child was a constant risk. Three? Definitely playing with fire.

Not wanting to create a huge water bill, you reluctantly turned off the shower even though your body screamed for more. Tired and aching, you dried yourself up, not bothering to put on a lotion; smells had been playing with your stomach too much and you literally despised and hated the constant throwing up game.

It was just ten minutes after your shower; you were lying in the bed, tucked in and ready to call it a day, when Baekhyun came back. His timing was perfect and it meant he didn't wander off in the dark streets to let his frustrations out. He probably went for a short walk.

Some shuffling later, he appeared in the doorway, the small lamp next to the mattress you were lying on gently illuminating your tired self. You didn't dare to look at your boyfriend, but you knew you had to do it. He was expecting you to. He was not in the place to beg for forgiveness now. If it was anyone, it was you.

Sighing, you pressed your lips together as you sat up slowly, looking him dead in the eyes; those dark eyes that had still some leftover heavy showers in them.

“Baekhyun,” you started and he kept your gaze daringly, leaning against the doorframe. When he didn't speak, you pursed your lips. “I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I should have told you.”

Silence.

“I will need more than that.” Was his cold answer.

“Don't you want to sit down?”

He was quiet for a moment, but then he crossed his arms. You knew better than to test him. When it came to irrational stuff you did, he was using the “I'm older” type of power against you, and you couldn't argue with that. “What did he make you sign?”

Once again, it was quiet. He was burning you with his scorching gaze, and you felt your cheeks heat up in complete embarrassment and self-loathing. But you needed to be honest. “I-I'm not sure if it was in the contract,” you started, trying not to stutter, “but he made me… Ehm, I was not supposed to fall pregnant. In exchange of him promoting me at work.”

As expected, Baekhyun let nothing to be read from his face. “Did you sign the contract and not read what it said?”

Please, make this stop. “Yes. But I really didn't think that-t-that-”

He spoke your name, cold and harsh, obviously upset. “You didn't think what?! Just how irresponsible it is not to read the conditions of a piece of fucking paper that can be used against you, huh?!”

Slowly, you tried to breathe. This was necessary. He had to let it out.

“You could have signed him owning you for all I know! Fucking hell,” he sighed, now running his hand through his hair wildly, turning away from you for a moment before sharply turning back, startling you. “And you just wanted to do it because what- you wanted more money? Is it all about money for you?! Since when did you become so fucking materialistic that you would stand in your own damn dreams!!!”

Tears, tears, tears, and he was completely right. Opening your mouth, he snapped.

“No, don't speak! I don't want to hear it right now! Fuck,” he murmured, and paced in front of you, his jaw set strong. “You weren't even pregnant when it all happened, why would you want to get to more money so badly?!”

“I wanted to provide for us as well!” you shouted back now, but your voice was so shaky you felt like you sounded pathetic. He had to know, though. “We are coming from a low-class background, Baekhyun! Why is it so bad for me to want to do more when I am perfectly able to do so?”

“Because you would have ruined your own dreams while chasing something so artificial!” he shouted back, stepping closer to where you were sitting, but you didn't budge from the sudden movement. “Money was, and money will be! But us creating a family together won't be a forever opportunity! And you were willing to just hang it up for, what, 300.000 won more? Don't be ridiculous! Plus! He is a fucking arsehole! If he isn't touching you up, he is treating you like complete shit; you deserve better than any of this! And if I could have, I would have beaten him up long ago.”

You averted his gaze. His words were driven by his love for you, you knew that much. So as much as you wanted to be offended and hurt, he was hundred percent right. Everything he just threw into your face was correct and you couldn't defend yourself, because he would come at you right away.

“Is this really everything our relationship means to you?” he asked, a bit more quietly, but his tired tone was scarring your heart. You dared to look back at him, to see him staring on the ground, one hand on his hip.

“No,” you said and you cried again, “it isn't and you know it, too.”

“Do you think I am incapable of taking care of us? Of the kids?” he looked at you, huge puppy eyes on full display as he slowly let his guard down. “Because all of this just proves you don't trust me as the breadwinner of this household.”

You bit your lip, trying to suppress your arguments, but ended up going against it. “Baekhyun, we aren't in a situation where I need to stay home, clean and do nothing while you get to earn money as if it was some easy thing to do. I am, and I will continue to work,” you replied resolutely despised tears rolling down your cheeks, “and it isn't you as a breadwinner, but us.”

The society surely was patriarchal, so if you dared to talk to your father in this manner, he would have slapped you. There was no such thing as a woman who got to go against her husband or brother.

Baekhyun, however, wasn't your father or your brother. He wasn't even your husband, and when you saw his troubled look, he finally let himself sink down on the mattress. He was your kind, loving boyfriend. “I already said this,” he started, “but I am not, and I won't keep you inside the house, locked up, while waiting for me to return to you after work. I won't tell you what to do, you know I never did,” he said in a more friendly manner, but it still beared authority. “I respect you as a woman,” he said, speaking your name softly, “and you are my everything.” His hand reached out to caress your cheek that was still wet from your tears. “I need to see you only smiling, happily, but I cannot accept you lying to me like this again. I thought we had been together long enough for us to earn each other's trust, and you going like that behind my back and signing bullshit was nothing but stupid and irresponsible. Especially because your pregnancy was jeopardized like that. You can't be under stress like that, sweetie.”

Hearing him calling you a pet name, you knew the war was over and he finally was on the positive side. His authoritative voice still kept you on edge, so you didn't throw yourself at him just yet.

“If he kicked you out, which I'm pretty much convinced he did, I wouldn't be against you not working until you give birth.”

“Baekhy-”

“Shh, let me speak, honey,” he said quietly and shuffled himself closer, sitting right opposite you cross-legged as he took your hands in his. “Listen. I know you know it, but having three babies under your heart is a dangerous situation,” he whispered loudly, bringing your intertwined hands to his lips. “It's dangerous especially for you. You are very tired after work, and you come home late and don't get enough rest. Sukyeong even told me you don't always keep up with your meals, and I don't like it one bit.” The way his lips moved against the skin of your hand was soothing you. “Accept that he threw you out, before I file a lawsuit against him for harassing you and making you sign nonsense contracts, and stay home. Find a part-time job instead, but you need to rest, darling.”

“Baekhyun,” you finally spoke and he hummed, as he let your hands fall to his lap. His eyes were now so gentle and full of worry. “I am so sorry. For everything. I shouldn't have done any of that, but please know I did it with good intentions.”

Baekhyun went silent for a bit, analysing your face, your tired features and pale skin, which only reminded him you had been throwing up today and dealing with the situation in the restaurant. Suddenly, he felt so guilty for making you go through all of it in just one evening, (although you were responsible for it, too). Let alone he just shouted at you for good ten minutes. He couldn't even imagine what other things you must have been feeling the past weeks, given how your body was changing day by day. “It's alright, babe, it's alright. I understand. C'mere,” he whispered, opening his arms and you threw yourself at him, making him almost fall back on his back. You snuggled your face into his neck, and he let out a satisfied breath, caressing your back gently. “I'm sorry for shouting at you. But I'm not sorry for punching that idiot. He deserved it.”

You were looking at the skin on his neck and how it disappeared under his shirt that had the first two buttons undone. “Thank you for standing up for me, honey.”

“My baby,” he murmured lovingly into your hair before he gave it a kiss. “My only baby.”

You woke up to slow, gentle caresses on your small belly as your shirt was ridden up just a tiny bit, Baekhyun not wanting to wake you just yet. He was behind you, wanting to spoon you as soon as he washed up and fell in bed next to you last night. It didn't take long for both of you to fall asleep, as surprising as that was. The events tired you out, and he wanted you to sleep as much as you could.

He kissed your clothed shoulder before he nosed your neck and buried his face in your hair, while his caresses didn't stop. Letting his eyes close for a moment, he brought his front just a little closer to you, his leg wrapping around yours that were politely connected. His hand absentmindedly wandered further up before going dangerously low, sending shots of pleasure down your core without even paying attention. You knew he would soon realize his effect on you, because you definitely felt like squirming in his hold.

His hand lazily dragged upwards almost touching the underside of your breast when you couldn't keep it in anymore, breathing in sharply just for his hand to stop right under the-

“Oh, I finally have you awake,” he murmured, his husky voice sending another set of chills down your spine.

You couldn't help but smile, happy you woke up to this. The fluid down there was saying something else, though.

��Slept well?” he murmured into your ear, as he continued dragging his hand up. You groaned softly when he groped your breast as he pushed himself even more into you, and you felt it. He was so ready for you.

“Mhm,” you hummed in agreement, enjoying the massage as he proceeded to nibble on your ear from behind, your eyes closed in pleasure. “You?”

“I realised we didn't keep our promise, babygirl.”

Your breath hitched in your throat when your realised what he was implying.

“So, is my beautiful lady still horny enough to go the remaining two rounds?” His voice was so deep, you felt yourself scrunching your eyes shut, the adrenaline quickly making its way into your bloodstream. “We will take it,” he murmured and this time his hand was going down, down, down, the panties the only barrier from his wandering hand as he lifted the hem of them teasingly, testing just how ready you were for him, “very slowly, my dear.”

His fingers played with you just for few seconds before he pushed his middle finger inside, your mouth opening in a silent moan as you leaned back into him.

“It's so early, but you are already like this,” he continued while your head was swimming, his ministrations nothing short of slow, yet so pleasurable, “all for me.”

Your insides were squeezing painfully, and he wasn't moving faster, nor did he have the intentions. “Baekhyun,” you said, trying not to pant too loudly, “I just want you.”

“Hmm? Speak louder, I'm still sleepy.”

“You're such a tease,” you whispered in disbelief before surprising him by reaching behind you to touch him exactly where he needed you. He hissed, his eyes looking at your profile to see the smirk you had on your face.

“I wanted it to be slow, romantic and all of that,” he mumbled before pushing your hand away while he sat up, causing you to fall on your back. As soon as his hand was out of your panties, you felt a pang of frustration before he covered your body with his, his face close to yours as you tried to calm down from him fingering you so sensually.

“I want none of that,” you replied as you grabbed his face for a heated kiss, “I want you inside me, just about now.”

“Needy, naughty…” he muttered with a flirty smirk as he teased you at your opening, causing both of you to groan. “Are you ready, sweetie?” And he still made sure you were okay with him.

“I'm always ready for you,” you whispered, spreading your legs even more for him, as he pushed himself in, your eyes instantly closing in wonderful pleasure only he was able to give you.

He stayed inside, buried and panting into your hot mouth as he rested his forehead on yours. “Sweetheart, open your eyes for me, hm? I love you, you know that?”

“I know that. And I love you, do you know that?” you reciprocated, smiling up at him only to be rewarded with his smiley eyes as he pushed back before diving right in few more times, where he hit your sweet spot. Moaning loudly, he dragged his face to suck on your neck before he took one of your hands, intertwining them with his as he pushed it up above your head.

“I know that. You are my angel,” he said, finishing it with a guttural groan as he felt you pulsing around him, knowing you were about to cross the edge and he was not far behind you. “Come for me. We have another round,” he breathed before kissing you passionately, messily, moanily.

You mentioned you wanted none of slow. And in the second round, he gave you just that. Baekhyun became ruthless, just before whispering: “Are you riding?” And he was fast to change positions. He helped you straddle him although you definitely had the energy to move and climb by yourself, given your crazy hormonal drive.

“That was just a warm-up session.” He warned, not waiting for you. Your screams, his groans, the heat, it was all so fucking amazing you were left in a complete bliss. You were fast to catch up to him, moving your hips while he was watching from beneath you, eyes dark, glazed over and completely smitten by you.

“You're the best,” you breathed out as you dragged your hands to you breasts, but Baekhyun wanted none of that. He swiftly sat up, his chest almost pressed to yours while you continuously rode him, up and down, your hands being pushed aside just to be switched with his as he added his sinful lips to the swell of your breasts.

“You're a goddess, mummy,” he muttered, leaving a wet trail on your chest while his hands squeezed and massaged your mounds.

“Baekhyun!” you scolded, and despite the sweat and the delightful pull in your belly approaching yet again, you blushed; the blush definitely caused by his choice of words.

He looked into your eyes, his ones proud and lustful. “It's true,” he muttered, groaning as you sank down exceptionally hard, almost falling onto his sturdy chest. His hands were now squeezing your sides, helping you out, unable to keep the needy touches to himself when you looked so gorgeous like that. He squeezed your arching body to his sweaty chest.

A quick glance at your swollen belly that he made sure you noticed, his hand came to touch against it and you were gone. He caressed you there gently while swallowing your moans as you grabbed his face, kissing him, your hair falling, creating an intimate curtain just around where your mouths were connected. You still had an unearthly energy to help your boyfriend out to his orgasm, not wanting to be in the ecstasy alone, and as much as Baekhyun needed the release, his hands slid across your sides, holding your hips to stop their movement.

“Enough, baby girl,” he whispered into your mouth, leaning back ever so slightly to see your flushed cheeks, sweaty forehead. “I don't want you to hurt yourself.” He was still panting and you swore to god he looked so handsome with his hair glued to his forehead, puffy cheeks. You might have gotten horny again.

“Come with me,” you insisted, attempting to to move again but he bit his lip, a cheeky glint in his eyes, and he held your back tenderly, moving you to lie on your back, while slipping out of you. Hissing, he stood up quickly.

“I'll be right back.”

Trying to calm your breath, you closed your eyes, enjoying the feeling in your aching body. A knowing smile played on your lips; Baekhyun would rather get a cold shower then another orgasm from you, just because he was worried about you. If that wasn't some darn good self-control, you didn't know what it could be.

Just as he promised, he was back soon, a towel in his hands to help you clean up. Once done, he lied back down next to you and you immediately curled up by his chest. “That was amazing.”

“Hmm, you are amazing,” he said. After a little pause, he asked: “You feeling alright?”

“Perfect. But I could go again, you know? You don't have to be so careful with me.”

He snorted as he played with the ends of your hair. “Jeez, you already have my baby! Actually three of them! Slow down, woman.”

You both laughed heartily, and he loved the sound.

“But I want to have youuu, my love,” you whined.

“You have me. You always have me. I'm yours. I'm just simply yours.”

A/N: just to clarify, this isnt the end, we still have quite some things to get through actually - more drama ㅠㅠ! Just didnt want to leave you on a cliffhanger. Hope you liked this chapter as much as I enjoyed writing it! Any feedback is very much appreciated 🥺 🥺

#baekhyun fanfiction #baekhyun smut #baekhyun fluff #baekhyun fic #baekhyun scenario #baekhyun imagine #exo fanfiction #exo fanfic #exo smut #exo fluff #exo au #baekhyun au #kpop fanfiction #kpop smut #kpop au #my writings

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monaownsmyass · 5 years ago

Text

Pineapple Jacket

Requested fic by @playallthechoices. (If you have any fic ideas or requests you'd like me to write, you can leave me an ask!)

Book: Queen B

Pairing: Zoey x MC (Bea Hughes)

Genre : Angst/Fluff/Humour

Rating: PG13

Word Count: 1,925

A/N: What’s this? A @monaownsmyass fic that’s less than 2k words? Impossible! Anyway, Zoey and MC get into an argument but it doesn’t last long cuz Zoey can’t take MC seriously. This was so fun to write and I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did!

Tag list: @ineedskyecrandall @kamilahsayeet2063 @avalawrencefl @lovekamilahsayeed @thequeenkamilahsayeed @heygmicheelle @djtjsmith14 @jjlover01 @soft-for-drake @dopeyouth @alexroyard @satrinadia @toalltheboysididntlove (lmk if anyone would like to be included or removed in my next fics and if you only want to be tagged for certain pairings.)

"Hey, babe?" I heard Zoey call out from the living room. "Have you seen my jacket?"

Oh shit.

"Which jacket? I asked nervously even though it was obvious which one she was talking about.

"What other jackets have you seen me wearing?" she laughs. "The pineapple one, duh!"

I took a few deep breaths and stepped out of my room, preparing myself to tell her the truth.

"Uh, hey, Zo."

"What's up, babe? Did you find it?"

"Well, not really, I mean yeah I know where it is but," I scratched the back of my neck. "It kinda... shrank..."

She just looked at me and blinked. Once... twice...

"What do you mean it shrank?"

"Um, it got smaller..."

Zoey sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Yes, I'm aware of the concept of shrinking, I mean how?"

“Uh, well, you see," I stuttered, trying to word it in a way that was the least embarrassing for me while simultaneously in a way so that I wouldn't get yelled at. I was failing miserably at both. "I may have threw it in the dryer..."

She stared at me again but this time with her arms crossed. She looked at me for so long unblinkingly, I swear I could see her eye twitch which did nothing except made me even more nervous.

"And why did you throw it in the dryer?"

"I accidentally spilt something on it," I said hesitantly while raising my hands in front of my as if it would magically stop Zoey's wrath that was currently being directed towards me. "In my defense, I was just trying to help you get it clean!"

"It wouldn't have gotten dirty in the first place if you didn't spill anything on it! And how many times have I told you that that blazer must be hand-washed and hung dry?!"

"I panicked and I completely forgot! Baby, I'm so sorry-"

"Don't 'baby' me!" Zoey fumed.

She stepped closer to me and I had to forced myself to not move back.

"Where. Is. It?" She whispered each word in a low menacing voice and if I wasn't shitting myself from how terrifying she was right now, I would've been very excited.

I gulped and tried to reply but the words didn't come out.

"Bea Hughes."

Uh-oh, full name in that tone isn't a good sign.

Wordlessly, I pointed to my room. I honestly have no idea why I kept it in my room 'cuz I knew she was gonna be looking for it eventually and leaving in my room wasn't be the best move. I guess I was panicking too much to think properly.

She stormed off into the direction I pointed at and not long after, I heard her scream.

"OH MY GOD!"

She came out holding the shrunken jacket.

"What the fuck is this?!"

"Your jacket," I pointed out lamely.

"It shrank this much?!"

"Hey, on the bright side, it can fit Cutiepie now," I joked, trying to lighten the mood but as soon as I said it, I realised I shouldn't have.

"Bea! This was my favourite jacket!"

"I know! And I can't tell you how sorry I am!"

I pouted and approached her cautiously. She brought her lifted arm with the jacket down to her side and let out a huge sigh.

"There's no point staying mad at you."

She gathered me in her arms and I felt myself immediately relax into her, unbelievably relieved. I rested my head on her shoulder as she spoke, "Not like I could stay mad at you anyway."

"I'll make it up to you somehow, I promise. I feel so bad."

I felt Zoey shake her head. "No, it's okay babe."

Then, she said something that took me aback.

"I have a spare in my closet anyway."

I broke out of her grasp and took a couple steps back.

"You have what?"

"Yeah, I have another."

I could feel the rage boil within me, making me red in the face.

"If you had a spare why did you make such a big deal out of this?!"

Zoey looked at me and scoffed. "Don't turn this around and blame it on me! In case you forgot, you're the one that ruined my favourite jacket!

"Right, your favourite jacket that you have another of! So I don't get why you had to yell at me about it!"

"'Cuz you still ruined my favourite jacket!"

Our banter continued on, back and forth and back and forth for who knows how long, the other not wanting to give in.

"But you didn't have to throw it in the dryer!"

I groaned and slid my hand down my face in irritation. "God! Not this again! I told you it was an accident! Why don't you believe me?"

"I didn't say I didn't believe you, I just think you should be more careful!"

That's it, I couldn't take it anymore.

"AND I'VE APOLOGISED AT LEAST 50 TIMES!" I shouted so loud I was sure the entire dorm building could hear me. "What do I hafta do to get ya to forgive me?! Ya want me to get on my fuckin' knees and beg? Goddamn! Want me to grovel at ya feet, maybe a lil' smooch while I'm at it real quick? 'Cuz this is bloody ridiculous, Zo! Jeez!"

I threw my hand up in frustration and glared at her.

She looked at me, long and hard. We stared at each other for a good minute before I saw the corner of Zoey's lips quirk up.

"What?" I asked.

And that's when she lost it.

She let out a full-fledged grin and burst into laughter, clutching her stomach and doubling over.

My scrunched up face instantly relaxed at the sound. It was impossible to hold a grudge and stay angry when I heard Zoey laugh. It was like sunshine on a dark, cloudy day and I couldn't help but give her a smile of my own when I heard the most beautiful sound known to mankind.

"What?" I questioned again but I was grinning this time.

"Your accent!" she managed to choke out between giggles. "It's so cute!"

As soon as she said that, I realised what she was talking about and I laughed along with her, feeling heat go to my cheeks as I covered my face with my hands.

"Oh my god," I said, embarrassed but still smiling.

"Aww, no need to be shy, baby," Zoey cooed and moved in to wrap her arms around me. "I think it's adorable."

"How am I supposed to scold you and be mad at you now?" I buried my face in her shoulder.

"You don't!" she replied, laughing.

"At least I know our arguments won't last too long," I muttered.

She chuckled and lead me to the couch. She held up her shrunken pineapple jacket and sighed.

"Might as well take your suggestion and put it to good use."

She called Cutiepie to her and scooped him up in her arms. She put the jacket on him and set him back down. He stumbled and waddled around a little, trying to get used to the foreign object on him.

"At least Cutiepie can match with his other mama now," I joked.

We giggled at the sight and then Zoey turned to me. She cleared her throat and spoke to me in an accent that made me groan.

"Now tell me, darlin', what in tarnation were ya doin' with ma jacket?" she mocked, trying to hold back her laughter.

"First of all, I do not sound like that," I clarified, raising a brow at her even though I was trying to hold back my smile. "Second of all, I'm not gonna tell you."

"Aw, why not?" she pouted.

"'Cuz you're making fun of me," I sulked. "And also 'cuz it's embarrassing."

"Okay, okay, I'll drop the accent and I promise I won't tease you."

"Promise?"

She held out her pinky. "Pinky promise, babe."

I hooked mine around hers instinctively and took a deep breath.

"Alright, so, maybe, sometimes when you're out, I wear your jacket around the dorm when you're not using it 'cuz I miss you," I admitted shyly, looking away from her. "Then when you texted me saying you were coming back early the other day, I panicked and accidentally knocked some wine over onto your jacket. I tossed it into the dryer, completely forgetting I wasn't supposed to, I’m sorry."

She took too long to respond so I turned back to her to see her wearing a shit-eating grin on her face.

"Well butter my butt and call me a biscuit," she said with a country drawl and I scrunched my nose, groaning again.

"Zoey! And I'm Midwestern, not Southern, jeez!"

"Okay! I'll stop for good this time," she laughed and placed a peck on my blushing cheek. "I think it's really cute that you wear my jacket. And for the record, I knew you did that."

I gave her a look, mouth slightly agape. "You knew?"

"Mhm," she responded and now it was her turn to look shy. "I knew 'cuz when I wore it, it always smelt like you, which is partly the reason why I wore it so mucht too. Which also explains why I was upset when you told me you ruin it."

I was about to correct her, saying I didn't actually ruin it but I didn't want to get into another argument. So I ignored it and only focused on the beginning part.

"You wear it 'cuz it smells like me?" I said in a small voice. She only nodded. I jumped on her and attacked her with kisses.

"Bea!" she giggled but didn't try to push me away. Instead, she brought her arms to encircle my waist, pulling me closer. I kissed her lips, cheeks, forehead, nose, neck, any part I could reach.

Eventually, I pulled back. She sighed and frowned. "Now I have to wear the spare that smells all new and stuffy."

She got up and went to her room to retrieve her other pineapple blazer.

"Can you wear it?" she asked me with doe eyes. "Please?"

How could I say no to that? Scratch that, why would I say no to that?

Without wasting another second, I took the jacket from her and draped it over my shoulders, inserting my arms into the arm holes. I loved the way her jacket was a little too big for me. The sleeves went past my hands and the seams at the shoulder drooped down. It was perfect.

I pulled her down into me to give her a long, sweet kiss on the lips. I wrapped my arms around her neck and felt her slide onto my lap, kissing her as if my life depended on it. Kissing Zoey was always an event and this time was no exception. I could feel the butterflies in my tummy stir and my heart beating as loud and hard as a drum in my chest.

When we pulled back, I took in her gorgeous face, both of us breathing hard. She grinned at me and I smiled in response. She was a spectacle.

But then she opened her mouth and ruined it.

"Well, I'll be darn," she whispered breathlessly in a midwestern twang.

I shook my head. "That's it, no more kisses for you!"

She threw her head back laughing, arms pulling herself closer into me as her laughter filled the room and me up with joy.

(More fics!)

#zoey x mc #zoey wade #zoey qb #qb #queen b #qb choices #choices #choices: stories you play #pb #pixelberry #playchoices #qb fanfiction #choices fanfiction #thanks for reading!

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navegandoaciegas · 5 years ago

Text

the love you deserve.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader (fem!reader)

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: “He’s Bucky Barnes, Captain America’s best friend. He was the guy at the Triskelion, they say he’s the one who killed JFK.”

Whoever this Bucky guy is, he’s not your Jaime, your Jaime could never harm a fly. Your Jaime is good, he’s compassionate. Surely your friend must be wrong.

Warnings: soft!bucky, asshole!reader, angst, fluff, lying, cheating, drug use, alcohol consumption (including mentions of underage drinking), language that Steve Rogers wouldn’t approve of.

A/N: AU where Civil War and Thanos never happen, Tony forgives Bucky and he retires. Reader kind of ain’t shit in this one, you’ve been warned.

This is my very first attempt at writing in English, I’m not a native speaker, so forgive me for any mistakes :)

This is part 1, please reblog and let me know what you think of it :) feedback is always appreciated! I can tag you for part 2 if you’re interested, let me know.

Brooklyn, New York

Bucky smiles softly looking at the picture of you two on his lockscreen.

He’s had the Parker kid teach him how to use those damn devices just so he could look at your pretty face and talk to you while you’re not together.

Alpine is cuddled on the couch with him and he shoots you a good morning text like he does every day. You haven’t responded much since yesterday, but he doesn’t think much of it.

You’re at a bachelorette party with your best friends and he doesn’t want to be a bother.

Still, he can’t even begin to describe how much he misses you. It’s only been two days since you’ve left for Vegas but he feels his heart constrict in his chest because you’re not there, and he can’t hold you, cuddle you, whisper sweet nothings into your ear and make you giggle like a schoolgirl.

He can’t look at you with big, curious eyes while you do the pretty girl things you always do, like put on makeup or do face masks. He can’t brush your hair and rub your feet when you come home after wearing heels all day at work. He can’t cook your favorite comfort food as you rant about your job.

God, if his father saw him run to the store to grab you tampons and chocolate every time you get your period, what would he think? He barely suppresses a snort just thinking about the shocked and embarrassed look on his old man’s face after he accidentally overheard Becca tell her friend she’d gotten her period at 14.

He’s sure Mr. Barnes wouldn’t approve of Bucky’s behavior.

And surely HYDRA would punch the air if they saw their most prized possession paint his best girl’s feet in a pretty baby blue nail polish, because baby blue makes you happy, and if you’re happy then he’s happy too.

He’s such a sap, like Sam tells him.

He smiles like a lunatic at the thought of Zola having a stroke if he could see him all dolled up, hair braided and makeup done, just because his girl is bored and wants to practice her skills.

He’s fallen hard for you and he knows you love him.

Well, you love Jaime, as he goes by when he’s with you.

Would you love troubled, damaged Bucky too?

Las Vegas, Nevada

Your late 20s are a weird phase of your life.

Half of your friends are inviting you to their weddings and baby showers, some aren’t even done with school yet, and others can’t properly take care of a house plant on their own.

You belong to the latter category.

It’s Jade’s bachelorette party tonight, you’re in Vegas and you’ve drank more alcohol and done more drugs than you can handle.

And mixing those it’s a bad idea, but you can’t find it in yourself to care anymore.

Getting wasted in Vegas. It’s cliché really, but a it’s a fitting ending to Jade’s bachelorette years. You have always wanted to recreate The Hangover, minus the tiger and a couple other things, you suppose.

It reminds you of the first time you two have popped a pill in the dingy restrooms of a club in Barceloneta. You weren’t 18 yet, but in those kind of clubs age really did not matter.

You were so out of it by the time whatever drug you took kicked in that some British girls you met that night had to drag both your asses to their apartment.

Those girls, Grace and Hannah, if it wasn’t for them you wouldn’t be alive today.

You’d fucked and drank your way through Europe. It was London first, but London was boring, then Barcelona and Rome; Jade loved southern men, and you loved the way Spanish and Italian people partied. From Rome to some random italian city in the south where you’d taken a ferry to Corfù.

By the time you got to Greece you were so high all the time you barely registered moving from island to island until it was time to catch a plane to Athens and then Budapest. And from Budapest to Berlin, and from Berlin back home.

It was the summer before college and you were celebrating the end of your high school career. It was a nice phase, admittedly. You were both cheerleaders, popular, pretty, smart. You’d gotten into the college of your dreams on a cheerleading scholarship, your parents were proud of you, life was good. That summer you didn’t have a single care in the world, except choosing the sorority you would join in when August came.

Ten years later, Jade is getting married.

Today, you found out your boyfriend is a conniving bitch and a lying asshole. Not to mention the one they call the Winter Soldier.

“Hi pretty girl, can I buy you a drink?”

It’s lame maybe, but you’re drunk out of your mind and he’s handsome.

Warm brown eyes look down at you.

They’re not like Jaime’s, his eyes are light blue, almost transparent.

His skin is dark and glistens in the lights of the club, nothing like Jaime’s fair completion and his rosy cheeks.

You can feel the drug induced euphoria wearing off and the slight tick of your jaw. You’re glad you’re wearing a bandana that covers the lower part of your face.

“Why don’t we get out of here?”

His smile is pretty like his face. His head is shaved. Jaime’s chestnut locks reach his jawline.

You nod your head.

When he talks he’s charming and sure of himself. Jaime was a stuttering mess the first time he spoke to you.

You think of nothing, you feel like nothing.

“Cum pretty girl, cum for me.” he grunts in your ear.

His voice is gruff and deep. Jaime’s voice is soft for a man so big.

You should feel guilty but you don’t.

How can you, when this feels so good?

Why would you? You’re not the one who lied in the first place, you’re not the one who hid their identity.

You’re spent and satisfied. In your drunken haze you barely register the man cleaning you up with a washcloth and leaving you in your hotel room with a kiss on your temple and a whispered thank you..

You should be ashamed of yourself but you’re not.

Because Jaime who brings you flowers on all of your dates, who opens the door for you, pulls the chair out the table, gives you his jacket when you’re shivering, that sweet Jaime doesn’t exist.

His name isn’t Jaime at all, it turns out.

It’s James “Bucky” Buchanan Barnes.

Morning comes and your head is pounding. You’re hugging the toilet while you throw up all you’ve got left inside of you while Grace holds your hair out of your face.

You never fucking listen, and that’s one of your biggest problems.

The second big problem you have, you never watch the news, and that’s shame.

If you did you might have seen the cool looking guy with the murder strut that beat the shit out of Captain America at the Triskelion.

Too bad you never bothered to educate yourself on what’s going on in the world.

If you did, you might not have ended up dating the Winter Soldier for five fucking months.

Morning comes and the sun shines through the curtains of this nice hotel Jade’s fiance has booked for the five of you. Raven snores softly on one of the beds, and you hear Hannah whisper to her girlfriend sweet nothings on the phone, and all you can think about is Jaime’s shy smile and soft eyes.

The way he hunches on himself to appear less threatening, the way he gives up his seat on the train to pregnant ladies and old people, the way he never fails to leave a generous tip to waiters and is polite to everyone.

Your phone lights up with a text message.

Good morning sweetheart, I hope you had fun with your girls last night. Having lunch with Alpine, we both miss you. I love you.

Your throat feels tight as you choke back a cry.

You never fucking think before you act, and that’s the biggest problem of them all.

You should regret it, and you do.

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky imagine #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky x y/n #marvel fanfiction #james buchanan barnes

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kitten-anarchy · 5 years ago

Text

frenemies (TUA Fanfic)

TUA | BAD THINGS HAPPEN BINGO

PROMPT: ENEMY TURNED CARETAKER

(ao3 link)

TWS: emetophobia (vomiting), the handler is kind of creepy (not sexually!! PSA: if i see anyone tag this as ship, i’m gonna break your kneecaps :D) = Five wakes to a pounding, ear-splitting headache.

His vision is blurry, black spots dancing in his vision, and he can barely keep himself from throwing up. Instinctively, his hands go to wipe his nose, expecting the usual trail of blood that comes with overusing his powers. His hands come back dry - not even a fleck of dried blood on them.

Did I get kidnapped?

He bites back a groan of annoyance. Of course. Five is not unfamiliar with the infamous Hargreeves family luck. It's his own fault for letting his guard down; after getting stranded for forty-five years and stopping two apocalypses, he really should know better then to expect one day off.

Rubbing his aching head, Five takes stock of the room. It's a simple thing, four smooth stone walls with only a single door across from where he's sitting. Annoyingly enough, he's attached to a monitor and an IV. Normally, Five wouldn't think twice about removing the wires and jumping out, but just the thought of it makes his head spin.

He'll have to suck it up. You're fifty-eight years old, Five. You can handle a little pain. Get over yourself.

Five swings his legs off the bed, shivering slightly as his bare feet touch the cold concrete flooring. The freezing air easily penetrates the thin white hospital gown. He slowly makes his way towards the wooden door. It's annoying, feeling this weak and vulnerable. It doesn't help that he doesn't have access to his powers. At the very least, he can take comfort in the fact that his siblings aren't-

His siblings.

Fuck, where are his siblings? Are they in here with him? Shit. Shit.

Don't panic, Five, Dolores would say. Take a deep breath. I'm sure they're fine.

Right, right. They're thirty years old, and they can hold their own in a fight. They'll be fine.

(They're thirty years old, and they can hold their own in a fight, but that didn't help them against the end of the world.)

He starts making his way quicker to the door, ignoring the way the burning taste of bile that fills his mouth. He tries the door - it's locked. Of course it is.

He doesn't have time for this.

Five dislikes blinking into unknown areas - anyone or anything could be there, and while Five is confidant he can still put up a damn good fight if need be, he doesn't want to risk it. The wood is thin, though, and Five can't hear or see anything passing by. Concentrating, he blinks into a mostly empty hallway.

He throws up on the spot.

Sinking to his knees, Five chokes, phlegm and blood littering the bile splattering the cold cement flooring. The flickering fluorescent light bulb makes his nausea worse, and his eyes squeeze shut as another heave wracks his shaky, weak body.

His head spins.

Everything spins.

It all blurs together, and Five can't tell the walls from the floor from the ceiling from the door from the floor.

Between heaves, he can faintly make out the faint sound of footsteps. His powers don't work. His throw-up cools around his fingers, sticky and gross. His powers don't work. The footsteps grow louder. His powers don't work. Cool fingers card their way through his sweaty hair.

"Oh, Five," a voice tuts. The air suddenly smells sweet, crusty and sickeningly so, a faint undercurrent of smoke reminding Five of burnt caramel. He dry-heaves again. "Look at the mess you've made. Good little boys don't throw up on the floor."

Don't fucking patronize me, he wants to hiss but the words dry up in his throat as he looks up. The Handler smiles down at him, easily picking him up bridal style. "You should go back to bed," she says. "You're not well."

He struggles in her grip, clawing at her throat as her sharp nails dig deeper into his legs and shoulders. His limbs are weak, bones shaky like jelly. "Don't fucking touch me." Five snarls, clawing and scratching but she won't put him down. How the hell is she even alive? What the fuck does he have to do to make sure she dies and stays dead?

"Relax, dear," They aren't going back to the room, instead walking down the hallway. They pass by more doors, all the same - 009, 010, 011... it just keeps going. Where the hell is she taking him? Where the hell is she taking him? "I don't know if you've noticed, but you're covered in vomit. You need a change of clothes, mister!"

"Where am I?" He tries to sound intimidating, or at least vaguely unaffected, and fails horribly. Five's voice fails him, hoarse and barely above a whisper. The Handler is enjoying this - he can tell. There's a slight curve to her mouth whenever she glances down at Five's small and pitiful form. She's in control here, and they both know it.

The Handler stumbles suddenly, jerking Five, and he buries his face into her stomach at the sharp burst of nausea. He can practically feel her smirk. "I don't know if I should tell you, Five," she sings as they continue down the hall. "What's the magic word?"

"Fuck you," he snaps. He hates this - weak, shaky, and feverish, stuck in the arms of a monster. "Fuck you." They enter the bathroom, grey and sterile, and she sets Five down on the toilet.

"That's not very nice," The Handler hums, running the bath water. "Say that you're sorry, Five." He's not, but she's walking towards him, and his powers don't work, and she's trapping him against the cold porcelain, and his powers don't work, and her sharp nails are digging their way down his neck, and his powers don't work-

"I'm sorry." He chokes out.

"I forgive you," she says, easily. "Now, let's get you into the tub."

"What the hell are you doing?" He snaps as her fingers reach to tug at the strings of his hospital gown. Five has no idea what she's planning, but he does know that the thin, flimsy fabric is the only barrier between him and her, and he intends to keep it that way.

The Handler chuckles. "You can't take a bath with clothes on, silly!'

"I'm not taking a bath while you're in here."

"Oh, but it's for your own good! I mean, just look at you!" she says slyly. Five bats away the hand reaching to stroke his cheek. "So weak and helpless... you're covered in your own sick. You need help. I'm a mother at heart, you know." Yeah, sure. She knows as much about parenting as his own father did. "You're so stubborn, Five. Fine, fine. I'll leave to get you some new clothes. If you slip and crack your head open, it's not my fault."

True to her word, she leaves, finally leaving him alone. There's no windows in here either, unfortunately, and the only vent he sees is far too small for even this stupid prepubescent form to fit into. The door is locked from the outside, and Five really doesn't want a repeat of last time.

Sighing, he unties the gown and steps into the lukewarm water. His limbs are still shaky and weak, and for a second Five really is convinced he'll crack his head open. Though it hurts to curl his fingers, he keeps a tight grip on the sides of the tub as he lowers himself down.

Some food would help him regain his strength - if his former employer is so obsessed with her little power play over him, maybe he can play to it and get something actually substantial out of it. If he bides his time, acting weak and nauseous, she'll get overconfident.

Maybe she'll even tell him where he is, to try and break his spirit.

For now, all Five can do is get clean. He tries not to focus on it too much - waste, waste, waste - and just goes through the motions as fast as he can. The only good thing is that the sharp pain in his head has dulled down to an ache. As he's wrapping himself up in a towel and stepping out, the door opens, and Five scrambles back, keeping the towel close to his body. "What the hell? Get out!"

She has the decency to keep her eyes closed, though that doesn't stop Five from fantasizing shoving her heels down her throat. "I'm just bringing you your clothes, Five! I even went through the trouble of getting something that wasn't a flimsy old hospital gown."

"I'm not changing in front of you-"

"I would never ask you to do that, Five," she huffs, eyes still closed, placing his clothes down onto the toilet. "I'm a mother, not a pedophile."

"Could've fooled me, seeing as you wanted to give me a bath."

"What can I say? You're only a little bit bigger than Lila when she was eight, and heaven knows she didn't know how to shampoo properly until she was ten."

"Well, I'm fifty-eight, and I do know how to take a bath by myself. Now, get out."

The Handler smiles indulgently. "Of course. I'll be right outside." Great. She leaves, the door locking with a click behind her. Thank god.

His fingers tremble violently as he buttons the red flannel shirt closed. It reminds him of something Vanya would wear, which brings him a little comfort. Vanya... does she think he left again? He has no idea how long he's been stuck in here. If they think he left, they won't look for him.

They won't look for him.

So what? It's only logical - you left once. Are they supposed to magically know you've been kidnapped? Get a grip, Five.

Sucking in a breath, he continues getting changed. The Handler had left him a pair of shorts that looked incredibly similar to his academy ones, and if it weren't for the fact that he had nothing else to wear, he would've gone out there and choked her out with them. Combined with some threadbare animal socks and black flats, Five is convinced she probably grabbed these at random out of Lila's closet just to piss him off. "I'm done," he calls out, not bothering to hide the bite in his voice.

She opens the door, giving him a wide smile. "Oh Five! You look absolutely lovely," she says, her hands fingers brushing the wet strands of hair out of his face. "Smell nice too."

"Fuck off."

"You really ought to be more polite," She hums, keeping a tight grip on shoulder and leading him down the cement halls. "You do want to eat, don't you?" They're approaching the same hallway from earlier, and though Five hasn't seen a single person, the vomit from earlier has been cleaned up, leaving the floors slick and shiny. The Handler opens the door to his room, pushing him inside. He doesn't bother fighting it - until he has enough energy, trying to run out would be suicide.

Still, he won't give her any satisfaction. "I'm not," His traitorous stomach takes that moment to rumble, and his ears burn at her smug smile. "Don't."

"Teenagers," she sighs. "Always so stubborn."

"You-" The door slams shut in his face, locking with a click.

When he wakes up again, he can smell spices and chicken. For a moment, he can pretend he's in his room, Grace bringing up a dish of soup on a cold winter's day when they've all inevitably gotten sick. The undertones of perfume ruin it. "What do you want." Five feels marginally better after getting some rest, but the sight of the Handler's face threatens to make him sick all over again.

"Lunch, Five." She holds up a bowl of chicken soup, waving it around almost playfully. "I'm not going to let you go hungry."

"Why are you really doing this? What do you gain from playing house?" He can't take this anymore. He's tired, and all he wants is to stay with his fucking family. Is that so much to ask?

She's silent for once, expression unusually weary. For someone who's usually so arrogant, so confident in her plans, it's... unsettling. "How about this?" She finally says. "If you let me feed you, I'll answer your questions."

"...Fine." He needs answers more than he needs his dignity. Smiling, the Handler spoons some broth and holds it up to his lips. Ears burning, Five opens his mouth. It's not laced with anything, surprisingly enough, and it actually tastes good, though he would rather die than admit that to her face. They sit in relative silence, her feeding him one spoonful at a time until the last drops are scraped from the bowl and down his throat. "I want-"

"Answers, yes, I know," she sighs, setting the bowl down. "Always straight to the point. How are your hands?" He's about to snap at her for changing the subject but... they do burn, despite looking unblemished. Now that he's regained his strength, it's worrying - he uses his hands as a conduit for his powers. His powers that still aren't working, he realizes, the little tear he's used to feeling in his chest clumsily stapled shut. With no way to release them, the familiar hum of his powers burning feels almost unbearable under his skin. "Not good, I presume?"

"Why do you care?" He snaps.

"I care, Five, because you're, unfortunately, the only hope of escaping this place." She snaps back, and the fact that she's told him anything remotely honest is chilling enough, but her next words leaves a cold pit in his stomach. "Welcome to the basement level of Hotel Oblivion, Five.”

...She's not lying.

"...Shit."

#sorry five #uh i didn't actually plan for him to be stuck in hotel oblivion lmao #kinda shoehorned it in tbh #whoops #tua #five hargreeves #the handler #my fanfic #my writing #bad things happen bingo #number five #he's suffering tonight bby

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pascal-istheway · 4 years ago

Text

Deep Water - Chapter 5

Originally posted by essenceanddescent

Read it here on Ao3!

Chapter 1 || Chapter 2 || Chapter 3 || Chapter 4

Fandom: Triple Frontier

Warnings: NSFW, smut

Relationships: Frankie Morales x Reader

Tags: Smut, NSFW, PTSD, Sex

Word Count: 6.6k

Two Months Later

Your brother had texted you to come over, didn’t really give you much of an explanation as to why but just said the door was unlocked and that you should just come in when you were here. You’d parked in your usual spot out in front of his house, looking out the passenger window up at the small white farmhouse set back from the street. His truck sat in the driveway where it usually did so you assumed he was home.

“Ready to go see Uncle Santi?” you turned back and looked at your bubbly daughter who was giggling back at you as she nodded furiously. She loved her uncle as he loved her - unconditionally.

“Alright let’s go!” you climbed out, grabbing a small bag of her things and then grabbing her from her car seat and tucking her on your hip, planting a small kiss on her forehead as she tucked her head under your chin.

His lawn was freshly mowed, garden pruned, and trimmed. You’d always admired the dedication and care he took to his yard. Wishing you or Frankie had the time to spruce up the front of your own home like this.

You trudge up the front steps and knock on the door, bouncing Isabelle on your hip to shift her higher. No answer, not that you were surprised. He probably couldn’t hear you.

“Santi! You home?” you knock on the door again, knowing he damn well is home since his car is out front. You can barely hear the music coming from the backyard, but it’s enough of a warning that he’s probably not alone. “Santiagooo!” you call in a sing-song voice that makes your daughter giggle in your arms.

The door opens easily as you carry your daughter through the house in search of your brother only to find him and Frankie sitting on the back deck talking. Your feet stop you as you stand there in the kitchen, watching them sit and pass a bottle back and forth between them while they talk. He looks awful, distraught, exhausted. Honestly, he looks how you feel - miserable.

Frankie was normally full of life and laughter so the last few months have been odd that the two of you haven’t been able to move past the night you asked for space. You couldn’t look at him when the words had come from your lips, perhaps out of fear for his reaction, or maybe just that one look at him and you would change your mind and jump into his arms, begging him to forgive you for being so foolish.

Either way, it had been said, and you got what you wanted without a fight. Part of the reason you had asked for space in the first place - there was no fight left in him. He didn’t want you anymore, seemed not to want this marriage anymore even. He had just given up completely on you. And it was so frustrating because you just didn’t know how to communicate properly what was happening to you. You were so trapped inside your own head, drowning in your own trauma and you desperately needed him to hold your hand and pull you to the surface.

So space, you had decided, was the best route. You’d do it on your own. You went back to therapy, found someone who was actually really wonderful, and had slowly begun to heal and process the trauma. The cloudiness was draining from behind your tired eyes. You just wished Frankie was around to see it.

Instead, your schedules rotated around each other. He would avoid you, give you the space you needed. You ate separately, didn’t even use the same bathroom in the house anymore. It was like he was a roommate when he moved into the guest room. You cried yourself to sleep for almost two weeks when he actually did what you’d asked without any hesitation. Your therapist had told you though, that it was you that had asked, and he was just respecting your wishes. If you didn’t actually want space, you’d have to speak up and tell him.

A soft cough brings you back to the two men outside lost in deep conversation. Your name is mentioned and it makes you pause, shifting Isabelle from one hip to the other and listen. It’s not like you to eavesdrop, but considering the situation, you don’t want to interrupt what seems like such an important conversation.

You watch Frankie as he finishes the last of the amber drink in the whiskey bottle, setting it aside. He never gets this drunk or at least you’d never known him to get like this. Seeing him in this state, the echo of sadness in his constricted voice as he speaks, it’s the first crack around your heart that you never even saw coming.

He sniffles and wipes his eyes with the back of his hand, “I just know I fucked all of this up man and I don’t know how to fix it? She will always hate me.”

“Look, I know my sister has been through some nasty shit, we all have. And with Isabelle and Tom and everything that happened over there… she’s not like us, she can’t just push things away. When she feels things, she feels them with all of herself. It’s something that’s a gift and a curse I guess,” Santiago handed him another beer from the cooler between them.

“I just can’t help but feel like she doesn’t want anything to do with me anymore. I moved to the guest room because she said she needed space,” his voice was breaking you. “That was like two months ago dude. I can’t sleep without her there next to me, I don’t care if there’s a mile between us in the bed, I need her there, just to listen to her breathe, to know she’s there.”

Santiago nodded, processing the drunken admission from your husband. “Have you tried actually telling her how you feel? Like being honest and saying how fucked up we all were from that trip?” your brother asked casually. “None of us were ok after that. And you had just gotten in the shit with work when I asked you to come, so you had double the shit going on.”

The fact was he hadn’t. You had gone through this awful traumatic experience and Frankie had pushed things away like he always did when he came back from any mission. It’s what he was trained to do - what the military trained him to do. You don’t talk about things, you just shove it down and move on.

Santi was right though about you. You were different from the rest of the guys. Even if you’d been able to “ push things away” it wouldn’t have mattered. You feel everything so deeply and passionately. You experience every moment at one hundred and fifty percent. There was no halfway point with you. And it wasn’t always a bad thing either.

Like when Frankie took you to Arizona on that vacation before Isabelle was born and you saw the Milkyway over the mountains for the first time, it made you cry. Or when you saw a group of ducklings trying to cross the street and one got left behind and you just had to help rescue him. Or how every year you hold a fundraiser for the turtles and get so sad reading about how not all of them make it to the sea each year.

You feel things in every fiber of your being. It’s one of the things Frankie loves about you. He loves seeing your eyes light up when you see a dog or when you get to do a story on something light and fluffy. But he also loved your intensity about life. Your ferociousness for the ones you loved. The fire you had… the one that Lorea dampened.

“Not really. I guess,” he swallowed around a lump in his throat, “I guess I just didn’t realize how much worse it was for her. I mean I know things were scary and awful, but when we got to Lorea’s house and I saw her there on that dirty mattress, half naked and scared for her life,” he paused, swallowing hard and taking a shaky breath, “something broke inside me, Pope. She’s my entire life. She always will be. My life begins and ends with her and when we got back, it was like every time I tried to touch her, she was just so afraid of me. It made me hate myself because even though she was my reason for living, I couldn’t be hers. I wasn’t strong enough to be hers,” he let out a strangled sob and the sound completely shattered any resolve you thought you had.

Your brother put a hand on his shoulder and squeezed, “you have to talk to her, you guys have to work this out. Not just because you’re my best friend and she’s my sister, but because you two are actually soul mates. You both just have very fucked up souls right now and that’s ok. You’ll find a way back to each other…” he hoped you would at least.

“I can’t breathe without her, Pope. I can’t function without her in my life. She once said we were just existing for Isabelle’s sake but fuck, I can’t do that. I exist for both of them. They are my only reason for existing…” he trailed off, drunkenly taking a swig of his drink.

His admissions were too much for your heart to hear, it was all too much. You had your own tears streaming down your face, makeup streaking your cheeks as you rushed back around through the kitchen. Your bag bumped into something on the counter as you turned sharply and it fell, shattering on the ground at your feet. The glass shards surround your feet and you just stand there a moment, stunned and unable to move.

Both men jumped at the noise, their training and instincts kicking in as they rushed in to see you standing there with a squirming Izzy in your arms, looking tired and broken. Frankie didn’t need to ask to know if you’d heard what he and your brother were talking about, he could see on your face that you knew what he felt, what he had said. And in some ways, his heart jumped and cheered that you knew how he was feeling. That he didn’t actually have to have this conversation with you face to face. But part of that thought made him feel shitty because he knew he owed you better than that.

“Baby…” he whispered at the same time Pope reached out for Isabelle and said, “don’t move. Frankie, the glass?” and pointed at the glass at your feet.

Frankie looked down at the shattered mess and suddenly kicked into overdrive, “oh fuck… baby, don’t move,” he frantically searched for a broom to sweep up the mess as you stood there, tears leaking from your eyes as your heart shattered like the glass on the floor from the conversation you heard.

Your brother just stood there and watched you, “I put Izz in the playpen, here,” he grabbed the bag off your shoulder, “let me take the bag… you don’t have to cry, it’s just a cup, it’ll be fine.” He was looking at you with a confused look. Ok so maybe he hadn’t seen you standing there listening to Frankie spill his guts about how he felt like he wasn’t good enough for you. How he felt that he failed you.

It was hitting you like a freight train, how all of these months, you two were dancing around each other not talking, when one simple conversation could’ve cleared everything up. He thought you hated him. And why shouldn’t he? You didn’t give him any reason to think otherwise. When in reality, you loathed yourself.

For agreeing to that stupid fucking trip, for begging your crew to go with you and getting them all killed. Frankie thought you were scared of him when in reality you just couldn’t get Lorea off your skin. It had been months and you still never felt clean enough.

Your therapist had been helpful, breaking things down for you and helping you start to heal. But they never prepared you for this. For the possibility that you had been wrong about Frankie. All this time you thought he was ready to leave, to jump ship. He was done with trying to fix you, or waiting for you to fix yourself. He had given up. And it’s what you deserved after what you did to all those innocent people.

The damn broke all at once in Pope’s kitchen, both men standing there as you completely lost it. Hysterical sobs tore through your chest, your hand reaching out towards Frankie as you step towards him, knees collapsing. He caught you like you knew he would. He would always catch you in the end. He loves you.

“F-Frankie…” you sob into his chest, “oh god, I was so… so wrong,” you say between sobs.

Pope just stands there, shaking his head and shrugging at Frankie in confusion. They both share that same familiar unspoken communication as Santi leaves to go play with his niece while you and Frankie attempt to fix what you broke.

You lay there together on your brother's kitchen floor and cry into his chest, Frankie whispering soothing words of love and comfort into your hair which of course just makes you cry harder. He finally shifts, his body becoming uncomfortable underneath you and you realize you’ve been crushing his legs and sit up and wipe your eyes.

“Oh my god, baby I’m so sorry, fuck,” you pull away, wiping your face, “god, don’t look at me,” pushing back you attempt to sit up. He pulls you to him and takes your face in his hands, his own eyes red and rimmed with wet tears.

“Sunshine, what’s going on?” his thumbs swipe at your drying cheeks, pushing away the stray tears.

“Frankie,” your hands come up and cover his own as you rest your forehead against his, breathing in the man your heart has been aching for. “I’ve been so foolish, Frankie,” you admit, pulling back to look at him, and really look at him.

“No, baby, no. You…” he pauses, swallowing the lump in his own throat, “you needed what you needed,” his brows furrowed as he nods, as if he’s accepting the words all over again. I need space.

“I…” you hesitate, unsure if you should admit you overheard him and Santi outside. You have to fix this. For your own sanity, fuck, for Frankie’s sanity. “I heard you guys talking outside.”

It comes out in a whisper. Barely an acknowledgment of how dirty you feel for listening in to their private conversation. But if you hadn’t heard him admit his own truths, would you ever have known? Would you have just continued along this path of self-torture?

Afraid to look at him and see the hurt on his face, you turn your head and look away, tears starting again. Instead, he pulls your head back to face him as he wipes them away and whispers, “I love you, now, before, always. That will never change. ” His voice is tight and hurting but it’s ringing true. He loves you.

You choke out a half-laugh, half sob. He loves you. “I love you, fucking god, Frankie I love you,” your arms wrap around his neck. He stands, lifting you with him and pulling you to your feet, and dragging you towards the door.

“Pope, watch Izzy for a few hours for us?” he throws over his shoulder as he yanks you out the door towards your car, your brother watching from the door shaking his head with a grin on his face.

He throws open the car door and looks at you to get into the car as you toss him the keys over the roof, his hand reaching out last minute to catch them in mid-air. You speed off together down the road, the three minutes to your house feeling like an eternity but when he pulls up into your driveway and you both eventually find yourself standing there in front of each other in your own bedroom again. The same place where things fell apart.

“We don’t have to do this, we can just talk …” he whispered behind you, his breath tickling the hairs on the back of your neck.

“There will be time for talking,” you turn, your hands slowly reaching out to touch him but just missing the mark. You pull your fingers back as if he’s made from fire and you don’t want to be burned.

His eyes never leave you as he waits patiently for you to tell him what you need. It’s torture. He can almost taste your skin, feel your lips on his… “I miss you,” he whispers, breaking the mesmerizing trance you seemed to be in.

Your eyes meet his, the deep warm pools of brown and gold draw you closer in ways you’d missed. You can’t even imagine what your life would’ve been like if you’d never been able to look into them again. It almost makes you want to scream to think how stupid you’d been.

“I don’t want to waste any more time without you, Frankie,” you admit, moving a step closer. “I’ve waisted the last two months being so fucking foolish, I can’t…” you swallow back around the burning lump that’s grown in your throat, “I can’t live without you.” you choke out.

“I never left you, querida,” his hand came up to your face and brushed a few stray hairs from your cheek, “I will never leave, I’m right where I’ve always been. I’ll always wait for you,” he leaned forward, breath mixing with yours.

You waited for it, the kiss that would take you back in time to that moment on the beach, to the first time in your apartment, to your wedding day, to every single moment in between, but it never came. You open your eyes and see him looking at you, waiting for you to close the gap.

He was waiting for you. He will always wait for you…

You leap forward, pressing your lips into his with a ferocious hunger that only he can satisfy. Frankie surges forward, lips crashing against yours, a brutal charge that takes you by surprise and you taste the desperation, the pent-up anxiety warring inside him as his tongue slips into your mouth with a low pained growl. His chest heaving as his arms reach down and grasp under your thighs, pulling you into his arms, your legs naturally wrapping around his waist as he lifts you off the ground and carries you towards your bed.

Despite the rushedness, the clumsy force of it, your nerves sing with the relief that floods your veins at the familiar taste of him. You missed him with every fiber of your being. And kissing him felt like coming home, over and over again. Frankie felt the same, completely lost within you.

Pushing you back as he moves forward in the eagerness of it all. The force of it knocks your head against the headboard and you hear it more than you feel the collision, not even registering the blunt pain until you hear the panic in Frankie’s voice.

“Fuck! Baby, I’m so sorry!” his hand comes to pull your head back, and you just giggle, mostly with nerves but also with the pure teenage lust you both have at the moment.

“Frankie, it’s fine,” you grasp him by the shirt and pull him down, “don’t stop.”

Your lips press forward again to meet his, this time it’s more calculated, more focused. Slower and passionate. Filled with promises of making things up to each other for the rest of your lives.

“Querida, you’re s’so soft. Jesus Christ, I missed your skin.”

It’s so stupid, it almost makes you want to cry. Now, when you hear the hushed pleas of him against the shell of your ear, it is so obvious just how unwavering he is in his affection. How patiently he’s waited for you to be ready for him again. You just refused to hear and see it. You couldn’t admit that he had tried, in his own ways, in the beginning, to be there, but things were just so raw that you weren’t able to differentiate between your husband and Lorea.

Sensing where your mind was going, his lips pull away from you as he mouthed at your ear. “Are you sure this is what you want?” Frankie asks, the lingering trace of doubt that you might change your mind still there; worried you’d bite his hand if he so much as reached for you. He couldn’t risk losing you again.

Taking his hand in yours, you guide it down between your legs, beneath your thin sundress, skirting the edge of your underwear until he feels the damp spot outside of them. “Do you feel that,” you ask him in a pained whisper, “just how much I want you?”

You can see the exact moment his pupils widen, a low feral moan emitting from deep in his chest and you think you can see the moment that his mind snaps into a different setting, the way that soft brown gaze darkens. His lips find yours again, groans escaping as his teeth nip and pull at your bottom lip.

“Take them off,” he commands. It’s not an ask, not a suggestion, it’s a command.

You smirk, remembering this side of Frankie. This possessive and demanding side. You play with the hem of your dress, teasing him painfully as you stand at the edge of the bed and push him onto his back so you’re standing over him as you slowly lift the fabric over your body. Your legs part just enough for him to see between them, the cotton still covering your sweetest spot that Frankie is so desperate to taste.

He kicks off his own clothes, leaving him in nothing but his briefs to watch you toy with him as you shake your hips from side to side in front of his long legs.

“Enough of that, get over here,” he reaches out for you, one hand taking your wrist and pulling you to straddle over his legs. You climb on top of his hips, feeling the hard length beneath you and grind down on top of him.

A moan escapes your lips, “please Frankie,” you beg. His thumb strokes the outside of your panties, letting your moisture soak through them.

“You look so good like this baby,” he moans, “fuck, just like this. On top of me, looking down at me, just like this,” he sits up so your noses touch and brings his lips to yours, kissing you madly.

“Do you have any idea how much I miss being inside you?” he asks, hand still grinding into your now soaked panties. “Any idea at all? That I touch myself thinking about you, knowing you’re laying in here all alone. That you’ve gone all this time without me?” he bites your ear as he groans while you grind down on his hard cock.

His fingers find their way beneath the cotton, slipping into your warmth and coating themselves between your slick folds. A sharm breath hitches in your throat as his finger brushes over that sensitive little nub and your hips buck forward, grinding down on his fingers.

“Fuck baby, you’re so wet,” he says as his mouth travels down your neck, peppering kisses and bites the whole way down.

“I did too… I mean… I, oh fuck…” you grind your hips again on his palm, feeling the sweet release of pleasure against your clit.

“You what?” he slowed his fingers, waiting for your answer.

You let out a whine, frustrated by the sudden lack of movement, “babyyyy,” you groan.

“Tell me. What did you do?” he pulls his head back to look you in the eyes.

“I touched myself. I thought of you and touched myself,” you felt his fingers move again and your eyes practically rolled in your head.

One of his thick fingers finds your entrance and you feel him slowly sliding his finger in, massaging the walls of your cunt. A high pitched cry escapes you as you move your hips on him, bunching your hands in his shirt to pull him closer at the feeling of his fingers.

“Fuck, fuck, Frankie!” You feel his other hand come to your breast and massage, his mouth finding your nipple and taking it between his lips he rolls it to a hard peak.

“Tell me what you did,” he adds another finger, making you clench around him harder.

“I pictured…” you swallow harshly, “oh fuck… I pictured y-your cock,” you admitted.

His fingers curled, reaching the depths of you and stroked the embers that were just about to die out, igniting them with a full force that you could barely tolerate. Your teeth sank into the thread of his shoulder, biting through a sob as he worked you.

“Baby, I’m going to cum if you- oh fuck… if you don’t s-stop i’m gon… gon-a fuck!” your legs began to shake like they always did before you came, his fingers pumping and stroking relentlessly without holding back. Your back arches up into his mouth, body molding to his as your orgasm rips through you and takes hold of you deep within your core.

Fire shoots through your veins, spreading like a wildfire as stars explode behind your eyes, blinding you completely. You close them, hearing Frankie call your name as he begs you to look at him and when you do, you see fear and lust and worry scattered across his face. His lips find yours, “look at me when you cum baby, please, I-” his tongue dances with yours, “I need you to know it’s me… that we are here in this moment together.” He pulls back and searches your face as your hands come up to each side of his jaw, thumbs mindlessly stroking through his patchy beard as a small tear you weren’t even aware of slips from your eye.

“Baby, I’m here, I’m with you,” you whisper, pulling his face down to yours.

You slide your hand down his chest, feeling his fingers still plunged deep within you, and move your fingers with his, stretching yourself out just a little further than you’d ever been before.

“But I need you to fuck me or else I’m going to lose my mind,” you smile seductively.

His cock pulses on your thigh in response, ready and waiting to be brought into action. As he removes his hand, the wet suction of your pussy trying to keep him rooted within you echoes between you. His cock jumps again, begging to be buried inside you.

“Fuck baby, you…. s’so… so perfect.” he can barely speak.

“Frankie, please,” you whine, squirming under him, “fuck me.”

His eyes darken and his tongue darts out over his bottom lip. You lean forward, grasping him in your palm and squeeze, Frankie responding with a sharp hiss as your hand begins pumping his cock at your entrance. Not that he needed the help, he was throbbing, pulse bouncing within him.

In one motion, your legs instinctually wrap around his waist, pulling him in towards you in a desperate attempt to get him inside you. It doesn’t take much though. It’s obvious how much he wants you, how much he needs you .

It’s a magic moment, the one where his eyes lock on to yours, hands wrapping around your face, as he pulls you in close and guides himself to your entrance. He stills, searching your face for the fraction of hesitation from you and it almost breaks you to see him search your features for the evidence that you didn’t want this - that you didn’t want him anymore.

“Baby,” you whisper, “I’m right here,” your hand strokes his hair away from his face, searching his own eyes.

“Do you-” he pauses, stroking your hair back, “do you want this? Are you positive? Because I can always st-” you cut him off with a slow kiss, shuddering into his lips before pulling back and look at his beautiful face, his eyes pinching in concern. “We don’t have to do this, baby….” he whispered. “If you’re not ready…”

“Frankie…” you whisper, feeling how desperate his cock is for you. “I love you. I want you ,” you emphasize. It breaks your heart seeing him like this. Broken after months of you pushing him, distancing yourself in the worst way. The damage was done, and here you both were, falling back together trying to undo the disaster you’d both found yourself in.

He nods, kissing you deeply as he takes your legs and untangles them from around his hips and spreads them against the soft sheets. His cock barely nudging against your cunt, Frankie is barely holding himself together. It’s torture, complete madness for the two of you. And you’d had enough of it.

Grabbing his ass, you pull him in deep towards you, his cock spreading your folds wide as it forces its way into your incredibly tight hole. Your head rolls back and a moan flies out from your mouth as his hips match up with yours.

Frankie’s head flops forward, feeling this overwhelming urge to collapse and explode right then and there. But he doesn’t, he resolves whatever was brewing within himself and he slowly begins to move. Hips driving into you slowly at first but then picking up to a speed that could only be described as destructive .

“How does that feel?” he asks, setting this incredible pace that you almost can’t keep up with.

He pulls out of you almost entirely, only the solid tip of him resting inside you. The thick drag makes you aware of each inch of him, makes you forget how to breathe and from the breath caught in his own throat, you think he is experiencing the exact same thing.

“God, you’re fucking killing me,” he murmurs, brushing his lip over your shoulder, teeth grazing your fevered skin.

It’s almost too much, the feeling of him stretching you, the moans escaping both of you, the sound of skin on skin. It’s enough to make you want to sing out or cry. His hands explore your body, touching you in ways that you’ve been dreaming about the last few months.

“Fu-fuck… fuck, baby… Fran-Frankie…” you can barely get the words out, “ don’tfuckingstopbaby …” you pant. Frankie pulls you up, a sitting position for the two of you so your noses are right together.

“Ride me, baby. Take control… take me ,” he whispers the last part as your hips start a slow-rolling rotation over him, your arms rest over his shoulders, hands messing in his hair, pulling slightly on the messy curls as you grind down on him, sliding his cock in and out of your hole.

“Fuck baby…” you groan out into his ear, teeth scraping against his earlobe.

The pace starts to pick up, your tits bouncing in his face as he takes one in his mouth and starts sucking, teasing, and playing with you. You toss your head back, the feeling overwhelming as he spears you from below.

But it’s almost over before it starts, his hips come to a slowing halt as Frankie pants heavily, his forehead resting against your collarbone and a crease appears between his brows with a pained expression. His shoulders rising and falling with the heavy breath he’s caressing your skin with.

“Frankie, you ok?” you look at him, concerned.

“Yeah, just give me a second, I just… I need to breathe for a minute” he hugs you closer to him with a shaking breath, laughing slightly. It’s hard not to smile at his reaction, to have a man you’ve been with for most of your life so affected by you as if it’s his very first time.

This man was going to be the death of you, the praise slipping out of your lips, how good he is, how amazing he is being, how perfect of a man he is. And you know he needs to hear it almost as much as he loves to hear the praise. Mostly because the way he captures your mouth in an explosive and yet passion-fueled kiss is enough to drive you over the edge.

You move your hips slightly, feeling him treasuring the slow pull of his lips against yours while he’s inside of you. Then Frankie opens his eyes and just looks at you, brown eyes filled with unguarded warmth. It’s like he’s seeing you again for the first time. Like he’s coming home again and again with each thrust. And in a way, he is, because to him, you are home.

Leaning forward, you roll your hips into him, hands braced over the lean muscles of his thighs, appreciatively. A long, filling stroke inside you, before dropping back down to the beautiful sound of Frankie’s strangled moans as you build up the devastating rhythm of his hips meeting yours at every downstroke.

“Cariño, fuck… are you close?” It’s a rasped ask, and his lips fall to your breast, to the spot right above where your heart is thumping hard and fast. You nod, feeling his hands wrap around your body as he brings you back, moving you in sync together. His thighs flex as he pushes up firmly, causing you to fall forward and cling to his shoulders from the sheer force of his thrusts.

The damp curls from his lower stomach, leading to where you are joined glistens with your arousal as you rock your hips over him, moaning his name into his ear. There’s only the sensation of Frankie completely filling you, the hard thickness of him, and how much you’ve missed this as it takes away the aching emptiness inside you. It’s becoming impossible to have a single coherent thought anymore.

“God... I, fuck.. J’just like that… f-fu” he can barely speak as he thrusts. “S’so perfe-ct,” his body working in slow movements as he starts but then he starts to pick up the pace, moving quicker and quicker, bodies moving together in sync.

You hear skin against skin echoing in your room, the sound of being fucked properly as he grunts and groans through each thrust. He pins your legs open, taking one hand and rubbing his thumb against your bundle of nerves making your head flop back, your fingers sharply digging into his shoulders.

“Fuck - this… this what you needed?” he wheezes, his pace turning ferocious. “I know you needed this, little bird.” he can barely breathe he’s fucking you at such a fast pace. All you can hear is your own screams mixed with the sound of your thighs against his.

Your eyes start to roll as your orgasm barrels through you, “Francisco! Fu-fuck I’m cum-” is all you get out before you gush out all over him, the evidence of your orgasm flowing between the two of you.

It’s possibly the most beautiful thing you’ve seen when he throws his head back as your cunt squeezes him tightly, his lips parting as his lean throat exposes to you as he lets out a growl. Legs trembling, he starts to tense in that all too familiar way, signaling his arrival of his own orgasm. You recognize the strained inhale and hiss of his breath as he stops thrusting, trying to hold back. He grips at you, in an attempt to beg you to still but you can’t, your own orgasm riding through you and his cock drawing it out in waves.

“Fuck! Baby, stop… stop, please… stop,” he pleads, practically whimpering into your chest.

“Baby, please. Don’t stop… please…” you beg him, grinding down on him, “I want you to come inside me,” at your admission, his hand curls tight into your hips, almost hard enough to bruise your already tender skin. A strained whine that escapes from deep in his chest, as one arm locks tightly around your back, pushing you flush up against him when he pushes himself into you sharply, up and into you as far as he can, like he was reaching for your heart with his cock.

“It’s ok. I’ve got you,” you whisper into his ear, running your hand through his soft curly hair.

You feel it as he comes, a shattered sob muffled against your neck, hips pressed impossibly deep into you, the thick pulses as he spills inside of you and it mingles with your own orgasm, and all you can do is hold him against you as he quivers and shakes in your arms. You both sit there for another few minutes, breathing in each other while you come down from this incredible high you just experienced together.

Frankie lays you back, still rooted within you as he kisses you deeply and softly. His hands come to your face as you both stretch out together, tangling under the sheets, embracing in the moment of you finally coming home together - coming home to each other .

He pulls back from you, eyes searching your face as he brushes your hair from your face, “I love you,” he whispers, almost so softly, so sweetly that it breaks you all over again. “I know I didn’t tell you enough, I wasn’t there enough, but you’re my everything… I-” he pauses, “I would be so lost without you and I’m,” he chokes up as you look up into his eyes, seeing the pure raw emotion within his chocolate pools.

“I’m here, Francisco… you have me, all of me,” you assure him, pulling him into a soft hug, holding him as his eyes water up, the realization hitting both of you just how far things had gone between you.

Eventually, you both pull apart, but wrap yourselves in each other and just stay there, breathing in the air mixing between you. It’s an old habit brought back, Frankie’s fingers finding their way to your hair, mindlessly stroking and weaving through your messy, post-sex hair that makes you shiver against him. His lips pressing gentle kisses against your forehead as his other hand strokes gently down your bare back.

“I love you…” he whispers, over and over again, “I will never stop loving you,” he kisses your temple.

You pull back, looking at the man that you had pushed away, that you’d forgotten loved you so deeply and so strongly and you kiss him, remembering all those years ago at the courthouse when you recited the most important words to him. It came out of you, like a renewal of your vows, and it just felt so right. The words were so important, something so sacred. And to start to fix this, to heal you , maybe remembering them was exactly what you needed.

“Frankie, you love me and complete me in ways I never knew possible. From this day forth, I promise to listen to you and learn from you, to support you and accept your support…” you smile, remembering your vows like they were yesterday.

His head comes down to yours, forehead pressed against your own as he recites parts of his own, “Forever with you simply will not be enough, but from this day forward, I vow to make the most of every moment. Let me be the shoulder you lean on and the companion of your life. With this ring,” he takes your hand, planting a kiss on your wedding band, “I promise you that you'll never have to face the world alone.”

#Triple Frontier #frankie catfish morales #frankie 'catfish' morales #frankie morales x reader #fanfic #fanfiction #reader insert #frankie catfish morales x reader

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abraxos-is-toothless · 5 years ago

Text

Surprises (3)

So here we have chapter 3! This is all Elain’s POV but I promise that Az will be back in the next chapter. I was originally going to put them together but I changed my mind🤫

Previous Chapters: Chapter 1 and Chapter 2

Warnings: it’s clinical at the beginning so I tried to use doctor speak. There will be swearing, mature themes, mentions of alcohol at times, and mentions of sex. I will updates warnings as I go if needed.

I didn’t have a gif for this really so this works I think? Because Elain makes a decision in this that you may not agree with but we all feel differently

Chapter 3

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She should not be here. She was only seventeen for crying out loud! A nurse had brought her back into an exam room and asked her to wait saying that the doctor would be along shortly. Lucien remained in the waiting room but just before Elain had left with the nurse, he kept reassuring her that everything would be alright no matter what, and he already knew how he was going to kill the boy who did it. Smiling to herself she could imagine it; he had always been very protective of her. Everyone always thought they were a couple when the saw them together and from seeing the dirty looks he would give the boys who just stared at her ass. They had kissed once, just something chaste with no tongue included but when they pulled apart, they both agreed to never speak of it again because it did not feel right at all.

Elain was startled out of her reverie when the door opened and the doctor spoke, “So miss Arch- Wait Acheron?” Looking up she felt herself flush, meeting the gaze of Helion, Lucien’s father. Gods why did she have the worst luck imaginable? This could also get worse so suck it up Elain. She opened and closed her mouth several times before offering the pathetic response of “Uh, hello Helion.” He came and sat down in front of her and she took to wringing her hands nervously in front of her. How the hell was she meant to tell him what she came here for? It was like talking to her father about it which she would never do. Ever. He coughed slightly to clear his throat and asked “What can I do for you El?” Forcing herself to take a breath she decided to spit everything out at once in the hopes she wouldn’t have to do it again, “Well you see I think that I may havehadsexlastnightwithoutacondom.” He chuckled a bit and asked her to repeat that and to maybe slow it down this time so she steeled her nerves and said again, as clear as possible, “I may have had sex for the very first time last night and I also believe that there was no condom involved.” Elain was bright red now and could feel the heat in her cheeks and was focusing vey intently on her toes. She hated how embarrassing this was.

Helion sputtered a bit then but recovered quickly saying “Right well after an examination I’ll be able to tell you if you did the former but as for the latter, I may not be able to tell especially if you’ve used the bathroom and such since.” He got up then and walked over to retrieve a gown and then handing it to her, “Put that on and then jump up onto the table and prop your legs up slightly. We’ll figure it out Elain I promise.” After she watched him step behind the curtain she started to strip, replacing her clothes for the ugly hospital gown and did as he asked once up on the table. When she was ready, she called him back and watched as he sat at the end of the table right between her legs. She could hear the snap of gloves as he pulled them on but this time, he was gentler as he spoke, “I’m going to put my hands on you now Elain and it may feel a little cold from the gloves, Okay?” She gave a small hum of confirmation but still gasped when she felt place his hands on her. Focus on the ceiling. “You’re going to feel some pressure now El, deep breaths for me as it might hurt a little.” And it did hurt as she was still sore so she bit her lip and clenched her hands to keep from making any noises. Eventually he pulled his hands away telling her she could put her legs back down to sit normally.

After peeling off his gloves he spoke again although this time it was with a hint of nerves, “Definite signs of intercourse so I can tell you that you did indeed have sex for the first time last night, and I can tell it wasn’t forced thanks the gods.” Elain nodded already knowing that was most likely the outcome but, he still hadn’t given her the most important part of that information. “And the other thing?” He looked at the floor quickly then before he looked back at her. That’s not a good sign then is it. Fuckity shit fuck, no. “Well there appears to be small traces of semen left over so I’m afraid to tell you that there was no condom used during intercourse. The possibility of pregnancy is of course a fifty-fifty chance.” This wasn’t happening. This wasn’t happening. She needed to know now. “Is there any way of being able to know now?” It wasn’t until she said it that she realised how stupid she sounded because of course there wasn’t a way to know now, the gods damned sex had only happened the night before but he answered her all the same, “I’m sorry Elain but there isn’t, not this soon anyway. The only way to know is to wait. However, I do have an option for you that would prevent a pregnancy though.” Ah yes, the holy saviour that was the morning after pill. Elain knew what it was as she’d sometimes over heard a few girls in school talk about using it instead of condoms. Fucking idiots. But the idea of using it, to stop a life from growing, didn’t sit well with her. It was probably incredibly what she was about to tell him. No, she knew she was being ridiculous but the idea of just...

“I don’t want it. Thank you, but no thank you.” Looks of shock and sympathy flashed across his face then but as a doctor she knew he had to ask her, “Are you sure you don’t want it?” No, she bloody well wasn’t. “Yes, I’m sure Helion.”

oOoOo

Walking back into the waiting room, she did a quick scan for Lucien’s red hair and found him leaning against a wall near the entrance of the clinic. He looked up when she was close enough for him to hear her footsteps but as soon as their eyes met, she couldn’t help but to burst into tears. Elain was quickly tucked against his chest while he rubbed his hand up and down her back, whispering in her ear that she was alright, that everything would be fine. When her tears finally stopped, he pulled back and led her from the clinic back to his car. Once they were belted up and Lucien had the car moving he finally asked her “Are you going to tell me what happened? You don’t have to obviously, but I’m your best friend Lainy, I want to help.”

He was too good to be true. Honestly, he was. “Well I definitely swiped my v-card last night and I wasn’t even careful about it. I was offered the morning after pill but I just couldn’t say yes, I just- I just...” Her breathing picked up then and noticing this he brought his hand over to grip onto hers tightly and said “It’s alright, just breathe. That’s it Lainy good job.” Elain squeezed his hand in thanks once she had finally managed to calm down and they were quiet for few minutes after until he spoke again “So, what do we do now?” Wallow in self-pity with pints of ice cream. That was her first thought but she only replied with “Now, we just wait.”

They made it to their favourite diner quite quickly after that, parking close to the entrance. But before she could even move to open her door, Lucien had beaten her to it, opening her door and offering his hand. “Milady,” he said with a wink, and with a roll of her eyes she accepted his hand and they walked into the diner side by side. Making it inside the diner they were about to go to their usual table when Elain heard a familiar laugh. Turning her head in the direction of the sound, she found Feyre tucked into the booth in the far corner along with Rhys, Nesta, Cassian and- Oh shit.

She was hit with another memory then after seeing the other boys face, this once feeling as though it was happening in that moment, just like it had this morning.

“Gods, you feel incredible.” She could still feel a slight bit of pain as he started to move, but it was bearable. Elain had one of her hands in his hair, gripping the soft strands at the nape of his neck. The other, she couldn’t stop using to push her nails into the skin of his back and dragging down because every time she did, he’d let out small little moans of pleasure. As she adjusted, he seemed to pick up the pace a bit and the only word she could form was “Please” over and over again.

The slight touch of her best friend’s hand on her arm brought her back to the present. Mother above she had slept with Azriel. The brother to both of her sister's boyfriends and she barely even knew him. They only ever interacted on the rare occasions that Elain chose to sit with her sisters at lunch because there were things she needed to ask them or because they hadn’t been able to catch up properly that week. Looking back over to their booth in the corner, she realised that they hadn’t actually been spotted yet. Seeing her chance, she turned to Lucien and asked, “Actually I’m not really in the mood for greasy diner food now, can we just got to that pretzel cart in the mall that I like?” He gave a weary nod of his head in returned with a muttered “sure thing” and turned to leave, not even noticing her sisters in the corner. Letting out a small sigh of relief she hurried after him with only one thought in her mind.

This wasn’t going to be complicated at all, was it?

—————

I know I know, no interaction with them yet but I promise it’s coming! Also poor Elain, she has no idea what to do. If you disagree with her decision that’s incredibly valid but it’s my story so no hate please:) let me know what you think as it’s much appreciated💓 Let me know if you want a tag and if I’ve forgot I’m sorry just tell me and I’ll fix it ASAP😁

No beta today because it’s late and I didn’t want to disturb @bryaxisthefaceofnightmares so forgive me for any mistakes

Tags: @starlitfangirl @starsauroras @drunken-starz @myfriendscallmeraba @thesirenwashere @empress-sei @elrielllll @stars-falling @cirieael @verifiefangirl @verifiefangirl-mainblog @theshadowsinger-and-thefawn @mirainthedark05 @fancyclodpaintercookie @slightly-sane-fangirl @empress-ofbloodshed @sleeping-and-books @b00kworm @kvi-arts @rhysandhlcor @tswaney17 @awkward-avocado-s

#elriel #elain x azriel #elain archeron #azriel #fic #acotar fic #au

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chickensarentcheap · 5 years ago

Text

Best Part of Me -Chapter 51

WARNINGS: SMUT. NSFW

TAGGING: @c-a-v-a-l-r-y, @innerpaperexpertcloud, @alievans007, @ocfairygodmother

He’s stirred awake by the brilliant sunshine that streams through the living room window; groaning loudly when the sudden flash of light is too harsh on his weary eyes. After Yaz had left, they’d retreated inside and had sat on the couch talking; a surprisingly calm and rational conversation considering the tension and stresses that Yaz had left in his wake. It had been a rough end to a great day; all the lighthearted, playful, and loving moments quickly overshadowed by talk of Mahajan. Dhaka. All the things he’d hope to avoid over the course of four days. It wasn’t what he wanted; dwelling on his upcoming departure and the seriousness of the task that lay ahead of him. The verbal acknowledgment of the target on his back and the enormous bounty that has placed on his head; quite the incentive for any street thug or even merc with a score to settle.

When Yaz had shown up, he’d brought months of hostility with him. It hadn’t been handled well; his departure from New Zealand. Once he’d made up his mind...once his sanity hinged on whether he managed to get the hell out...he’d caught the first flight home and never once looked back. He should have dealt with it better; given the rest of the team -especially Yaz and Nik- a decent heads up so they would have a chance to prepare themselves and draw up a new game place. But he’d been desperate; on the verge of mental collapse and worried about the state of his marriage. He’d done what he’d was best not only for himself, but for his wife and children. He would have been of no use to the McMann kids; his brain fractured and fragile and incapable of handling the situation.

There’s no doubt in his mind that he would have died there; unable to do the job properly, putting himself and those kids at risk. It was the smartest thing he could have done. Quit. Regardless of what anyone else says or thinks.

Eight days. With the rising of the sun, the days settle at eight. Just over a week until he’s leaving for Mumbai and embarking on quite possibly the riskiest job he’s ever taken on. The stakes have never been higher; a price on his head, the lives of his family being threatened. He needs to keep his cool; not let his emotions get the better of him. The second guys like Mahajan and his people get into his brain, his need to destroy them will become an obsession. All consuming, unrelenting. And while it’s hard to NOT let his emotions be in control it’s an absolutely necessity to rein them in. His emotions make him weak. Vulnerable. And guys like Mahajan can sense it; they can stop the chinks in the armour from a mile away and they’ll use it to their full advantage. He needs to stay focused; stay on his game. He can’t let them take up space in his brain; once they’re in there, they’ll burrow their way into the deepest and darkest of recesses and it will be impossible to evict them. He’ll be useless then. Unable to protect his own family in the same way he’d been unable to protect the McMann kids. And he’d never forgive himself if his own weakness were his family’s demise.

Sometime during their conversation, they’d both fallen asleep. The last thing he remembers is her climbing off the couch long enough to grab the heaviest blanket off the bed; returning with it wrapped tightly around her body and then laying down with her head in his lap. His hand had been in her hair; fingers combing through those soft, dark tresses and then letting them fall between. And he’s pretty sure he’d fallen asleep to the thought of much he’s been enjoying the time alone with her. How much he’d miss it...her...not only while he was in Mumbai, but if something prevented him from ever getting the chance to be with her again.

He reaches for his phone as it sits on the arm of the couch, quickly checking the time before tossing it onto the cluttered coffee table. Quarter to seven in the morning and not one single reasonable explanation for being up this damn early. No hungry baby to feed, no breakfasts to make, no kids to get ready for school. The silence in the shake is unfamiliar. Eerie. Almost unbearable. He’s spent the last six years (nearly) being surrounded by noise and activity, and it’s become the norm. He doesn’t even think about it anymore; so used to the chaos that anything else feels strange. And he actually finds himself missing it. The middle of the night feedings when the house is still and silent and it’s just him and Addie; those dark eyes staring up at him while he feeds her, all of her fingers wrapped tightly around one of his. Finding himself fascinated by how tiny she is; marvelling at how perfect and beautiful and wondering how a guy like him could ever help make something that incredible. Always falling asleep stretched out on the couch; the impossibly small being resting on his chest, a protective hand never leaving her back.

Or the mornings when he’s still asleep and he can hear the two oldest stirring in their bedrooms; lying in bed listening as the bickering begins and little footsteps can be heard in the hall just before they burst into the master; jumping onto the bed and shrieking and giggling as they attempt to ‘wake him up’. Those tiny yet surprisingly strong and nimble fingers that try and pry his eyes open. The way Declan will climb on top of him and cuddle in close; playing with his ears and stroking his beard as the toddler attempts to lull himself to sleep. It becomes such a huge part of your life, being a parent. Your entire world revolving around those innocent, totally dependent beings. To the point you often forget who you were BEFORE they came along. In his case, that’s a good thing. He doesn’t want to remember what he was like before; his life a disaster before he’d met their mother. She’d been the one who began the job of dismantling the walls he’d built around himself; his kids the ones completing it. Being a dad again has turned him into a different person. A different man. One that isn’t afraid to show emotion or give and receive affection. One that’s finally done things he can be proud of, instead of hating himself for.

Esme remains asleep with her head in his lap; on her back with her face turned towards him, nose pressed into his stomach. Looking so much younger than she is actually is; that smooth, soft skin devoid of any makeup, a touch of pink from the sun gracing her cheeks, the spattering of freckles -that she always complains about- across the bridge of her nose. She’s everything he could have wanted or asked for. Not just as a spouse and the mother of his children, but as a lover, confidant, and best friends. And it’s all those things together that make it even remotely possible to get through all the hard times and his battle with alcohol and pain med dependency and the issues brought about courtesy of his PTSD.

There’s a slight frown playing on his lips when he trails a fingertip over the thin, pale scar that mars her forehead; touching the top of her right eyebrow and travelling upwards into her hairline. There’s others; a couple from when things haven’t gotten out of hand on the job, but most from Mark not being able to keep his fists to himself. The first couple of years had been touch; she’d flinch or jump away if he’d move too quickly while standing near her. Genuine fear on her face if he even did something as simple as raising his hand to push his own hair out of his eyes. If the movement was fast, it would startle her; taking her back to all those times someone had raised their hand to her with the sole intent to harm. It had been hard to break her of that; to get her to completely trust him despite his own issues and his volatile temper and knowing the damage he was capable of causing in his line of work. Always assuring that he’d never...ever...hurt her. How do you hurt someone you love THAT much?

He rests his palm on the side of her face, thumb repeatedly brushing against her cheek; his eyes closing and his head falling back onto the couch. They have a few hours before their planned departure. Driving to Mitchell River National Park, followed by a hike to where they’d camp for two days. Taking her to the last place he’d ever visited; the day drinking trip with Koen and Rata, when he’d jumped off the cliff and scared the shit out of the latter. Things had been different then. HE’D been different. Two after making that jump, Nik would be on his doorstep offering the Dhaka job and he’d be standing in his kitchen, watching that tiny, cute brunette on his front porch. It’s weird how one moment...one decision..,can change the entire direction and outcome of your life. And how everything can go so wrong but turn out so amazing in the end.

She moves against him, rubbing her face against his stomach and then turning her face into his hand. Lips finding the rough skin of his palm before she gives a long, content sigh and then turns her face towards the ceiling and opens her eyes.

“Hi,” she greets, eyes still heavy from sleep, voice small and groggy.

He runs the pad of his thumb along her bottom lip, then smiles. “Hi.”

“What time is it?”

“Early.”

“How early is early?”

“Very early.”

“Can you be a little more specific or…?”

“Just before seven.”

She groans. “You have this uncanny ability of always waking up way earlier than you need to.”

“Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“I guess.” She briefly squeezes her eyes shut, sighing as she stretches languorously; bare feet poking out from the bottom of the blanket. “When do we leave?”

“Not for a while.”

She stares up at him, eyes slightly narrowed.

“A few hours. I forget how you always need things to be accurate. You’re a pain in my ass.”

“It’s a nice ass though,” she says with a grin, and his hand slides down to her throat; chin resting in the curve between his thumb and forefinger as he leans down to kiss her. And she gives a soft smile and a happy sigh as he trails his knuckles along her jaw. “I’ll be back.” she says, as she tosses off the blanket, gathering it up as she slides off the couch. “Oh God…” she grimaces, placing a hand on the small of her back. “...way too many epidurals have fucked me right up.”

“Sixth one should be all natural. A water birth. You can do it. I have faith in you.”

“I haven’t made up my mind about that yet. Don’t get your hopes up. My body is screwed up enough. Why do you want to screw it up even more?”

“It’s a fucking amazing body.” Tyler declares, admiring that familiar yet always alluring and attractive form; clad in just one of his t-shirts, leggings long disposed off.

Her body has changed over the course of seven years, but there’s still no one...no other body...he wants in his bed. His hands and his mouth know every inch of her; every curve and dip and every one of those little places that -when touched or teased- drive her insane. He doesn’t understand the boredom that some men feel being with the same woman for years on end. How can there be anything dull or mundane about someone you love? About knowing someone’s body THAT well? Being in the one that knows that body in a way no one else will ever get the chance to? It’s an ego thing; knowing you’re the only one that gets to experience it, that you’re the one capable of manipulating it and bringing someone that kind of pleasure. It’s a confidence boost AND a turn on. And he feels it now; that stirring of lust and need and want. It’s carnal. Animalistic. Difficult to control even after almost seven years. Both a blessing and a curse in so many ways.

His eyes are closed when she returns, and he groans deep in his throat when she climbs into his lap; arms circling his neck, bare crotch coming in direct contact with the beginning of his sweats covered erection. She knows what she’s doing; how much she drives him crazy. And she’d never hesitates on taking advantage of it.

“What are you doing?” he asks, when he feels the first touch of her lips against her neck; warm and soft as her mouth leaves no inch of the tattoo or the scars untouched.

“You’re so warm,” she replies, and nestles his face into his trap muscle.

“Something tells me you’re not going this to keep warm.”

She grins against the side of his neck. “You’re very perceptive, Tyler Rake.”

“You’re not exactly the most subtle woman on the planet.”

“I’m a woman who knows what she wants. And I want you. Like, right. This second.”

“And you have the nerve to call me ‘extra’?”

“Look, I’m married to the sexiest in the world. I’m alone with him. One hundred percent alone. With no one around to interrupt us. Considering all the time in the past six years we’ve been cock blocked by one or more kids, I deserve this. And it’s to you...husband...to fulfill my needs.”

He grins, hands settling on his hips; unable to hold back the groan as the tip of her tongue both the inner and outer edges of his ear. “It is, is it?”

“Mmm...hmmm. You’re the only one who is allowed to do these things. So it’s ALL up to you. And I know you’re more than capable of giving me what I want.”

“What if I’m not in the mood?”

“Please…” her lips move along his jaw, and she presses her crotch against the bulge in his sweats. “...I know you. You’re always in the mood.”

“You do know me,” Tyler agrees, his hand sliding up the side of her t-shirt. Callused fingertips sliding over and along her ribs as she licks, sucks, and nibbles every inch of the left side of his neck; following the patterns of the tattoo and moving over the scar. Unable to control upwards movement of his hips, pressing his erection against her; feeling the vibration against his throat when she groans.

“I know you very well,” she says, as she begins to grind against him; actions slow and deliberate, giving a small wince when his short nails rake down her sides. “I know you so well, that I know right now you want to go down on me. It’s your favourite thing to do. And you know I’ll never turn it down.”

“And you call me perceptive.” His fingers dig into her hips as he moves her from his lap, dropping her on her back.

She’s grinning mischievously at him as she slides backwards on the couch in order to give his longer, bulkier frame more room. Watching as large hands push her legs apart; beard scratching her skin as his mouth moves along the inside of one thigh, then the other. Her teeth dragging over her bottom lip and her hips rising in anticipation.

“Asshole,” she grumbles, when he lays a heavy forearm across her lower stomach to keep her still. His lips and tongue and teeth bypassing the ultimate goal in favor of teasing the junctures of where hips and thigh meet. Followed by a series of wet kisses and gentle sucks along her pubic bone.

“I’m in charge here,” Tyler informs her, as his fingertips and tongue trace over every one of those faint, slightly raised stretch marks she hates so much.

“Only time you actually are,” she counters.

He raises his head long enough to smirk at her before returning to the task at hand. Mouth now moving lower; hands sliding between her and the couch and settling on her ass. A cheek in each palms; those calluses rubbing against the skin and long, strong fingers kneading, pinching, and biting into the flesh. Mouth hot and moist against one hip, then the other. Taking his time despite the near painful hard on that strains against the fabric of his pants; fighting the urge to take one of his hands off her ass in order to jerk himself off. And he feels her foot sliding up his calf and over his thigh, growling his approval when she pressed it against his cock.

“Stop,” he snarls, and presses his hips into the couch, trapping her foot. “You’ll make me cum if you keep doing that.”

“Doesn’t take much does it,” she teases, then gives a small help when he bite down on her upper right thigh. “What the fuck, Tyler? Are you going with matching marks now? Don’t be a dick. Stop wasting time.”

“I’ll do whatever the fuck I want,” he retorts, a palm moving across her ass; two fingers pushing their way between the cheeks, the tip of one brushing against the tight, puckered hole.

“Holy fuck…” she groans, heaving a heavy sigh as he eyes close, body trembling as a fingertip continues to stroke and gently -and shallowly- prod. “...you need to stop that...you need to...shit...fuck…” she whimpers the last two words as his mouth finally moves to where she wants it. Tongue licking a wide strip from one home opening to the other, then back again, tip pressing against her clit.

It doesn’t take much this morning. A few long, lazy laps and less than thirty seconds of fucking on that rigid, sensitive bud and that relentless teasing of that one finger in and around her ass and her orgasm hits. Both hands tightly gripping his hair; holding his head tightly to her as she cries out. A mix of his name and profanities and incoherent babbling. Her eyes still closed and her body still shaking as he moves his way upwards. Pulling up the bottom of the t-shirt as he goes; leaving it bunched under her chin as he suckles at one breast, then the other. Her juices lingering on his lips and in his beard when he finally kisses her; tongue pushing into her mouth, allowing her to taste herself. Those normally brilliant blue eyes dark and filled with want and need when he pulls back to look down at her.

“You good?” Tyler asks.

She nods, and when he shifts his position and his hips, her foot finds his cock once again.

He smirks. “You’re bad.”

“You like it.”

“I’m not going to like coming like that.”

“How do you want to do it then?”

“You might regret asking that,” he chides, and she shrieks and then giggles when he roughly flips her onto her stomach.

“On your knees,” he orders, and aggressively yanks the shirt over her, tossing it aside.

Hands smooth over her hips and her ass as she does what she’s told. And he leans over to lick a path along her spine, from her tailbone to the back of her neck. Palming his erection as he presses a series of kisses across both of her shoulders, the fingers of his free hand digging into her hip when his teeth make contact with the nape of her neck.

“You are so beautiful,” he praises, roughly squeezing her ass with one hand as the other continues to jerk himself off. His rough palm skimming over soft, supple skin as he reaches around her; two fingers rubbing briefly at her clit before pushing their way inside. “...so beautiful…”

A whimper escapes her lips and her head falls forward when a third finger pushes its way inside; the stretching uncomfortable but not painful. Her breath quickening and her hips moving on their own accord, fucking those long, thick digits.

“Fuck…” he groans, his hand tightening around his cock, teeth grazing against her shoulder.

It’s almost enough; her fucking his fingers and the smell of her and the noises she’s making and his own hand working himself. A long time ago, it WOULD have been. He would have been satisfied enough to finish himself off and not even about whether she got off as well. But it’s different now. HE’S different. And he removes his fingers and pushes her legs further apart, a foot on the floor and a knee on the couch as he brushes the tip of his cock against that warm, slick opening before pushing inside. Slowly and methodically; letting her feel every inch, every second of penetration.

It’s a beautiful sight. The sweat that glistens on her skin and dampens her hair line. Those huge, dark eyes that look over her shoulder at him. The flushed cheeks. And when he pulls out only to push back in with one solid thrust, she cries out and drops her forehead onto the couch. He stays where he is; enjoying the feeling of being buried inside of her. It’s familiar yet still incredible; each and every time. The way she takes him so well, as if her body was made to fit with his in a way no one else’s ever has.

“Tyler…” she groans into the cushion. “...please...fuck me...I need you to fuck me...please…”

“In a second.”

“Not in a second! Now. Fuck me now!”

He smirks. “You ARE demanding,” he declares, then pulls out once more, only to slam back into her. A hand tightly clasping her shoulder, the other gripping her hip. And he repeats the action several times; each thrust a little harder than the last; encouraged by her cries and her whimpers and how tightly every muscle in her body is drawn. “I don’t think so…” he growls when she reaches between her lips, wrapping his fingers around her wrist and pulling her hand away. “...only I get to do that.”

“Don’t do this,” she pleads. “...don’t tease me like this. Just...shit…” she bites down on her bottom lip when the grip on her hip tightens and yanks her back against him; forcing him even deeper. “...oh god...stop...stop teasing me…”

“Tell me what you want.”

“You. I want you.”

He presses her palm against her pussy. “Who does this belong to? Tell me? Who does it belong to?”

“You. It belongs to you, Tyler. Only you.”

“Fucking right it does,” he snarls.

Normally he hates this part of the game. He doesn’t mind being aggressive; he knows how far he can take things, how much that little body can take. But talking like that to her...the love of his life, the mother of his children...always so wrong and he always regrets it afterwards. Always worries he crossed certain boundaries and she’d never tell him if he did. But he can’t control himself; the words that come out of his mouth, his actions. All the frustration and worry and stress and rage pouring out of him. Manifesting itself in sex. And he lets go of her hand in favour of grabbing her hair; wrapping it tightly around his fist as the fingers of his other hand bite into her hip as he gives her what she wants. And what HE needs. A hard, no holds barred fuck; pounding into her at a brutal and unrelenting pace. No longer protesting when she reaches between her legs to play with her clit. Continuing to fuck her and chase after his release; his release ONLY. Until he feels her entire body shuddering and those inner muscles clenching around his cock and he hears the screams that erupt from her.

“I wanna come in your mouth.” Tyler says, only pulling out of her when she gives a nod of consent; his fingers releasing her hair as she turns around.

All the edge and the darkness is gone from his face and eyes as he regards her; his hand now gentle as it pushes through her hair and then cradles her cheek. His own eyes closing and his chest dropping towards his chest when those soft, supple lips close around the head of his cock; her hand resting on top of his as he continues to jerk himself off. Only needing several firm tugs before his hand moves from her cheek to the back of her head, holding her firmly in place as he comes; sending spurts of hot, thick semen down the back of her throat.

A mix of profanities and her name rumbling from deep within his chest; entire body rigid as the combination of her mouth and their hands drain him dry. And his eyes are still closed when his legs threaten to give way. Dropping down onto the couch with low growl; chest heaving, sweat trickling down his temples and the back of his neck. Both arms circling her waist when she once more settles herself in his lap and buries her face in his shoulder.

****

It’s a half an hour hike to the campsite; the exact spot where he’d last visited almost seven years ago. The moment of arrival is bittersweet. Even more so than his return to the shack. He can distinctly remember that time in the water. Sitting on the rocks, filled with the fading images of his dead son; wondering just how long it would take to die if he simply gave up right there. He hadn’t had anything to live for; nothing by a drinking problem and a drug habit and a dog and a chicken at home that could be cared for by anyone. For some reason he didn’t give into the wish for death. Despite the pain and the heartache; the immense guilt, regret, and grief that were devouring him from the inside out.

Two hours later his life would begin to change. Nik would offer him the Dhaka job and Esme would be on his front porch. Those five days in that dirty hotel room would follow; allowing himself to surrender to all consuming want and need. He refuses to think of anything that came after that; how quickly things had gone so wrong. Dwelling on that...that brief moment when he thought she’d died along with the rest of the team, the attack by Farhad and the street thugs, the night at Gaspar’s...will cause even more mental anguish. It all leads up to the Sultana Kamal Bridge, and nothing good comes from thinking about that.

Camp is easy to set up; a small two person tent, a couple of folding chairs, coolers of food and drink, one bag containing changes of clothes they may need. Tyler watches her as she cautiously approaches the edge of the cliff; staying four feet back and standing on her tiptoe in an attempt to see over. Never jumping or flinching when he wraps his arms around her from behind; her faith and trust in him never faltering or wavering. It’s always there; never worrying that he’ll hurt her or lead her into some kind of danger or trouble.

She’s the only person who has trusted him THAT much.

“You can go closer.” he says, using his weight to push her forward. “You’re not going to fall. I won’t let you.”

“It’s pretty high up,” Esme frets.

“It’s only thirty meters.”

“ONLY he says,” she gives a nervous laugh. “You’re not going to throw me off, are you?”

He gives a chuckle. “You’d die.”

“Maybe that’s your plan,” she teases. “Get me here and do away with me. No one would ever know.”

“I kinda like having you around. Besides,” he presses a kiss to her cheek. “I haven’t updated your life insurance policy yet.”

She grins. “So I’m safe for another day.”

“Another few. Takes time to get hold of those people.”

She laughs at that, then gives a frightened squeal; her nails digging into his forearm when her feet come closer to the edge.

“Calm down,” he tightens his hold around her waist and pecks her temples. “I promise you won’t fall. I’ve got you. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

She holds onto his forearms as she kicks loose stones over the edge, watching as the plummet. “You really jumped off this?”

Tyler nods.

“You’re crazier than I thought.”

“It’s not that high. I’ve jumped from higher.”

“Yeah, in the military, with all your gear on. This is different. You DID have a death wish. You’re not expecting me to jump, are you? Because I love you, but no way.”

“Like I said, the drop would kill you. And you’ve got about fifty years left with me, so…”

“You’re not going to jump, right?”

“I’m too old for that shit now.”

“Don’t ever bring the twins here. You KNOW TJ will try it. That kid is fearless. He is all you.”

“Maybe when he’s older,” Tyler reasons. “Ovi’s age. It’s a right of passage; jumping off here. Guy hits a certain age, this is where they come.”

“Are all Australians nuts or is it just you?”

“It’s just me. Do you wanna go down? Go for a swim? We’ll go see the waterfall.”

Her eyes widen. “We’re not jumping, are we?”

“No jumping. I promise. There’s a path that’ll get us down there. Just gotta watch out for snakes. And dingoes.”

“My favorite combination.

“It’s okay, baby. I won’t let a snake or a dingo get you. I can’t say the same if a chupacabra comes at us, though.”

Esme laughs at that. “The chupacabra isn’t even real.”

“You don’t know that.”

“No one has ever seen one. It’s an urban legend.”

“Or maybe whoever HAS seen it, didn’t live to tell about it.”

“What if Slenderman comes for me?”

“How could he? He’s not real.”

“You could take him, I think,” she says, as she turns around to face him. “You could take Slenderman. Just like you could take Jason Bourne. Or that guy Keanu Reeves.”

Tyler grins. “That might be pushing it.”

“I have faith,” she says, then stands on her tiptoes and presses a kiss to his chin. “You haven’t let me down yet.”

****

It takes twenty minutes to get down to the water, and she keeps a secure hold on the back of his shirt the entire time; somewhat comforted by the presence of the holster and gun on his right hip. It isn’t for any aggressive wildlife they may encounter, and she knows that. It’s a very real possibility that someone IS following them; most likely since they left home. Anyone could be watching them; whether it’s someone Anil has sent to keep an eye on things, or one of Mahajan’s people. She tries not to let it bother her; put at ease by not only her husband’s confidence when it comes to handling any situation thrown their way, but the knowledge that there’s nothing he wouldn’t do to protect her.

“This place is insane,” she breathes, as they find a small, grassy clearing near the water. A hand over her eyes shielding them from the sun as she takes in their surroundings; the looming limestone cliffs and the plummeting waterfall less than a hundred yards away. And she rummages through the backpack he’d brought along; going through the changes of clothes before locating her cellphone and taking a handful of pictures. “Is it safe down here?”

“As safe as it can be, I guess. All we’re going to see is wildlife, unless…”

Tyler doesn’t finish, words trailing off he does off his shoes and peels off his tank; tossing the latter onto a nearby rock, then placing the holster and gun underneath it. He hasn’t seen or heard anything that remotely suggests that someone is following them. At least not yet. And he doesn’t protest when she wants to take a selfie with the waterfall in the background to send to the kids; wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing his lips to her cheek.

“How many girls have you actually brought down here?” Esme asks, eyes sparkling playfully. “Where am I on the list?”

“First and only,” he answers honestly, as he stands calf deep in the cold, refreshing water and watches as she slips out of her clothes. Eyes widening and a grin spreading across his face as he catches sight of the two piece bathing suit she wears; candy apple red and held in place with a bow at the back of her neck and on each hip.

“What?” she asks, and gives a nervous laugh. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“I’m admiring.”

“Admiring what? All the fat and the stretch marks?”

“I don’t see what you see.”

“You need glasses then.”

“Is that what you bought?” he asks. “When we went into town that day?”

She nods, then drops her discarded clothes on top of his. “You don’t like it?”

“Oh I like it. I like it a lot, actually.”

“You always complain about all my other suits. That I need to cover that much.”

“You don’t. It’s all in your head; this bullshit about your body. You look amazing.”

“Even after five kids?”

“ESPECIALLY after five kids. You’re fucking sexy. Isn’t how horny I get around you...and how often I do...evidence of that?”

“I don’t know,” she gathers her hair into a ponytail, securing it with an elastic she sports around her waist. “You pitch a tent if there’s a stiff breeze in the room. Maybe you’re just easy to please.”

“Or maybe in my eyes, you’re the most beautiful, sexy woman on the planet.”

Esme grins, then gingerly makes her way along the rocks. “Not cute?”

“You’re that too,” Tyler assures her.

She cautiously dips her toes in the water, then curls her fingers around his when he offers a hand. “Wait…” she pauses. “...are there alligators in here?”

“No.”

“Okay…”

“Because we’re in Australia and we have crocodiles here, not alligators.”

She scowls and draws her hand back.

“I’m just saying. How many times have I been over this with you? Australia? Crocodiles. Where you’re from? Alligators.”

“There are no alligators in Colorado.”

“You know what I mean. And no. There are no crocodiles here.”

“If there is…” she once more takes his hand. “...I’m the faster swimmer and I’m letting them eat you. I love you, but someone has to be the sacrifice to the crocodile gods.”

“I promise you that there’s no crocodiles here. You think I’d bring you here...in the water...if there was?”

“I don’t know. You’re a crazy Aussie, after all,” she teases, as she wraps both arms around one of his as he leads the way further into the water.

“Technically, you’re an Aussie too,” Tyler informs her.

“By marriage only. You realize both girls were born here, right? None of the boys were. So only Millie and Addie are proper Aussies. The rest of us are pretend ones.”

“Wannabes,” he says. “You’re all wannabe Aussies.”

“I’m good with that. I married the best one.” She waits until the water is almost over her head before jumping onto his back; arms around his neck, legs around his torso. “Best decision ever! Marrying a ridiculously tall guy.”

“You’re like four feet,” he chides. “Everyone’s taller than you.”

“Excuse you, but I’m five four!”

“Bullshit. I have more than a foot on you.”

“Okay, so I’m more like five two and a bit. And you’re absurdly tall. Like a sasquatch. Only better looking. You’re all torso and limbs. So are Millie and TJ. I think Declan’s going to be tall too.”

“That kid’s fucking huge. He’s going to be like six six and built like a tank. Come to think of it, the cable guy did have a couple inches on me.”

“Dick wise?” she teases, and bites his earlobe.

“You know what?” He reaches back and grabs her by the upper arms, effortlessly throwing her over his head into the water. And she’s laughing when she resurfaces, tucking wayward strands of wet hair out of her eyes and behind her ears.

“I’m onto you, Tyler Rake,” she says, as she treads water. “You’re not going to throw me off the cliff. You’re going to drown me.”

“I SHOULD drown you for the dick comment.”

“I know you’re sensitive about it. About your dick. No!” she shoves him away when he reaches for her. “You’re going to drown me. I know you are.”

“Why would I drown you when people know we’re here together? If I don’t show up at home with you and your body washes up somewhere, it’s obvious who killed you.”

“Good point.”

“There’s other ways to do it. Ways I could make it look like an accident.”

“There’s no way you’re going to kill me,” she says, as she wraps her arms around his neck once more, this time from the front. “There’s no payout. That’s what you get for not being on top of things.”

“There’s something I’d like to be on top of right now.”

Esme smirks. “You’d think you never get any. That you’re sex starved or something. I don’t think all forty year old men are perpetually horny.”

“Guess you’re lucky you married the right one.”

“I already know THAT.” she says, as she pushes a hand through his wet hair and then holds his face in her hands as she kisses him. The tip of her tongue gliding over his top lip when she pulls away. “What if someone IS watching?”

“Let them. They might learn something.”

“You ARE a good teacher,” she reasons, and then sighs when his mouth finds the side of her neck. Eyes closing and her head falling forward onto his shoulder as he licks, nibbles, and sucks at the tender skin.

“What are these for?” Tyler asks, as his fingers tug on the bow on her left hip. “Easy access?”

“Why do you think I said it was for me AND you?”

He grins. “I like the way you think.”

“You like the way I do a lot of things,” she declares, then winces when the back of her head comes in contact with one of the towering, limestone walls of the gorge. “Are you serious right now?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?”

“You don’t want to wait until we get back to camp?”

“Nope.” He yanks at the ties on the one side of her bathing suit, then pushes the fabric aside and lays his palm against her mound. Kissing her deeply as he pushes two fingers inside of her.

“I think there’s something wrong with us,” she says, as his free hand shoves his board shorts off his hips and over his ass. “This can’t be normal. WE can’t be normal. Wanting each other THIS much.”

“Babe, we are so far past normal we’re not even on the chart anymore.”

“Very true,’ she agrees, and then whimpers when he pushes into her; forehead meeting his shoulder and her nails scraping across his back and down his sides, hands settling on his hips. “You feel so good…” she whispers. “...you always feel so good.”

“I love you.” His movements still as he says it, lips pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “So much.”

“I love you, Tyler. More than you could ever know.”

He takes it slower this time; both arms wrapped tightly around her, careful to watch her back against the rocks. And when he comes...shortly after her...it’s with her name on his lips.

****

“I know you’re worried.”

Tyler’s eyes snap open from behind his sunglasses, and he turns his head towards her. They lay on a blanket near the water; spread across a small patch of grass. And while he’s stretched out flat on his back, she sits beside him with her legs folded; drinking a bottle of Gatorade and eating from a can of Pringles. He’s pretty sure he’d dozed off; the sun has shifted and the temperature feels a few degrees cooler.

Her hair is still damp and now hangs loose along the sides of her face and over her shoulders, and she wears one of his t-shirts that he’d brought along over her bathing suit. There’s chafing from his beard along the sides of her throat, and a faint bite mark on her right collarbone; the edge of it poking it from the neck of the shirt. He’d taken her twice in the water; second time from behind and much harder and aggressive. And even with her legs crossed he can the bruising on her inner thighs; proof of two days of often rough and intense sex.

He closes his eyes once more and reaches out to lay a hand on the small of her back as the other rests on his stomach. “What makes you think I’m worried?”

“Because I know you. And you can’t turn things off. Not when there’s a threat. Especially with something as serious as this. You are who you are, Tyler. You can’t change that. And I wouldn’t want you to.”

He sighs.

“And you’ve barely been sleeping,” Esme adds.

“I’ve always had issues sleeping. Ever since we met.”

“It’s different when you’re worried. I’ve been sharing a bed with you for how long now? I know you. I know your habits. You’re getting up several times a night and I know it’s not always because of pain. I know the difference; in things that bother you.”

“Am I really THAT predictable?”

“I’m sure there’s things you notice about me. Little things I do. Habits. You’ve probably never thought about them, but I’m sure you’d recognize when I change. When I change.”

Tyler nods in agreement.

“Are you scared?” She asks.

“Of what?”

“Mahajan.”

He groans as he sits up, left hand rubbing at his right shoulder. “Maybe a little.”

“What are you scared of?”

He helps himself to a swig of her Gatorade. “There’s a few things.”

“Like?”

“How about you stop worrying about what’s going on in my head,” he suggests.

“You know I’m always going about that. About you.”

“I’m telling you that you don’t need to. You let me worry about what’s going on in my own brain, yeah? You’ve got enough going on in your own head.”

“And I’m telling YOU...for the hundredth goddamn time...that YOU need to stop holding things back. I’m not a child, Tyler. You don’t need to coddle me. I’m a grown woman. And I’m your wife and the mother of your children. I’m the person you SHOULD be talking to.”

“I know…” He lays a hand on the side of her head and pulls her into him, pressing a kiss to her temple. “...I know you worry and I know you want me to tell you things. But have you ever thought that I don’t tell you because I want to protect you?”

“Protect me from what? You? Because I’ll tell you right now that that's a bunch of shit and you know it.”

He sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t want to fight.”

“I’m not fighting. I’m talking. WE’RE talking. Which is one the reason we did all of this in the first place. Going away together. So we COULD talk.”

“Not about this.”

“When else are we going to talk about it? We won’t be able to when we get home. Not with the kids there. And you leave in eight days. And those eight days are going to fly by and then you’ll be gone and I don’t know if I’m ready for that. I don’t know if I'm ready to say goodbye to you.”

“We don’t say THAT word,” he reminds her. “We NEVER say it. So don’t say it now. That word doesn’t exist when it comes to us. We agreed to never...ever...say it.”

“I’m scared,” she says, tears brimming her eyes. “I’m scared you’re going to walk out the door and I’m never going to see you again. At least not alive.”

“I’m scared of that too,” Tyler admits, and his hand falls to her shoulder, drawing her into his side.

“I know you have to do this. I understand it. This more than any other job you’ve ever done. But it doesn’t make it any easier; watching you walk out the door. And I know you can’t promise me that you’re coming back. But at least promise me that you’ll try. That you’ll do whatever you have to try and get home.”

“I will, baby. I’ll do what I have to. Whatever it takes.”

“Because this life would totally suck without you. I’d miss you too much. And there’s no way I can take care of five kids on my own.”

“You’d be fine,” he rubs her arm comfortingly. “You’re strong. The strongest person I know.”

“I don’t WANT to do it without you. This life. And I know I’m supposed to be some strong, independent woman that can handle everything on her own and that I probably sound really weak and whiny right about now.”

“You don’t. You don’t sound like that.”

“But I love you and I need you here. And our kids need you. Especially the boys. They need their dad. I don’t want them growing up without you. And I don’t want to grow old without you. No matter how much you drive me crazy.”

He gives a small laugh.

“Promise me, Tyler. Promise me you’ll do whatever you have to try and come home.”

“I promise,” he says, dropping a kiss on the top of her head before tightening his hold on her.

And they sit there, pressed together. Neither of them speaking...or moving...until the sun begins to set on the horizon.

#tyler rake #tyler rake fan fiction #tyler rake fan fic #extraction #best part of me #chris hemsworth character

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porkchop-ao3 · 5 years ago

Text

A Thrill I’ve Never Known (Chapter 53)

Ball and Chain

Arthur and reader discuss their situation. Thank you guys for all the support on the last chapter after I expressed my worries about it, btw!!

Tagging @emily-strange ❤

(All chapters tagged with #ATINK and also posted on Ao3, username PorkChop)

During Arthur's brief return, we hadn't had time to discuss how things had gone with Penelope and Beau (despite his busted lip that I was quick to ask about), Arthur had left for Annesburg as soon as I told him what Micah said. But when he got back that night, he filled me in on the details of the day. I was shocked to hear that simply accompanying Penelope to the train station had turned into Arthur shooting Christ knows how many members of the Braithwaite family from a moving train, but in the end Penelope and Beau got their happy ending. He left them with the stagecoach driver, taking them away to their new life together with a bag-full of stolen jewellery. A piece of which Penelope had given to Arthur as thanks for all of the help, a beautiful stone encrusted bracelet, probably worth a hefty sum. Arthur told me he intended to sell it, keep the money just for us, not giving the camp a cut for once in his life. I could tell it took a lot for him to come to that decision.

And Cornwall was dead. He told me that after a long pause when we were both bedding down for the night. Part of me was surprised that he hadn't told me that as soon as he returned, but the way he said it told me that he hadn't exactly been prepared for it happening. He told me that Dutch had said they were paying a social call, confirming what Micah had said about trying to cut a deal to get him off our backs. But it had turned into a bloodbath, just as most jobs did these days, and Dutch had shot Cornwall, point-blank. They were swarmed with Pinkertons and they had to shoot their way out of Annesburg, barely escaping.

"And Micah thinks there's a rat," he said after relaying the gory details. He huffed an incredulous laugh.

"In the gang? He reckons one of us is squealing?"

"Mmhm, thinks the Pinkertons have been showing up too fast for it to be a coincidence," he sighed. I blinked up at the top of the tent. I thought about all the gang members, picturing each person's face, unable to make any sort of guess as to whether Micah's claims could be true. I just didn't see any of them talking. "He says we should start cutting folk loose, go back to Blackwater and get the money stashed there, and get out of here."

"Who's he wanna cut loose, exactly?" I frowned.

"Well, he was speaking to Dutch at the time. I got the distinct impression that by 'we', he meant him and Dutch," he murmured monotonously and deeply. "Sod the rest of us."

"He's… he really kisses Dutch's ass, don't he? It's almost uncomfortable," I whispered.

"Mm, seems everyone sees it but Dutch himself. Micah's a creep, through and through."

"I'm embarrassed I ever gave him a chance. At the start, when we worked together a few times, I kept thinking he had potential to be a decent feller," I mumbled, shaking my head.

"Don't be embarrassed. You hadn't seen the full spectrum of his charming personality just yet," he snorted. "I think we all wanted to give him a chance at the start. Thought he was just a bit of an odd feller, not very nice. But we never warmed to him, not with all his behaviour."

"How can he come in and accuse someone else of being a rat? My understanding is he's one of the newest folks, apart from me or Sadie," I said then I frowned, swallowing. "Or Kieran."

Arthur read my mind. "Kieran ain't the rat. Least I don't think so."

"You know that's who Micah will pick on, though. He was with the O'Driscolls," I whispered, rolling over onto my side and peering over the edge of the bed to look at Arthur where he was lying on the floor.

"His name did come up," he sighed. "And would you believe it, Dutch was even thinking about John when we was in Guarma."

"John? He thought John was a rat?" I balked.

"Yeah, I know," he murmured monotonously, shaking his head. "But I don't believe it's either of them. I don't believe we've got a rat full stop. We've just been sloppy, we ain't exactly been subtle. 'Specially not by blowing a hole in Leviticus Cornwall's chest, when we're camping not five minutes away!" He shook his head irritably.

"Jesus," I hissed, screwing my face up.

"Dutch is losing it. Or he already has, completely. I don't know," he whispered sharply.

"What's he supposing we do?"

"Wants to make a bunch of smoke, create a big enough distraction for us lot to piss off out of the state, maybe even the country, that's what he's supposin'," he told me, humour building in his throat.

"Or do increasingly reckless bullshit until every one of us is lying in an unmarked grave and every Pinkerton on the case gets a medal," I proposed, and Arthur hummed his agreement. "Christ, Arthur, we can't do this. We can't go along with him. None of us, what if we start asking folk… seeing who'd be prepared to leave with us?" I suddenly asked, the words splurging from me without thought. His eyes widened a bit and he looked me in the eye in the dim light shining through the tent from the campfire.

"You're really suggesting that we try and divide the gang, try and leave Dutch high and dry?" He sputtered. My heart thudded. Shit. I'd gone too far.

"No. Never mind," I rolled back onto the bed, staring up above.

"Wait, I ain't mad. Sorry, that came out different to how I meant," he shifted, sitting up and leaning his elbows on the bed. "I just– I couldn't. I ain't a leader, princess. I can't be what Dutch was to me."

"You wouldn't want to be what Dutch was to you," I replied instantly. His brow furrowed. "I don't doubt he was good to you over the years, provided you with a purpose and taught you all you needed to know to get by in this life. But that don't change the fact that lately all he's been doing is treating you like a grunt! You won't ever be like Dutch. And that's a good thing."

Arthur was stunned by my words and I immediately began to feel anxious. I really was pushing my luck. If I wasn't careful I'd end up saying something that hurt him, and that's the last thing I wanted. I might've already done it.

"I'm sorry. I'm just getting nervous. Hell, not even just getting there, I'm extremely nervous. I'm petrified that Dutch is gonna have one of his crazy moments again and you're gonna get hurt because of it, I'd never forgive him if something happened to you 'cause of his recklessness," I continued.

"I won't let that happen."

"I wish I could be reassured by that. But you ain't always in control of what happens, you can't say that."

Arthur sighed, looking down.

"I… I know I ain't in control. I know I can't promise you anything. I'm just trying to– to spin too many plates at once but at this point I don't know how to stop. It ain't that easy," he whispered, and he sounded defeated. I instantly felt guilty. "I don't want to make excuses, and I don't wanna let you down."

"You've never let me down. Don't worry about that," I shook my head and sat up on my elbow, looking at him properly.

"My head's been all over the place. So much has– I still ain't wrapped my head 'round what's happened these past weeks, I can barely think straight half the time and I just can't figure out what to do," he sighed, dragging his hand over his face. My lips parted and I stared at him. "Guarma; that bank job, everything went so fast and I never had a chance to stop and think and now we've moved again, and Dutch is on about making noise and leaving the country, and I– I don't like any of this. I don't like what he's doing but I wrack my brains and I just can't think of a goddamn thing to say to him to make him see sense!"

"Arthur, I'm sorry, I keep putting pressure on you," I breathed, shaking my head.

Arthur gestured towards my leg. "And this is the second time you could've been killed just 'cause I can't be a damn man and do right by you. And– and I know this and yet I still can't–" he stopped, sitting back, resting his elbows on his knees and hanging his head. "This is the same shit Mary left me for."

"I ain't leaving you. I ain't Mary," I hissed. If I sounded angry, I didn't mean to.

"I know you're not, princess, you ain't nothing like her. Nothing like her at all, I'm sorry, I just meant that it weren't good enough for her so why on earth should it be good enough for you?"

"Arthur, I don't know what you want me to say," I shook my head. "You're telling me that your hesitance to get out is gonna make me leave you or something, but then you say you can't get out. Every time we talk about this it goes nowhere, and we're just gonna keep going 'round and around in circles. I just want you to think about if it's what you actually want," I kept my voice as level as possible.

"Of course I want it," he told me, brows curving upwards. "Wouldn't be saying it if I didn't."

"I know you worry about the gang. But look at them, they're a whole group of adults, and they're all following Dutch. Nobody is expecting you to make sure they're all okay, that ain't your responsibility,” I told him, thinking about what Charles had said.

"I know," he said, his tone a bit sharp and irritated, not at me, but at the situation. Like he didn't want to admit that it was true.

"Does that bother you? That you ain't responsible?" I asked, my brows quirking in surprise.

"No! You know why I can't leave, and I know you’re scared… But I am too. Truth be told I'm scared for if I stay and I'm scared for if I leave."

"If you leave?" I repeated, not exactly expecting that.

"Yes. What if I can't do it?" He hissed, and I could simply frown in response. "What if I end up messing up and going back to my old ways and letting you down? Hosea once left. He and Bessie, the woman he loved with all his heart, they went off on their own and he ended up coming back because he was too set in his ways."

"Really?" I asked, mouth agape. I must’ve looked so dumb.

”What if I'm like that? What if I can't give you everything you need?" He continued, moving closer to the bed and leaning close to me, taking one of my hands in both of his. "I want you. I want to go, I do. But in the back of my mind all I can think about is ruining both of our lives if I don't act right. I spent a lot of years being this way. What if I can't change? Mary wanted me to– I never could for her. What if I–"

I frowned in a different way at the mention of Mary again, a little annoyed. "I don't want you to change, like she did," I told him more sharply than necessary. I softened when he seemed to realise his error. "I ain't expecting you to all of a sudden go out and get yourself a fancy job somewhere, get us a big house with lots of neighbours and a dog and all this normal stuff. I don't want any of that. Well, I wouldn't mind having a dog…"

"You can have all the dogs you want," he breathed a laugh.

"Arthur, I'll be honest; if we have to… live in the grey areas of the law to get by, then, well, as long as we ain't doing nothing too big or loud, how's it different to the way I've always lived?" I admitted, shrugging softly. "You know I weren't always lawful when I was on my own. Don't change, Arthur. Just do what you have to do and always come home to me as the man I fell in love with."

"You mean that? You wouldn't be upset if I– if I can't settle into a normal life that easy?"

"Of course I wouldn't. Arthur, I'll probably struggle too. I don't mind waiting for it, neither. Just don't make me wait too long, till it can't happen no more," I whispered to him. "That's all I ask."

He pressed his forehead to my arm gently. “What worries me is you keep on reassuring me like this but nothing ever changes. I just can’t go yet, and I want you to really understand why so you won't start thinking I’m always putting you last and you ain’t important.”

"I'm trying to understand. Tell me what's going on in your head," I pleaded, stroking his hair.

"I will try my best. My head ain't exactly easy to figure out right now. Usually when I'm with you I can forget most of the shit going on and I'm happy, and I can't wait to get out with you," he spoke slowly and monotonously, as if he really had to try to word it right. "But then I go out on a job and it brings me right back down to earth, I get pulled back in the other direction, reminded of how many years I sunk into this gang and I can't just leave, not without making things right. Or at least trying to. And I owe that to you, too," he lifted his head and met my eyes.

"To me? Why?" I frowned.

"I ain't done much good in my life. I don't like who I am, who I have been, how can I give you everything you deserve if I can't even redeem myself and do one good thing before this gang crumbles to dust?" His response caught me off guard. "I told you before I'm scared, and this is all part of that. If I can't show you that I can do right by these people I been loyal to for years, then what would my loyalty to you even mean? I'm scared that even if I say fuck it to everything and just run off with you, leaving all this behind, I ain't gonna be doing you a service. 'Cause all I'd be showing you is I ain't deserving of your trust."

And suddenly, despite the fact that I didn't want to accept it, I understood.

Arthur needed this, not just because he cared for these people, but because he had to see it through for himself. He had to prove to himself that he could deserve the out our relationship had given him. He did deserve it, of course he did, but nothing I could say would convince him until he'd proved it to himself. And that's what getting John and his family and the others out would do, prove to him that he was good. At least, good enough to deserve something better than the pain and struggle his life up until that point had given him.

And if Arthur was important to me and I genuinely wanted him to be happy; I had to let him do it.

"Okay," I whispered. "I get it, I do."

"Yeah?" He breathed. "You ain't just saying that to be kind to me?"

"No, I understand. I'm scared, but I know that you need this. I ain't gonna be the one to hold you back," I told him, flipping my hand to interlace our fingers.

"Angel, I don't want to let you down. You're my world, you know that, don't you? I gotta do this so I can be the best I can for you. I won't be able to do that if I live with regrets, about the things I failed to do," he said, kissing the back of my hand.

"I trust you. I really do. If you gotta do this and you promise me you'll draw lines where you have to, and you ain't gonna let Dutch use you like your life don't even matter," I squeaked, shaking my head, "then I won't put no more pressure on you. I'll be patient."

"I'll look out for myself," he nodded, "I got more reason than I ever really have to keep myself safe."

That was a little painful to hear. I reached my free hand out to cup his cheek. "I love you," I told him.

"And I'm real lucky you do. I don't know of many women who'd put up with me being like this," he exhaled a sheepish laugh, shaking his head.

"I guess that's lucky for me," I smirked a little and he chuckled.

"I love you too, my darlin', don't forget that you're what's pushing me to be better."

"Just… let's not have this conversation again until it's the right time to go. It feels like we've had it a million times and it ain't ever ended in us packing our bags– well. It did once, but things were different then," I said, remembering when our plans felt solid, when the gang was going to flee and be safe and Arthur and I were going to leave together. Before the bank. Before Guarma. "What I'm saying is, I don't want to go around in circles again. Next time we talk about this, it's gonna end in us leaving, okay?"

"Alright, beautiful. I'll… I'll start working on Dutch. If somehow I can convince him to use all that money we been saving to clear off for good," he trailed off, shaking his head. "I don't know how long it'll take."

"It'll take as long as it takes," I shook my head and smiled at him, brushing my thumb across his cheek bone. Then I kissed him, holding him close and tender like the treasure he was.

A man I hadn't seen before walked into camp, guided by Charles, as well as Karen and Javier who had both been on guard duty. His hair was long and though I didn't know for sure, I wondered if it was one of the people from the Wapiti reservation that Charles and Arthur had been helping. My guess was solidified when Arthur – who was speaking with Dutch at the time – appeared to know him, and introduced them. They all spoke for a while, and my position across the other side of the camp meant I didn't hear a word. I was surprised that he'd come to our camp, and I wondered what had happened to make him do so.

Eventually Dutch made the first step towards the horses, and the man immediately followed. Charles and Arthur seemed reluctant to follow too, but they did. I frowned and sat upright, swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, very gingerly lowering them to the ground so I could watch as they all mounted up and rode away from camp.

I glanced around, wondering if anyone around had heard what their conversation was all about, or what they were heading out to do. A sickly sense of anxiety settled like a boulder in my stomach once again and I began to panic that I could never, ever watch Arthur leave camp again without feeling complete dread. I'd come close to losing him too many times and now I'd been trained to expect the worst.

With a groan I pushed myself to my feet, grabbing the cane that Arthur had fashioned out of a big stick he'd found so that I could start moving around. I could walk okay, I just had to move carefully as to not tug on the delicate, healing skin around my knee, the cane was there to keep my balance. I walked my way over to the stew pot, figuring that eating something might settle me a bit, I hadn't eaten anything since breakfast and even then I'd just had some biscuits.

I served myself up a bowl of stew and hobbled my way over to the campfire, sitting down on one of the storage crates and dropping my cane down on the ground beside me. I tucked into my food, relieved to have a warm meal to pull my focus to. I saw Mary-Beth getting herself some food too, and she started heading towards me, sitting down on a nearby log.

"It's good to see you up and about," she commented.

"Yeah, I couldn't stay flat on my back forever, my leg ain't really hurting no more. Miss Grimshaw said as long as I'm careful with it, it'll do me good to be more mobile," I replied, nodding before blowing on a steaming forkful of meat and vegetables and popping it into my mouth.

"That's good, it can't be nice when you're always so eager to keep yourself busy," she laughed a little, and I met her eyes.

"Thanks for the books, by the way. I finished the one with the field of lavender, the French woman," I murmured, looking towards the tent as if I could see the book and read the title from there.

"The Castle in the Field of Lavender," Mary-Beth nodded. "Complete nonsense, isn't it? But I love it nonetheless," she giggled.

"I can certainly agree that it's nonsense," I chuckled, "but it provided a much needed distraction. I liked it," I grinned.

"How're you feeling?" She asked.

"I'm– I'm okay. Yeah, been a tough time lately, ain't it? But I'm sure things will start looking up now we're in a new camp, we're all together," I said with a nod.

"You think so?" She questioned, a frank look of doubt on her face.

"You don't think so?" I countered.

"I don't really know what to think," she exclaimed, shaking her head regretfully.

"No, I guess I don't either," I sighed, stirring through my stew.

"All I know is I hate it here, this place gives me the creeps," she made a show of shuddering, then took a bite of food, swallowing before continuing, "worse than the swamp."

"We're safe. All these people here, looking out for each other, it might be creepy here but nothing's gonna happen," I tried to reassure her, and she nodded. "Do you know what all that was about; with that feller who came to camp just now?"

"Karen said his name was Eagle Flies," she said, and I nodded in recognition, "something about some horses being stolen. I figured the boys went to help get them back."

"Stolen horses," I mused thoughtfully, "doesn't sound like something Dutch would be too concerned about with all that's going on," I pondered.

"Hmm, now you mention it," she nodded slowly, "well, I don't know. Maybe there's money to be made, I don't see why Dutch would risk everything if it weren't worth it. Not with the Pinkertons turning up all the time."

I was quiet for a moment, eating my food and considering my next words. When I settled on them, I glanced around before leaning forwards a bit.

"Uh, Mary-Beth," I said under my breath, and she caught my tone and scooted closer to me, her eyes widening with a cute kind of intrigue at the secrecy. "Do you think that… that Dutch maybe ain't been using the best judgement as of late?"

"What d'you mean?" She asked, her eyes narrowed and her head shaking in confusion.

"Well," I began, my tone light and careful, "he trusted Bronte with that trolley station tip, when that was a set up he killed him and then expected everything to be okay when he went and robbed the bank? I don't know, I thought he was meant to be real smart."

"Oh, I don't know what to say. I never really thought about it that way before," she sighed softly, frowning to herself.

"You haven't? Perhaps it's just me being paranoid, then," I dismissed, lessening my conviction, trying to brush it off as a passing thought. I didn't want anything blown out of proportion.

"No, I don't think so. Perhaps you're right. When you put it like that, it don't sound all that smart, why'd you think he'd take those risks without thinking of the consequences?" She questioned.

"Well, that's it. I don't know. That's why I wanted to ask you, you've been here much longer, I just wondered if you'd noticed a change or if he's always been like this," I shrugged.

"No, he hasn't. The gang has changed a lot in the last few months, doing things that we wouldn't ordinarily do. I put it down to heavier pressure from all of our enemies but sometimes I wonder if we're going too far, truth be told. As soon as Jack got dragged into our problems, I stopped feeling safe," she admitted to me, her voice tiny and barely audible. "But I never blamed anyone in particular for it, 'specially not Dutch."

I shook my head. "I ain't suggesting that you should. I'm just thinking out loud. I'm pretty scared."

"You're scared? Even with Arthur looking out for you?" Her brows raised softly and with concern.

"It's… it's Arthur I'm scared for. I'm a woman. I ain't really had to deal with the things he has in this gang, nobody's forcing me to go out and shoot Pinkertons and rob banks! I've only gotta worry about my safety when they find our camp. But he–" I stopped, shaking my head and sighing. "Every time he goes out since Guarma, I feel sick."

"Oh, I see…" she said solemnly, looking down. "And I guess you're worried, what with Dutch's recent ideas, that Arthur's gonna get hurt because of him."

"I am," I nodded.

Mary-Beth pressed her lips together and tilted her head, considering her response carefully. "Dutch has always been something of a father to folks. Some more than others. But Arthur has been with him the longest, you know that. I don't think Dutch would let any harm come to him, not on purpose."

"Mm," I made a quiet sound, finishing off my food to avoid responding. I didn't believe her. Not that she was lying, she wouldn't be remiss for thinking that way. But ever since he was captured by the O'Driscolls, I really struggled to fall into such naive, blind trust of Dutch Van Der Linde.��

"Have you thought about leaving?" She asked, her tone high pitched and girlish and curious, like the question was more insignificant than it actually was. "Seriously, I mean. Not just a spur of the moment thing, like what Arthur was saying when your leg got burned," she clarified, and I was reminded of all the people who'd heard that conversation.

Even so, I struggled to form a response.

"I have," I finally answered, emphasising the 'I' to avoid incriminating Arthur. I wanted only to speak for myself.

"Between me and you… so have I," she replied, shocking me. I gazed at her with wide eyes as she stared into the fire. "When I found out Molly had gone, I started wondering if the gang would fall apart, then I panicked, thinking about what I'd do if it did. Sometimes I think I should jump ship before I go down with it," she revealed, and her words rang in my ears with such clarity I wanted to capture the moment and show it to Arthur, because it made such sense the way she said it. But I'd promised him I wouldn't put pressure on him to get out while he felt his work was not yet done.

"I understand," I nodded. "And I wouldn't judge you if you did. Not even a little," I whispered.

"Really?" She met my eyes.

"Same reason I didn't judge Molly. I think if someone knows they can find happiness elsewhere, they should seek it without judgement. Especially with how things are right now, we're all scared for our lives."

"I spoke to Kieran about it," she told me. "I don't know how he feels about it but I… I like him. A great deal. Sometimes I daydream about how life could be, and it makes me happier than I ever am when I'm living outside of my head, in the real world. Do you know what I mean?"

"More than I care to admit," I nodded.

"Kieran and I have some… shared feelings, I s'pose you'd say. But we don't make a spectacle of it, we're very discreet," she said, and I smiled a little, seeing myself in her. She thought she was telling me something I didn't know, when everyone was aware at least on some level that something had blossomed between the two. Just like Arthur and me in the beginning. I didn't burst her bubble though.

"Are you, uh, officially involved? Like, say, me and Arthur?"

"Don't make me kiss and tell," she giggled, a grin spreading across her face.

"So you've kissed him?" I grinned, teasing her.

"I might have," she answered coquettishly, lifting a shoulder and peering over it at me.

"Considering the kind of novels you read and the way you spoke to me about Arthur, I would've thought you'd be more chatty about such a thing!"

"Well, it's different when it's yourself, ain't it?"

"Now you see why I was so embarrassed," I chuckled, shaking my head. "Don't worry, I'll have mercy on you."

"I appreciate it," she laughed, "anyway, I didn't bring him up to gush about it… I was just saying, if I had my way, if my dreams could come true, he and I would leave together, and we'd puzzle together as normal a life as we could," she sighed.

"That's a sentiment I certainly share," I nodded. "Well, good luck to you, Mary-Beth."

"And to you," she returned, wearing a warm smile and rosy cheeks. "Let me take your bowl," she offered, getting up to wash her own.

"Thank you," I said as I handed it over, and watched as she left. I glanced at the fire for a while, watching the glowing embers rising. It never had the same impact in the daylight as it did at night time, always felt different.

I reached into the top of my shirt, retrieving the locket that hadn't left my neck since it was put there. I held it away as far as the chain would allow and popped it open, looking at the crudely cut out little photograph of Arthur, wondering what he was doing right that moment. I prayed the situation with the horses was a simple problem to resolve, and he would return to me so that I could see him sit down by this very fire with a warm bowl of stew, allowing himself the small luxuries that I was able to have.

But I didn't see him for a while after he left. After getting back the horses for the Wapiti people, Dutch and Charles had returned without him after nightfall. I was told that he was camping out somewhere away from the main camp, he had to meet with Bill and Micah in the morning for another job and he had someone to see in Annesburg, but there were no more details than that. I was disappointed, of course. It wasn't out of the ordinary for Arthur to spend many nights away from camp, the only reason he spent most nights in camp now was because of me, he told me he preferred getting to bed down with me over being out in the middle of nowhere. But I had to remind myself that he had important things to do and he wouldn't stay away just for the sake of it, I needed to hush down my selfishness and allow him to do what he needed to do. It was a theme cropping up all too often, and I had to battle myself on it. I would not become his ball and chain.

#rdr2 #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #fanfiction #arthur morgan x reader #atink #arthur morgan x female reader #reader insert #rdr2 fanfic

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