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spicyclover · 1 year

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Ultimatum | Part four

Summary: You give Charles an ultimatum. His apartment or you.

Part one | Part two | Part three | Part four | Part five

Hope you’ll enjoy this part. Let me know in the comments section! And to support me by tipping me!

Little information, I will, for now, only post on Mondays, Wednesdays and Fridays.

Thank you, and Enjoy! :)

Lots of love, xxx Spicy Clover

WARNING: All the information in this text is pure fiction, and the names and addresses are strictly fictive. I’m not a lawyer also, so I’m sorry if the procedure isn’t exact or conventional. Please bear with me.

It was only on the morning of Christmas Eve, the 24th, that you received a notification from your lawyer.

You opened your email, and what you saw left you speechless.

Y/n Y/L/N

24 Av. de la Costa

Monte-Carlo, Monaco, 98000

December 24th 2022

To the honourable avocat

Mr.Charles Leclerc applies for full custody of the child he made with Y/n Y/L/N. At the child's birth, he applied for full custody due to the unstable actions of the named companion. He asks for a no permission for the mother to have contact with the child once it is born. This motion is under inspection by Judge Carpinelli. He asks the child's mother to report to the court of Monaco for a session on 24 January. Meanwhile, a request to contact the doctor in charge of the pregnancy and in progress. Mr. Charles Leclerc also requests access to the accused's address to obtain the necessary documents for this procedure. Given the information above, my client is asking the court to order the child to live with him full-time without authorized contact with the mother. He also requests compensation for the emotional damage your client put him through.

Sincerely Lawyer Felipe Rossi.

“What the fuck?” You gasp, trying to understand what's in front of you.

You read the email several times before you understand what it means. He wants to take away your parental rights. “How can he do that?” The little device that control your level of stress starts going on.

“Honey, what’s going on?” Question your mother worried about your sudden change of mood and the biping starting.

You don’t have the strength to speak and give her your laptop. She takes several minutes to process what she’s reading. “How could he do that?”

“He’s asking for full custody.” She mumbles under her breath.

“He can’t do that.” Your voice breaks, trying to make sense of this whole situation.

You didn’t think it would go that far. You suddenly feel betrayed and out of control. All your choices come back to you and all the conversations you’ve had with him, too.

“Well, apparently, he can.” Your mother adds given her husband the computer for him to read. “Since you refuse to let him be the father.”

“I do not deny that he is the father; I just don’t want to be around him right now.”

“Will you let him be around when the baby is born?” Ask your mother.

“I... I don’t know. He hurts me, mom.” You burst into tears.

“I know. But he’s powerful, and he has a lot of contacts.”

“Oh, my god...” This situation is going out of control, and your breathing quickens. This whole thing is starting to become a nightmare, and you didn’t think he was capable of that much cruelty.

A panic attack invades you, and you start to hyperventilate, unable to calm down. You begin to get dizzy, and your parents try to help you, at least they can, but impossible. How can he do that to you? After all, he did. He’s the one who slept with that girl. He’s the one who didn’t listen to you. He’s the one who didn’t want your comfort. He’s... he’s... horrible.

You start walking like a lion in a cage, your breathing gets overwhelmed, and you faint. The bipping going crazy.

Charles can’t believe what he just did. All his dark thoughts and those around him encourage him to take up this voice. He knows it’s wrong, and he’s the wrong one. Why is he doing this? He doesn’t even know himself. Everyone’s rocking in his head, and he can’t back down.

The letter was sent, and his lawyer was notified. A sense of shame takes hold, and he can’t even look at himself in the mirror in his lawyer’s waiting room.

You wake up an hour later and calm down. Your thoughts gather, and you manage to sort without being overwhelmed. You gradually regain control of yourself. You feel your little girl agitating in your belly and caressing it distractedly. Feeling her close to you reassures you.

You find yourself alone in your room looking out the window at the seagulls flying. The sound of the ocean soothes you and you feel your tension return. The little bip machine the doctor gave you on your last visit to control your stress is slowing down again. The bip stops and you go downstair.

You decided to call him on your mother's cellphone.

“Hello?” You hear his voice for the first time in weeks, and tear fills your eyes. “Hello? Who’s this?”

“Charlie...?”

“Y/n? It’s you?”

“Charlie, why do you do this to us?”

“Mon Dieu, babe, where are you? Are you okay?”

“Why do you keep doing this to us?” You cry on the phone, unable to breathe correctly and you device going on again.

“Amour, where are you? Are you alone? What’s that bip? Are you in danger?” He asks panicking a little.

“You hurt me, and I have to pay the consequence. You can’t do that to me.”

“Y/n, you took my child with you.”

“She’s still in me, you idiot. Of course, she has to go where I go.” You snap, getting frustrated by him.

“Hey, you’re the one who disappeared, not me. I did not leave in the middle of the night without any warning or information.” He yells through the phone, frustrated to not have you with him.

“You’re the one who jeopardizes our relationship, sleeping with other girls, humiliating me in front of everybody and screaming at me in the middle of the fucking street. And I’m the one who’s making mistakes here? You’re insane.” You scream back, your mother forcing you to seat down.

“Fuck, you don’t realize how worried I am when I discover you were gone, and none of your friends didn’t know where you were either. You just disappear, and then you text my assistant a week before Christmas and not even me.”

“Do you think it’s easy for me to deal with all of this alone?”

“Hey! You’re the one who left.”

“Because I’m mad at you. Not because I stop loving you.” You says calming down again.

“You...”

“I love you. I love everything about you, Charles. But you keep hurting me and making mistakes that force me to band my moral to go around it. What happened with that girl? Was she worth jeopardizing our relationship? I’m so mad and in pain. You put me there, and now you don’t want me to be around my child, the one I’m carrying. The one you didn’t want at the beginning of all this. You can’t do this to me. Not after everything you did.”

“I...”

“I don’t want to talk anymore. I'll see you on the 24th.” You hang up the phone tossing it across the room. You apologize to your mother realizing you just destroy her phone, but she just shush you out of the room to your bedroom to get some rest. Real rest.

You cried for hours this afternoon, trying to figure everything out. After the tears came depression, and then, and only after that, came the anger. You were mad. No, furious. You know all this didn’t come from him but from his mom. You know she will do anything to protect her son and take responsibility for his actions.

You spend your entire Christmas Day in bed, unable to move or speak. You didn’t want to eat but forced yourself for your baby girl. Every time you rub your belly, you miss the touch of Charles on it. You miss him more than anything, but you wanted to prove to him and yourself that you didn’t need him.

You made an effort to eat with your family the night of Christmas. Everyone tried to cheer you up, but something was broken in you. You really lost him, and you really lost Charles. All this drama put so much pressure on you that the same night, you start bleeding.

You decided not to take any chance and went to the hospital. Right away, they took charge of you. You waited hours for the doctors to give you news, but nothing. You weren’t surprised because you were the 25th and everybody was celebrating with their family, but all this wait made you worried even more.

Charles was with his family having dinner when his phone rang.

“Hello?”

“Charles, Charles Leclerc?” Ask your mother.

“Yes?”

“Y/M/N, Y/n mother. Y/n is in the hospital.” She says straight to the point.

“What?”

“She’s in the hospital. She was losing blood, and we went directly to check it out. I’m not supposed to be calling you right now, and she didn’t want to worry you. But you’re the father and she loves, misses you very much.” She explains herself off tone.

“Where are you?”

“I’m not sure, she wants to see you, Charles.”

“I’m her boyfriend and the father. I'm coming. Tell me which hospital!” He orders directly, not missing this opportunity.

“Centre hospitalier de la Côte Basque.” She hangs up the phone after whispering the information.

“She’s in France. All this time, she was this close,” he thinks, hanging up the phone. He rushes inside and excuses himself to everyone before taking his coat and leaving promptly.

Charles didn’t waste any minute, and he drove for hours. He arrives at at 4 am the morning at the destination, and he barely parks his car and rushes inside. Almost screaming at the receptionist to find out where you are.

You are in your room, sleeping with your mother stocking your head gently. After crying, you finally fell asleep. Breathing finally normally, you weren’t dreaming, and it was better this way.

Charles sprint through the corridor before finding your room. He takes the time to catch his breath before passing a hand in his hair. He opened the door carefully. Your father gets up from his chair and grabs him by the collar the minute he walks in.

“You have some nerve coming here after what you did to her, you piece of shit.”

“I... I’m sorry.”

“Y/F/N, let him go.” Speaking up, your mother, getting up and taking her husband's arm.

Your father took several minutes before releasing his grip and walking away.

“She’s sleeping right now. They sedated her.”

“Is she okay? And the baby?”

“Like you care about her,” pester your father, sitting back in his chair.

“I do...”

“Oh really, when?”

“I know. I didn’t want this to happen, so I messed up. But I love her. I really do.”

You start to wake up. Wriggles in the hospital bed. You sight, trying to vanish the vapour of the drug.

You slowly opened your eyelids, trying to get used to daylight. Still unaware of the atmosphere in the room, you moan, trying to change position. Your catheter hurts, and you blow a good blow before opening your eyes.

You search for your mother, but your eyes fall on Charles, who approaches you.

“Charles?”

“Oui, mon amour.” He says, taking place next to you.

To be continued...

Tag list:

@mloyer @heavengirls111 @janeholt3 @ggaslyp1 @tall-tanned-tattoo @queenanababy @91vhs @dreamerrosie @pleasedontfollowimlost @kuskumu @lissimountf1 @sbgal

#charles leclerc #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fluff #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 #fluff

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cinnamonrusts · 3 years

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-- "sorry, ethan" [ WARNING: LIGHT SPOILERS FOR BEGINNING SCENE OF RE8: VILLAGE - READ AT YOUR OWN RISK ] [warnings: mentions of violence]

you check in on the winters family in europe and when the evening is interrupted - you come face to face with a face that you’ve not seen in a long time. [chris redfield x reader]

✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.*

The BSAA gifted you the task of ensuring that the Winters family was adjusting well to their new lives in seclusion. The alliance uprooted their everything they knew and placed them in a cold area in Europe where snow covered each corner of the ground. Ethan and Mia were initially troubled by this idea but you promised them that it was the best thing for them to do. It wasn’t your idea, though. Chris Redfield, your ex-boyfriend, was the one who orchestrated them to move -- for their own safety.

But you didn’t hear from Chris since then. He disappeared from your life and it had been a long, long time since you’d seen each other. Where was he? What was he doing? You weren’t sure if you’d ever see his handsome face again...

✧.*

It was your first ever visit to their home in Europe and you could smell the aroma of Mia’s new learned cuisine that were native to the local area. “Will you be the taste tester for Mia, while I put little Rose to bed?” Ethan asked as he held his sleeping infant close to his chest. Her chubby face was soft and content as she drifted off into another realm of slumber. “As long as she doesn’t poison me for helping to bring you guys here!” you joked as you followed the brunette woman into their large kitchen.

“Now, [Y/N]. How many times do I have to tell you?! We’re adjusting here quite well,” she walked directly to the stove and hovered over a boiling pot, then took a deep breath in. “Well, I’m glad to hear that...” you sighed in relief - you couldn’t imagine how it felt to move across the ocean. Mia smiled as she took the ladle in her palm and stirred the orange liquid, which caused the steam to roll into the air and then to your face. You too took a deep inhale and your stomach growled loudly as a result. Mia chuckled, “Sounds like someone is hungry.” Your hand went to your belly and you groaned, “That’s an understatement. I have the worst jet lag on Earth right now and that smells amazing.”

Ethan soon returned and informed the two of you that Rose was “sleeping like a baby”. Mia brought over the boiling pot to the kitchen island and when Ethan tried taking a bite before she was ready, the back of his hand got a whap from her metal spoon. “It’s Ciobra de Legume. It’s a local recipe. But it’s not ready yet,” Mia let the pot to cool before the three of you would eat and took your hand in hers to lead you to the dining room that was attached to the kitchen, “Please, sit.” she instructed as Ethan brought three wine glasses to the table. “If Ethan’s going to sulk all night. Maybe we should enjoy the wine instead.” You obeyed her request and took a seat to her left.

✧.*

Not long after an argument brewed between the two of them. Ethan was insistent that they needed to talk about what happened in Louisiana, but Mia firm on her opinion that they just needed to forget about it and move on. You sat in silence across from Ethan as you watched Mia grow frustrated with his behavior. She raised her hands, “I don’t understand why you are so --,” just before she could finish her sentence, a bloody hole formed in her shoulder. It was no “hole” but a bullet wound. As it dawned on you what it was, you immediately pushed your chair back with all your might and hit the deck just as Ethan yelled to get down. However, Mia did not in time and soon was full of holes from the many weapons that fired into the home from outside. The flashes from the muzzles light up the dark house house like a macabre strobe light show and the sounds of Ethan’s yelling was muffled out by the roar of the automatic firearms.

The initial panic that enveloped your mind soon faded and when you reached for your own weapon -- it was apparent that your handgun was nowhere nearby but in the room in the upper floor, so, Ethan and yourself were defenseless against whoever it was that attacked the Winters home. You looked into Ethan’s panicked eyes as they darted from you to his most likely deceased wife on the floor. As quickly as it started, the flying bullets ceased and you could hear the sound of heavy boots on the wooden flooring, then followed by silence.

The table that was once your shelter was pushed to the side and you were exposed to a man in black. Despite all the years of your BSAA training, you were frozen in your tracks, your eyes did not move from the black shoes of the person who stood before you. “Chris!? What the hell!” Ethan yelled. When you heard the name, your blood ran cold and you went from afraid to confused. Your eyes moved from the floor upward and met the cold stare of the man that you once found yourself to love. “Sorry, Ethan.” was all he said, he didn’t even acknowledge you, but instead he pulled out a pistol and pointed it at Mia’s unmoving body. “No!” you screamed as you leaped toward him to smack the weapon from him to spare her. The two of you struggled over dominance of the weapon for a brief amount of time, but Chris pushed you out of the way with barely any effort. It didn’t hurt when you hit the ground because he did not use his full strength but you were still stunned. You tried to get to your feet fast enough to stop him again but just when you were able to be in arms length, Chris released several rounds quickly into Mia’s limp body.

Your knees felt weak and buckled from beneath you. Mia, Ethan, and now Rose were the three people in the world that you were supposed to keep safe but now -- now Mia was dead and anything you tried to do was useless. Even worse, she was taken down by the one person you believed would do the right thing -- someone you trusted with your life, but now he took the life of someone you cared for.

Redfield caught you before you could go down to the floor. His arm was wrapped around your waist and his palm was flat against your pelvis. He looked into your eyes and they held you in place. They were the same eyes that you remembered and adored, but -- you didn’t think you could forgive him for his actions. A silence held in the air between the two of you but your attention was stolen from Chris when Ethan let out several curses and yells in the direction of your former acquaintance.

✧.*

You proceeded then to shove Chris away from you and once you did so, you took several steps back to only bump into one of the cronies dressed in black that helped murder Mia. The man placed a firm hand on your shoulder which you shrugged off, and Chris attempted to do the same but you stopped him with a pointed finger. “Don’t.” you sneered, “Not now.” Chris complied and walked toward the entrance to the ruined home. You allowed Chris’s teammates to take you under their custody...

Chris’s guards pushed you and Ethan in the same direction but sectioned you off away from the poor man. “What’re you doing, Chris?!” you yelled as you tried to grab for the blonde but Chris pushed you back to the wall beside the staircase. The sound of Rose’s cries grew louder as a masked guard brought her down the stairs, then placed the infant in Chris’s arms. “Doing what I need to”, he paused before he gave a nod, “take Ethan away.” Winters was not about to let Chris and his goons take Rose away from him, especially after just murdering his wife. So, Redfield instructed one of his men to knock him out with the butt of his firearm once he showed a struggle. You watched Ethan hit the floor with a thud and be dragged away. How could Chris do this? Treat the people he helped take care of so cruelly?

“Come on,” Chris said as he turned to leave. “What makes you think I’m going with you?” a scoff left your lips. He grew silent before he cornered you in the doorway, baby still crying in his arms. “You’re welcome to stay here then,” Chris turned away again but you pulled him back with force, your eyes fixated on Rose. “Where have you been? You left me without a word and now-now, this!?.” he didn’t answer but walked toward the caravan that he arrived in, you followed after him quickly with anger, your gaze returning to the distraught infant and asked the same question several times.

Chris raised his voice at you to silence, “I will explain it all once we arrive at our checkpoint.” His tone dropped, maybe he felt bad for his reaction to your questions -- so, he proceeded to place his gloved hand on your bicep and gave it a squeeze.

Unfortunately for everyone, no questions were able to be answered because the caravan was never able to reach said checkpoint according to plan.

#resident evil #resident evil x reader #chris redfield x reader #reader x chris redfield #chris redfield/reader #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #chris redfield

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goggles-mcgee · 3 years

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Looking back at Chloe in your wish me away AU, her family name being dragged including her wealth is good enough of a consequence than her remembering Marinette in one way or another. Yeah there are some who can have issues with her forgetting Marinette, but when her father gets severe consequences for his choice of a media blackout, Chloe's past akuma actions will be brought up and used as a main reaskn why her father created a media blackout and while she doesn't remember Marinette, she surely remembers her actions, especially Queen Bee.

Well, that, and I don't think people were paying attention to the heroes in the beginning of the story because I did put that Chloe was still the Bee hero just with a different name, Bee-Witch.

Another thing is, I'm not following Canon, Miracule Queen, Love Eater, non of that happened in this story. Chloe does get a redemption arc which we will see in memories that Marietta has suddenly. This redemption arc starts after Marinette insults Chloe in front of her mother to get them to bond and this is when Chloe realizes that her mother only cares about her if she's being horrible but Ladybug encourages and wants her to be nice. Ladybug believes she can be nice and caring. And she connects that, despite all she has done to Marinette, in some way, Marinette believes she can change too.

It's a wake up call for sure. Of course change like that doesn't happen overnight and Chloe has slip ups but she recognizes that she needs help, more help than a people-pleaser father and a well known fashion and just overall everything critic that is rarely pleased. Chloe asks her parents to get her a therapist. Her father of course will get her anything she wants while her mother says she doesn't need one and they won't get one because the Bourgeois' aren't to be seen as "weak." This causes a fight, one of the first real fights her parents have ever had.

This fight brings out years of problems the two have held back and in the end? They want to divorce and they don't hesitate hiring lawyers for themselves. They forget Chloe in this fight, they forget she asked for help, but Jean didn't and he's trying to help Chloe anyway he can.

When it's time for the meeting of the lawyers, so they can work out everything without having to go to court, because both parties would really prefer this not to get out, the lawyers ask where the family lawyers are so they can also work out who gets custody of Chloe. It's then both remember the beginning fight, and it's kind of then that both decide the other should get full custody of Chloe. Audrey says Andre because he's already been taking care of her for so long and plus she runs a fashion empire she's way to busy for a child. Andre argues that Audrey should get custody because her and Chloe are just so alike and they have been bonding more since her mother relocated to Paris. Besides since Audrey planned on moving back to New York it would be safer to get their daughter out of Paris and live with Audrey. In reality Andre just saw this as a way to get rid of mini Audrey.

In the end? Jean fought for custody of Chloe, neither parent fought and that...that broke Chloe, but both Jean and Chloe were forced to sign an agreement that they would not reveal the fact that Chloe was now adopted by Jean and that Andre and Audrey got divorced, to the public in any media. At least until Hawkmoth was defeated.

So Chloe was now Chloe Annette Dubois, daughter of Jean-Auguste Dubois and his husband Peter Dubois.

They moved Chloe put of the hotel as quickly and discreetly as possible and they got Chloe the help she needed. Because of this she had a very lengthy apology and conversation with Marinette which ended up with both girls crying but feeling lighter than they had in a long time. They didn't become friends right away mind you, but they were civil towards one another and working on trying to be friends or at the very least acquaintances. But because of this change in Chloe, Ladybug decides to give her another chance and thus Bee-Witch was born!

It's after the Broadcast that Paris starts it's uproar and surprise surprise it turns its head towards Mayor Bourgeois. No the world. It forces Chloe and her new parents to come out with everything that had happened and that she is no longer a Bourgeois but a Dubois. This shocks the whole of Paris again and more hate is geared towards Mayor Bourgeois. Especially when an anonymous source comes out with the fact that he was being bribed by Hawkmoth himself to keep the Media Blackout in action, and to not have his police forces actively searching for the emotional terrorist.

It's....it's not pretty. Not in the least.

So the reason Chloe doesn't remember Marinette is because Marinette forgave her for her past actions, Tikki forgave her, the two of them saw a young girl struggling but trying her best to change even when everything was falling to pieces around her. Chloe told Ladybug everything that had happened between her mom and dad. Tikki felt all that, was punishment enough for her past actions. The girl was already striving to be a better person. She did not deserve to be plagued by memories or branded an enemy of the Miraculous. Especially because Tikki knew that once everything was brought to light, Chloe would have to continue to fight and struggle against people.

#wish me away ask #goggles ask #goggles answer #goggles answers #mldccrossover #maribat #chloe redemption

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pascalpanic · 3 years

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Conferences (Maxwell Lord/Lorenzano x f!teacher!Reader)

Summary: Alistair Lorenzano is a third grader in your class, whom you absolutely adore. Upon meeting his father, Maxwell, you suddenly have much more interest in the Lorenzano family. Set after WW84.

W/C: 2.9k

Warnings: language, flirting, talk of divorce and trauma, lots of talk of children and such, especially Alistair. brief nondescript mentions of Maxwell’s shitty childhood. uh. Spoilers for The Great Gatsby lmao

A/N: well! I haven’t written for max in a long time but the ship request (which are CLOSED) i received here really made me inspired! hope u guys like it :)

Alistair Lorenzano was a joy to have in class. You mean it too, not like when you don’t have a comment for a child’s report card and you just stick that phrase on the bottom. No, Alistair is a genuinely good kid.

The little dark haired boy walked in proudly on the first day, even as none of the other children came over to say hello or pal around with him. He seemed lonely, but he marched up to your desk and placed a beautiful apple on the desk, giving you a gap-toothed grin and introducing himself with a handshake. Alistair didn’t talk to his other classmates much that day, or any other day really. He was usually preoccupied with a book of some sort.

He sits alone at lunch and recess, usually burying his nose in a book as the other children play. He’s progressed quite quickly, reading big wordy books the other fourth graders surely couldn’t handle. When a child has no one to play with, Alistair will sit with them and talk. He’ll always help a struggling classmate with their long division or come up with a good synonym for them. He rarely raises his hand, but he’s almost always correct.

He’ll come in early most mornings. He doesn’t talk much about his family, but he says his dad works early in the morning and that he has to drop him off earlier. That’s fine with you; the kid is a good conversationalist and will read quietly while you arrange lesson plans or grade spelling tests.

You wonder what his family is like. All you know about his father is that he works early in the morning. His mother has dropped him off late several times, but that always led to more early mornings; presumably his father’s doing.

As a teacher, you tend to shy away from family-based assignments. You’re fully aware that some of your students won’t want to share what their parents do for a living, or talk about them at all. That’s why you don’t know much about the Lorenzano family- you don’t ask and Alistair doesn’t share.

Conferences are approaching soon as you approach the midpoint of the first semester. Most parents don’t come if their children are doing well; typically, only the parents of struggling children make appearances. That’s why you’re surprised to read the note Alistair hands you when he walks in, thirty minutes before class begins, as always.

You frown reading the little note of paper, pushing your glasses up your nose. “You’re sure that your father needs a conference?” You ask the little boy. He looks confused. “I’d love to meet him,” you say hurriedly, sipping your morning coffee. “It’s just that… you’re a very smart kid, Alistair. Usually it’s the parents of kids who don’t do so well that sign up for conferences.”

Alistair shrugs, taking off his puffy fall jacket and hanging it on his hook near your desk. “I don’t know. Dad just said he wanted that time,” he says, pointing at your paper.

Dramatically uncapping a colored flare pen, you make a show out of writing down the name for your 7:30 time slot: Mr Lorenzano. “Well, I will see your dad then,” you tell the kid with a smile. He seems pleased that you’re excited. “What’s his name?”

“Maxwell,” Alistair informs you, sitting at his desk and cracking open his book.

You repeat the name, writing it down in the purple pen you chose. “Your family has very elegant names,” you tease Alistair.

Alistair shrugs. “Dad likes to sound fancy.”

Maxwell has never met you, but he feels that he knows you like an old friend. Alistair absolutely adores you, tells his father about you at any chance he gets.

You sound wonderful. He supposes that Alistair would adore any female figure in his life right now. Vanessa, the former Mrs. Lord, has all but rejected her son. When Alistair would spend time at her place, she’d practically ignore her own kid, prioritizing whatever she wanted to do. Several days, Alistair was late to or completely missed school thanks to Vanessa’s ignorance.

That’s why Maxwell has taken nearly full custody now. Vanessa didn’t argue it. She was glad to have Alistair out of her hair. Besides, she resented Maxwell for endless reasons, usually unfounded. She wanted to see him struggle.

But Maxwell thrived. Alistair and his father are as close as can be. Maxwell now works a menial job, after the whole Dreamstone fiasco, but he’s managing to make ends meet. When they have enough money left over, he’ll take Alistair to the movies or buy him a new lego kit.

Maxwell hasn’t found love since Vanessa, but he thinks you might be the one for him. One could call him a hopeless romantic; his heart builds and breaks as easily as a wave on the shore. You sound so nurturing and lovely, so wonderful to the one Maxwell loves most. That’s partially why he scheduled the conference with you.

The other part was that Alistair is a budding genius in Maxwell’s eyes. He flies through thick books day in and day out, and Max wants to accommodate the skills in his son. He constantly tells him how proud of him he is, but he wants to make sure he can keep helping him learn.

On the day of the conference, Maxwell is nervous. Why is he nervous? He combs his closet several times to find one of the nice suits from his glory days, but decides it to be ridiculous. He’s not sure how much Alistair tells you about his family, but he’s sure you know he is no longer the television personality Max Lord. Instead, he settles for a dress shirt and pants, tossing on a light jacket over it. The fall air is turning crisp, especially in the evenings.

Doña Gloria from next door knocks on the door at promptly 7:00, and Alistair pops up to answer it. He loves the old woman, and wraps her in a big hug. Gloria walks inside the apartment, grinning at the sight of Maxwell’s outfit. “Ah, making a good impression on the boy’s teacher,” she nods in approval.

“Hoping to,” he nods and adjusts the suede jacket over his lapels, fidgeting with the zipper. “Alistair, why don’t you go find that game you wanted to play with Doña Gloria?”

The child runs off obediently and the woman straightens his collar for him. “Little Maxie has a crush,” she sings.

“Gloria,” he frowns as he messes with the cuffs. “I’ve never even met the woman.”

She gives a knowing smile. “But you know her. You know her through Alistair, all his stories. I’m sure she will love you, mijo.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter,” he sighs and pats his pockets, checking for his wallet. “She’s Alistair’s teacher. I can’t just-“

“You can do whatever the hell you want, Mr. Lorenzano,” the woman chuckles and reassures him. “Go get her.”

He shakes his head. “It’s a conference, not a date,” he says as he walks towards the door.

“It can be both!” Is the last thing he hears before he shuts the door, making him laugh.

Conferences, as always, are a pain in the ass. You sit and make small talk with parents, discussing their child’s skills with their times table versus their writing proficiency, their standardized test scores and how they stack up.

As the night passes, you grow more frazzled. Your hair, neatly tucked back, falls out in strands, and your glasses seem to slide down your nose more and more often. Some parents verbally abuse you for their children’s poor scores on their science test. Others try to get to know you a little too personally. All part of a day’s work.

A hopeful smile dares to peek out as you read your schedule and arrange your sampling of Alistair’s works. You’re eager to meet his father, to meet the man Alistair so rarely talks about but clearly adores.

There’s a knock on your classroom door at 7:30 on the dot. Shoving your glasses up your nose one time, you hurry to the door and allow the man in. “Hi, nice to meet you, Mr. Lorenzano,” you tell him and shake his hand, leading him to your desk.

Something about him seems familiar. He’s very attractive, that’s something. He doesn’t have his son’s dark, nearly black hair, but rather a light brown with bits of blonde interjected throughout. He has his son’s deep brown eyes, and his very presence makes you smile. He looks put together, dressed similarly to other fathers you’ve seen tonight.

You tuck your skirt under you as you sit in your chair. The man’s voice is smooth and beautiful as he speaks. “It’s nice to meet you as well. Alistair talks endlessly about you at home.”

Smiling, you shuffle some of his papers. The man is distractingly handsome, you find as you scramble to grab Alistair’s math test. “Well, he’s a very special kid. I adore having him in my class, truly. Your son is going places, Mr. Lorenzano.”

“Please, Max,” he shakes his head, producing something from a pocket. “Oh, and… for you.”

The sight makes you nearly laugh, but instead you break into a grin. The man’s large hand holds a shiny red apple, perfectly shaped. “Thank you,” you laugh and set it on your desk. “You know, I have no idea where that silly custom comes from.”

“I should ask Alistair,” Maxwell chuckles, his face heating as he takes in the beauty of your smile. “He knows so much. It wouldn’t be a stretch for him to know that.”

Nodding, you hand over an assortment of Alistair’s schoolwork and artwork. “He really does. I appreciate having a fellow avid reader in my class. He’s so bright, it’s… wild, really. Do you or… Mrs. Lorenzano,” you say, treading lightly, “do anything supplementary that advances his learning?”

Max looks down at the papers. “Well, she isn’t Mrs. Lor- Lorenzano anymore,” he shakes his head, his eyes not meeting yours for a moment. He stumbles, nearly using his former business name of Lord. “But no. I have nearly full custody of Alistair, and he flies through books. It’s absurd,” the man laughs, his pride in his eyes as he looks at you. “I mean, neither of us were ever as smart as this. I don’t know where he got it from.”

You frown at that. “You seem very smart, Max. May I ask what you do for a living?”

His brow furrows. “Alistair hasn’t told you?”

You shake your head, adjusting your glasses. God, Maxwell wants to do that for you, push them up your nose or better yet, take them off and kiss you deeply. “I don’t push kids to talk about their home lives. Some don’t want to share,” you shrug.

“I wish I would’ve had a teacher like you in my day,” he chuckles sadly. “I... well, I work currently for a corporate office in Arlington. It’s nothing very exciting, or anything that requires skill.”

You shrug, smiling a little. “It must be an important job or they wouldn’t pay you to do it.”

His chuckle is a little more upbeat. “I suppose. I just… my family was very poor when I was a child. I don’t want Alistair to feel ashamed that I don’t make as much money as his other classmates. Tell me, he doesn’t seem very social. Is he…?”

You want to phrase it properly, so you stutter for a moment. “Well, to put it plainly, no. Alistair does not talk much with his classmates. He’s a very quiet boy, as I’m sure you know. It’s not that they ostracize him, but rather that he chooses to be alone. He’s always reading rather than playing soccer or whatever,” you shrug. “It’s most certainly not exclusion on the basis of… having less money.”

Maxwell’s shoulders relax a little. “Well, I’m glad. Honestly, I don’t mind that he’s quiet. I’m glad he’s learning.”

“I’d usually disagree, but I have to say the same,” you chuckle. “He’s a really good kid, Max. You should be proud to have him as a son. Don’t tell anyone, but he’s my favorite student.”

He’s absolutely beaming with pride. “That’s all I could ask for. Thank you.”

“Of course! How could I not love that kid?” you chuckle as you admire a drawing Alistair made of a scene from his favorite book. “Was that all you wanted to talk about?” You ask, unsure if he had more concerns.

Maxwell’s almost startled by the question. “Oh! Yes, I got sidetracked,” he chuckles, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He’s painfully beautiful, and his laugh makes you laugh in return. It’s safe to say you really like the Lorenzano family. “He just goes through book after book, it’s endless. Do you have any recommendations for continued reading? I want him to keep going like this, truly.”

Tapping a pen against your gradebook, you think on it for a moment. “I guess the best way would be positive reinforcement, but not reward. If you, say, incentivized it, he might see it as a chore to earn the money or toy or whatever.”

Maxwell nods as he listens, a small smile on his face as he listens to your voice and intellect. Yes, his theory earlier was correct. He does have a crush on you. “Naturally.”

“So, my recommended course of action would really just be praise and support. Tell him you’re proud of him. Offer to take him to the library to pick out some more. Those little things mean more to a kid than we can know.”

Max does know, actually. He knows because he was deprived of them as a child, because he tries to use them as often as he can so Alistair never feels the way he felt. “I can most definitely do that.”

“Great,” you nod, fidgeting with the stem of the apple in front of you. “If he ever wants to do more math or puzzles or such, the library has lots of great resources for that as well. I also have lots of worksheets I could send home with him.”

“If I can tear him away from that book,” Maxwell chuckles. “Do you have any favorites? You mentioned you read a lot.”

“Oh, god,” you laugh, and Maxwell is enchanted by the sound. “There are too many options! My favorite book of all time would probably have to be the Great Gatsby. I love the classics.”

Maxwell’s smile turns bittersweet. Jay Gatsby’s life reminds him far too much of his own for comfort now. Before, he’d call himself a Gatsby in reference to lavish parties and living large. Now, he feels like Gatsby dead in the water. “Wonderful book,” he nods. “F. Scott Fitzgerald is a literary mastermind.”

“Do you read too?” You ask, intrigued. His personality shows more and more and you’re desperate for even more of it.

He shakes his head. “Not as much as Alistair, I’m afraid, but when I have the time.”

You grin. “My plans for tonight are to go home and read with some takeout. No one to disturb me or anything. I’m very much a homebody, so it’s usually just me and my gradebook and my houseplants. Takeout is the most excitement I get. I’m looking forward to working through this book though; I’m currently reading Wilde.”

“Ah, what book?”

“Picture of Dorian Gray,” you smile and look down at your tote bag with the book tucked into the side. “If I have any brainpower left. Most of these conferences are energy-suckers.”

“How many do you have left?” He asks, curious.

“You’re the last of the night, actually,” you chuckle and cross your arms on the desk, looking over at him and silently hoping he reads your interest.

“The night you have planned sounds lovely, I must say,” Maxwell chuckles. “I do love takeout, but I know of a wonderful place near here. I… we could go get dinner, if you’d like.”

Tilting your head to the side, you scrunch your nose to push your glasses back up. “That sounds wonderful, Max. It’s nice to converse with someone who isn’t 9 years old for a while. And someone so interesting,” you openly flirt now that you can tell he’s picking up on your messages.

“Me? Hardly,” he shakes his head and laughs. “I’m sure you have much more fascinating stories than me.”

“I am a third grade teacher, Max,” you laugh. “If you want stories that involve boogers, the ever-present cooties, and long division, I’m your gal, but it hardly extends past that.”

“I guess we’ll just have to find out. Do you like Italian food?”

“I love it,” you grin. “Does that mean wine?”

“Always,” Maxwell says in a mockingly offended voice, as if you’d even dare to ask such a thing, with a look of disgust.

“Thank fucking god,” you laugh before clapping a hand over your mouth. “Oh shit. Oh-“ you wince as you try to cover your curse with another curse. “Sorry. When school hours are out, I can’t hold back any longer.”

“No need to,” he assures you. “A woman like you could do whatever she wants and I’d be happy to just be in her presence.”

“Mr. Lorenzano,” you tease. “This is a parent-teacher conference!”

“Then let’s head to dinner and continue this in a nonprofessional capacity, shall we?” He asks, standing and pushing back his rolling chair.

“That sounds great,” you smile. Alistair’s father sure is something. Yes, you certainly like the Lorenzano family.

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bbrandy2002 · 3 years

Text

Fool’s Rush In

Chapter 18

Pairing: Liam x Riley

Book: TRR AU

Warnings: Language, crude talk, and the usual bad writing.

I had planned from the beginning to end this series after the next chapter and an epilogue, but call me crazy, I love it too much. So while this part of the story will end, I still plan to update with one-shots or stories from time to time. If you’re just done with it, let me know.

Also, this chapter felt a little off to me, so I apologize if it's terrible, but I think I ended on a good note.

Thanks @burnsoslow for prereading.and usage of your girl, who finally got to make her debut.

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

"Damn it, Riley! Pick up!" Liam grumbled as he lowered the cell phone from his ear and tossed it in the seat beside him. The royal jet had been in the air for a little over four hours already, and he'd grown frustrated at getting her voice mail each time. Surely, she was home by now.

Even though it was the middle of the night in Las Vegas, it was worth interrupting her. He had tried unsuccessfully to contact Riley since he packed his bags earlier and hastily headed for the airstrip. By this point, there must have been a dozen or so messages left on her phone without so much as a hint she'd gotten them.

While time wasn't an issue -- he'd get to Las Vegas one way or the other -- it was the desperation to hear from his new wife and tell her he knew precisely why she left.

And that he loved her.

Tilting his head back against the headrest, he swiveled side-to-side in his luxury chair while tightly clutching his freshly poured scotch. The security footage he watched earlier that morning replayed in his mind again. There were no doubts about what it showed: Madeleine confronted Riley outside their quarters just minutes after leaving the ball. Without sound, however, no one could ascertain specifically what was said among the two women. It was clear though, Riley was not a willing participant in that conversation. When they saw the disk held up in the Countess' hands, and the look of sheer horror on his pussycat's face, that told Liam all he needed to know. This was a blackmail situation, plain and simple, that included assault; those flowers he found scattered on the ground when he returned to his quarters last night all made sense now. This act was deliberate and treasonous, and Liam would ensure his ex-fiancee paid handsomely for it.

After they viewed the footage several more times, the Royal Guard was immediately summoned to Krona to find Madeleine and take her into custody. Liam knew it was a long shot whether his guards could pull that sting off, but he was working with what he had at the moment.

Despite whatever happened next, there was one thing the King was confident of: He was prepared to give up his entire Kingdom to get his girl back. Returning to Cordonia without her was not an option.

Shaking his tumbler of partially melted ice cubes, Liam leaned forward and steadily poured another bottle of scotch into his glass. As soon as he sat back and raised the fresh beverage to his lips, he was startled by the ringing of his cell phone. In a rush to answer, he hastily set the drink aside and snatched his phone up from where he tossed it earlier.

"Hello! Love?" He answered, hopeful it was her.

"Hey, little brother. Love you too ... Say, do you know if the palace has a Spanish tickler or a breast ripper? Asking for a friend."

Liam furrowed his brows in confusion before rising from his seat, plopping a knee down on its cushioned bottom, and glancing to the back of the plane. "Leo? Why are you calling me? We're on the same damn plane. I'm looking right at you."

"Nevermind that. Listen, I figured out a way to take care of Madeleine once and for all. Behold ..." Leo held up a leather-bound book and waved it over his head while Liam squinted from the front of the plane to get a better look. "... The King Constantine Guide To Fucking Torture In The 21st Century; Father gave it to me after my investiture ceremony. The way I see it, there really is no other option here than to tie her to a tree in front of the palace, invite the public to watch for a modest fee, and do some cool shit with iron rods and spikes. I got dibs on the knee-splitter, though."

"Leo ..." Liam began to warn his brother how ridiculous that plan was before stopping himself and staring off into the distance for a moment in thought. "Wait ... is there anything about flaying in that book?"

"Hell yeah there is! And if you're interested in thumbscrews, my buddy, Pete, has a trunk full of them. He uses them for ass play, but I'm sure he wouldn't mind letting us borrow them to split Maddie's thumbs in half." Leo let out a maniacal laugh.

Liam chuckled, despite the peculiarity of the conversation. "I'm not going to lie and tell you I'm not interested -- to the contrary, actually. And while I appreciate your help in seeing that Madeleine is brought to justice, I think we better stick to more lawful means."

"Boo, you whore!" The line went dead with a click.

Liam held the phone away from his ear, watching Leo sink down into his chair in a huff. "Really?" He called back in agitation. Met with the silent treatment and a middle finger from his disgruntled brother, Liam rolled his eyes, then slumped back down into his seat. Maybe he'd try to call Riley again.

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

The phone on Riley's nightstand buzzed again. She knew it was another call from Liam, and while she felt remorseful for ignoring all of his calls and texts, she couldn't bring herself to look at or answer them quite yet. The sooner all ties between them were broken, she believed, the quicker he could forget all about her and the mess she made of everything.

But even her willpower was slipping. Riley slid her hand out from under the pillow and reached over to pick up her phone. Holding it to her chest, she contemplated for a second just reading his texts and returning his calls, but Madeleine had warned to end all contact with him. Obviously, she was curious about what he had to say, but it was too risky. I'm so sorry, Liam.

Hitting the power button on her cell, the light on the device faded to black before she tossed it in the nightstand drawer.

Early the next morning, Riley's eyes flickered open to the sound of a banging on her front door, followed by the incessant ringing of her doorbell. Feeling exhausted from a lack of sleep, mainly because of crying and unable to think about anything other than how she hurt Liam, Riley decided to ignore it. She just wanted to be left alone, and eventually, they'd give up and leave, right?

Except they didn't.

Annoyed, she let out a sigh and then eased herself up out of bed; the pain in her back was still a problem. Tossing a robe over her body, she slowly made her way down the stairs of her townhome -- each step excruciating -- until she finally made it to the door.

Twisting the lock, she opened the entry door, before letting out a sudden gasp at the tearful person standing on the other side.

"Oh my God, Riley! Y-You're alive! You're really alive!"

"Alyssa?" Riley's best friend from New York pulled her into a relieved hug, nearly sobbing at that point. "What're you doing here?"

"I thought something terrible happened to you, but now that I can see you're still among the living ..." she sniffled before pulling back and narrowing her blazing blue eyes at her friend. "Where have you been? I've been trying to get ahold of you ever since you texted me that you were boarding a plane in Cordonia, and that something serious happened involving Tyler. You promised me you'd call as soon as you landed--"

"I know. I'm so sorry. It was late ..."

" -- and you didn't. Then I worried, even more, when you didn't answer any of my calls back. I had to book the first red-eye flight here to make sure you were all right." Finished with her rant, a huffing Alyssa's jaw immediately clenched. "Now, what did that shithead ex of yours do? I'll kill him if he hurt you, Ri. I might be small, but I'm scrappy like an alleycat. You know I'll claw his eyes out."

Riley let out a light chuckle; Alyssa was always overprotective of her and had a clever way with words, but quickly, that chuckle faded into a teary frown. "Oh, Lyss," she whimpered as her face fell into her hands.

Alyssa quickly wrapped her arms around Riley and pulled her into a warm embrace. "Aww, Riley. Sweetie, it's going to be okay," she soothed.

Stepping inside, Alyssa kicked the door shut and led them both over to the sofa. Sensing Riley was in pain -- and not just emotional -- she helped lower her troubled best friend onto the couch. "I want you to start from the beginning and tell me everything that happened."

The best friends had remained in contact over the last several weeks. It was Alyssa's frantic morning phone call over a month ago that alerted Riley to the news coverage of her impromptu marriage to Liam, having saw it on the news.

And while Alyssa was aware of everything about Cordonia and Liam, and how Riley fit into all that from their prior conversations, she listened intently while it was revealed to her the details of the incident with Madeleine and the video her ex-husband gave to the Countess.

Grabbing a tissue from the end table, Alyssa handed it to Riley. "So this cow confronted you with that disgusting video and basically blackmailed you into leaving, or she would release it to the press?" Riley nodded somberly.."Ugh, I want this treasonous bitch thrown in the dungeon, subjected to live-streamed daily anal fistings with giant Hulk gloves ... And Tyler, I want to break every bone in his rotten body, one at a time. And I want to leave him there afterwards, dripping just enough water on his lips, so he doesn't die of dehydration, screaming in agony for the weeks it will take to die of starvation."

Riley's face scrunched up. "God, Alyssa."

Alyssa shrugged. "What? I don't care; it's what they deserve for hurting you. Did you at least tell Liam what happened?"

This time, Riley shook her head. "No. Madeleine warned me if I told him, she would release the video, and then the council would likely force him to step down. I won't allow him to lose everything for someone like me."

Irritated, Alyssa pressed a palm to her forehead. "Why are you like this?"

"Like, what?" Riley asked in exasperation.

"That whole, 'someone like me,' part. He wanted to stay married to you. He made you the queen of his country. You've said he couldn't keep his goddamn hands off you for two seconds. And more importantly, you told me you have never felt more loved in your life, than you do when you're with him. The fact that you still question your worthiness to him blows my mind."

Alyssa reached for Riley's shaky hand, able to tell by the tears sliding down her cheeks and the soft whimpers that she'd touched on something. "You're his pussycat, Riley. Liam already lost everything when you left him. Tell me you know that."

Riley wiped at her face., her voice stifled, "I just wanted to protect him."

"I know." Alyssa smiled softly. "But you needed to give him the chance to decide what he wanted. You made it for him because you know he'd choose you, regardless if he lost everything else; that's how much he loves you, Ri. You can't protect someone who loves you by hurting them. Besides, he's the King; he can simply execute the council if he wants to -- Liam’s not going anywhere."

"You just HAD to add that last part in, didn't you?" Riley laughed, feeling a sense of ease as her mood lightened. It felt good to talk to someone who could help her make sense of everything and realize she hadn’t exactly made the best call by leaving and not telling Liam what happened. "But what do I do about this video? What if Madeleine releases it to the public?"

"Yeah, a video of a married woman having sex with her husband -- Oh, the shame!" she retorted. "Look, you'll be famous on Pornhub for a few weeks, and it'll fizzle out. I know that doesn't make it all better, but you have a lot of people who love you ... we'll be there for you if that happens. Besides, it's Gonzo Dick; I doubt anyone will wanna watch anyway."

Riley snorted out at the nickname she gave her ex-husband. "Stop making me laugh."

Alyssa cracked a grin. "Nah. If I can make you laugh at that asshole's expense and his crooked dick, then it's worth it."

"Well,” she breathed, “ I suppose I should get dressed and call Liam. Tell him what happened, and hopefully, he'll … forgive .." her voice trailed off at tasting an increasing collection of bile in her throat and a familiar rumble in her stomach.

“What’s wrong?”

Riley frowned. "Damn it, why do I keep getting sick?"

After rushing to the bathroom with Alyssa's help, Riley came out moments later, flushed and perspiring. Alyssa, who waited outside the door to make sure she was all right, eyed her friend with grave concern. "Ri, are you sure you don't have a concussion? You said that Madeleine caused you to fall, and you complained you’ve been getting sick a lot. Is there any chance you hit your head too?"

Riley considered for a moment before shaking her head. "I don't think so. I mean, it all happened so fast I don't really remember, but my head doesn't hurt."

"OH NO! You have memory loss too, on top of the vomiting and a hurt back? Riley, you need to go to the hospital now. This is serious."

"Alyssa, I'm fine. I don't need to go to the hospital," Riley dismissed and hobbled past her friend toward the kitchen. "You always worry too much."

Alyssa followed behind her, brows bumped together in a scowl. "Because you're a stubborn ass who never listens, that's why. You need to get checked out," she insisted. Riley paid no attention as made her way to the fridge; that reaction only served to piss Alyssa off. "You can ignore me all you want, but you know as well as I do, I'll just keep annoying the hell out of you until you do it … I'll sing every Dave Matthews song ever written -- On repeat."

Riley shut the fridge door and turned at the threat, giving her a dismayed glare. "You wouldn't."

Alyssa tilted her chin. "You know damn well I would. I have... so much to say, so much to say, so much --"

"Please stop! I'm going."

---------

At Valley Hospital and Medical Center, Drake sat slumped down in the waiting room of the E.R; a thawed ice pack covered his crotch. His increasingly irritated self caught sight of a nurse escorting yet another patient back for examination. "You've got to be fucking kidding me."

Tired of waiting, he cast the ice pack aside and marched straddle-legged to the triage desk where a beefy nurse with a scowl sat filing her nails. "How much longer is this gonna take?" He demanded bitterly.

The nurse remained focused on her nails and answered in a careless fashion. "You'll get called back when it's your turn, Mr. Walker."

"My turn? MY TURN? I've been here for 15 fucking hours waiting for my turn. I've watched one person after the next walk right in, get treated, and leave. Whose ass do I actually have to lick to get treatment around here?"

Unimpressed with his theatrics, she folded her arms on the desk and looked up at Drake with a glower. "Look. You got kicked in the wang by a hooker. Shit happens. It's not the end of the world. Go home, have a beer, and a good laugh. You'll live." She resumed her filing.

Drake ran both hands through his rumpled hair, letting out a sardonic laugh. "I cannot fucking believe you just said that to me. I suffer trauma on my transplanted dick, and the greatest healthcare minds in the world tell me to have a beer and laugh about it?" his voice shrieked.

The nurse blew on her nails. "That's what I said."

That snarky remark sent him even further over the edge. A red-faced Drake pounded two white-knuckled fists on the desk and leaned down into her space. "Now you listen here, lady. I demand to be seen right now, or so help me, I'll tear this whole goddamn place apart brick-by-fucking-brick! Do you understand me?"

Having none of that, the nurse, who was several inches taller than a startled Drake expected, sprung for her chair and loomed over him menacingly. Drake flinched when she rammed the nail file at him and threatened, "Now, you listen.You can either sit your ass down, or I will sit you down. Do you understand me?"

He didn't understand. He would never understand.

A security guard who heard the commotion casually approached the agitated pair and placed a firm hold on Drake's elbow. "Do we have a problem here, Betty Lou?"

She shook her head, sizing Drake up. "No, just some whiny-ass Karen griping about his dick."

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

Several moments later, Alyssa and Riley exited an Uber and wandered into the waiting area, making their way up to the triage line -- or what they thought was a line. It was actually Drake still standing there, continuing to protest his case to anyone who would listen and demanding to speak to someone in charge.

While Riley dug through her purse to retrieve her health insurance card, Alyssa couldn't help but be taken in by the fiery debacle taking place in front of them. She inched a little closer, unable to help herself; it was good drama and sucked her right in.

Catching a glimpse of Drake’s sour face, she cocked her head introspectively; there was something oddly familiar about the man in the denim shirt going off. Alyssa tapped her chin. Where have I seen him before?

Before long, the realization set in, and her eyes snapped wide open. She nudged Riley with an elbow and leaned over, whispering, "Hey, isn't that the guy from the news who had the penis transplant? It looks just like him."

Knowing precisely who that was by the description, Riley popped her head up to look. She hadn't known Drake well, only that he was Liam's best friend, and after having spent time together on the plane ride to Cordonia with him, that her maid-of-honor had given him several venereal diseases. "Drake?" she called out.

While Alyssa zoned in on his groin, curious as to what was in there, Drake broke away from the dispute and turned his focus toward the familiar-sounding voice. She was a connection to home and a long-sought-after friendly face. "Riley? Liam's insta-bride, Riley?"

She let out a light chuckle and nodded. "Yeah, I suppose that's how you would know me ... What are you doing at the hospital? Is your body rejecting the ..." Her embarrassed gaze dropped lower with a gulp. " ... thing?"

"No!" he barked. "I just got attacked by that ... uh, someone."

"You got attacked?" Shocked, Riley placed a hand over her chest. "Why would someone attack you? Are you okay?"

Feeling incensed by the memory, Drake shook his head and muttered. "It's a long story ... What about you? What are you doing here? Thought you were in Cordonia with Liam?"

She inhaled a deep breath through her nostrils and forced a smile. "It's a long story too."

Drake peeked over his shoulder at Nurse Ratchet, giving him a gimlet-eyed stare from behind her computer screen. He groused and turned to face Riley again. "I've got time."

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

Nearly 12 hours after takeoff, the royal jet touched down in sunny Las Vegas, an hour ahead of schedule. Liam and Leo stepped off the plane and strolled across the tarmac to the awaiting vehicle, where a smiling man held the rear passenger door open.

"Bastien," Liam greeted as he approached. "Good to see you again."

"Your Majesty." He bowed. "Likewise ... I have the rental car you requested, and the Queen's address is already programmed into the GPS. Should take no more than 30 minutes to get there."

"Perfect,” he replied, clapping Bastien’s shoulder.“Thanks for having everything ready to go."

Liam had contacted the head guard -- who was still jailed for non-support -- and gained him a day-long pass to provide security detail. Bastien was also to stay in contact with his guards to oversee the capture and detainment of Madeleine.

Bastien took their bags, and the brothers hopped into the back of the Escalade. Once they pulled away from the airport, the directions led the group west. The head guard glanced briefly in the rearview mirror as he drove on. “I want to thank you for giving me a second chance. It’s nice to be out of that place, even if just for the day.”

Liam smiled back. “Not a problem, good man. I can’t think of anyone else I trust more for the job than you … though I’m not sure why. Anyway, do you have any updates on the Madeleine situation?”

“Yes, sir. I contacted my colleagues again just before you arrived. Countess Madeleine was taken by surprise when our guards arrived at her family estate in Krona. Once in custody, she was immediately transported to Valtoria for detention, exactly as you requested.”

"That's terrific news ... Wait ...Did you say, Valtoria?" Liam asked with puzzlement in his tone.

"Yes, sir. As you requested."

"Man, please tell me Mads tried to fight them off, and they had to use the taser on her," Leo insisted as he held his crossed fingers in the air. "A billy club ... a rubber hose ... something."

"There may have been a brief verbal exchange and some threats, but the Countess promised if they permitted access to her computer to send a quick email, she would go with them peacefully and without further protest. There didn't seem to be any harm in doing so, and she followed through with her word. Sorry to break it to you, Prince Leo, but no tasers were harmed in her capture."

"Well, fiddle shit." Leo glanced over at his brother --who was still scratching his head -- in disappointment. "If only I'd been able to get that shock collar on her while I was engaged to her, you wouldn't be in this mess right now. She just squirmed too much. I’m sorry I let you down, little brother."

"It's fine, Leo; it's not the first time,” Liam said dryly before turning his head away from Leo to face the front again. "Can we get back to Madeleine being taken to Valtoria? I never requested that. An accused of the Crown is always placed in the palace dungeon. There aren't even cells in Valtoria to hold her in. What am I missing here?"

Approaching a stoplight, Bastien lightly pressed the brakes, then met Liam’s gaze in the mirror. “The orders I was given to pass along to the guards from you earlier were clear in your text: Once she’s taken into custody, she is to be sent to Valtoria and placed in the cage with the monkey until further notice. That’s what they --”

“Mongo! They put her in the cage with Mongo?” Liam exploded before pinching the bridge of his nose, knowing there was no point in asking how that message got mixed up. “Goddamn it, Leo! Why are you, you, sometimes?” He ran a swift hand down his face and turned to glare at his brother. “Do you realize they consider that cruel and unusual punishment? Did you ever stop to consider how much shit I'm going to hear over this if this gets out?" He let out a sharp breath and threw his hands in the air."How? How did you do it?"

"It's simple pimple, Liam. When you went to the bathroom, I grabbed your phone," he replied bluntly with a shrug. "And according to page 24 of Father's torture book: It's not considered cruel and unusual punishment, as long as she has food, water, and clean shelter -- which she does. Or ... if she's housed with a member of the royal family -- which she is. Mongo is the heir to the throne, so we've got that covered too. So just relax, little bro; Leo’s got it all taken care of for you."

Liam dropped his chin to his chest, then let out a weary breath. “Bastien, call the guards and have them move her to the palace at once.”

As Bastien placed the call, Liam shifted in his seat so that he was staring out the window. He put a palm over his mouth to conceal the curved lips that formed a devilish grin, trying to contain the unbearable urge to bust out laughing. Oh, Maddie ... I hope you and Mongo had one hell of a time together.

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

Back at the hospital, Riley situated herself on the gurney while a nurse prepared to check her vitals and ask general health questions.

In the next bay over, separated by a thin sliding curtain, Drake was finally attended to after Riley reluctantly, but willfully, played up her celebrity status. Once she threatened to have the hospital shut down -- which she doubted was even possible on her end -- the proverbial red carpet was rolled out for both of them; she was still a queen, afterall.

Steps were then taken to ensure they both received the royal treatment, so to speak. That wasn’t typically how Riley preferred to handle situations; she hated big fusses over her. But in the end, she did help one of Liam’s oldest friends finally get the medical attention he needed, so it was worth trying.

The blood pressure cuff on Riley’s arm squeezed tighter just as one of the doctors stepped inside and slid the curtain all the way closed. His cheerful greeting drew Riley's fixed gaze away from the changing numbers on the monitor beside her bed, and she smiled up at him.

The doctor was tall and thin, with thick spectacles perched near the tip of his nose. He gave a brief nod to Alyssa, who was sitting in a chair at Riley’s bedside, rubbing her shoulder. Scanning the patient chart, he spoke without looking up, "Queen Riley, it says here you suffered a fall?"

"I'm just Riley, please," she requested.

The doctor looked up from the paperwork and nodded with an understanding smile. "Of course."

After the initial exam concluded, Alyssa remained behind after the doctor ordered x-rays and transport had wheeled Riley down to radiology.

Bouncing her crossed leg as she scrolled through her phone, Alyssa tried to bide her time until Riley returned. An air conditioning vent overhead that she didn’t realize drowned out so much noise around her, suddenly flipped off. Able to catch the conversation on the other side of the curtain better, she listened with a broken heart as Drake reluctantly described to an attending, the worst days of his life. Alyssa shuddered as he recalled the moment his penis fell off, rolled across the bed, and dropped onto Ethan Ramsey’s leather shoe during an exam. “That poor man. I just want to hug him,” she muttered.

Her little ears perked when the doctor mentioned he was “going to have a look at it.” In her curious mind, there were no doubts that she was too. This was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to take a peek at the first transplant of its kind; no way was she going to miss out on that.

Alyssa slid to the edge of her seat and raised her hand to up to the curtain, easing a tiny portion of it aside. Her blue eyes crinkled with frustration at a nurse who was blocking her view. “Move your ass,” she whispered to herself.

Unable to get a good view, she gave up that spot and eyed the other opening in the curtain at the far end of the room. Sliding off her chair to a crouching position on the floor, Alyssa crab-walked as fast as she could without falling off balance until she made it to the other side. Crooking a stealthy finger along the seam of the curtain, she hoped and prayed Drake’s genital exam wasn’t through yet. What her eyes saw on that gurney when she pulled the fabric aside caused her heart to jolt out of her chest.

Alyssa cupped a hand over her gaping mouth before stepping back and letting the curtain fall loosely shut again. Dropping her hand limply at her side, staring blankly at nothing, she mouthed, “Oh. My. God.”

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

Down in the radiology department, Riley sat patiently in her wheelchair, waiting for the tech to return to take the x-rays. Enjoying the lighter feeling of having an empty bladder again, she let out a contented sigh; she was about to bust earlier. That mandatory urine sample couldn’t have come at a more opportune time.

Left alone to ruminate in her thoughts, Riley wondered about those phone calls she ignored last night from Liam. The regret she felt over her actions the last 26 hours continued to mount up. And it took a heart-to-heart with her best friend to really put things into perspective. Her decisions weren’t the best course to take, even if they were done with the most loving of intentions.

There was a lot to make up to Liam, and she only hoped that it wasn’t too late. Could he even forgive her for all of it?

She wished he was there with her right now. If she knew him the way she thought she did, he’d be standing around telling inappropriate jokes to make her laugh or embarrass her with his silly antics. It was like Liam could be two different people sometimes: Kingly and stoic around everyone else, but the second it was just him alone with her, he was such a big kid. Somehow, she could bring out his true self; the one where he felt comfortable enough to be silly and playful. And as much as she tried to play them off, those little pet names he gave her -- she chuckled to herself as they popped into her head -- were funny. What the hell even was a knucklehead mcspazzatron?

“Miss Brooks” Riley shook herself of her thoughts as the x-ray tech returned and made her way over. “I apologize that took so long.”

Riley smiled up at her. “No need to apologize… Are you ready for me now?”

“Not exactly,” she teased in such a cheery tone, Riley slightly lowered her eyelids, holding her gaze. “You most likely won’t be getting x-rays today, sweetie.” She held a fisted hand out to Riley and opened her palm to reveal the small object inside. “You’re pregnant.”

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

Permanent Tags:

@burnsoslow @dcbbw @ao719 @jessiembruno @texaskitten30 @janezillow @merridithsmiscellany-blog @mskaneko@callmeellabella @queenjilian @sirbeepsalot @drakexwillow@jovialyouthmusic @forthebrokenheartedthings @bebepac @kingliam2019 @lovablegranny @cordoniaqueensworld @amandablink @liamxs-world @choiceskatie @iaminlovewithtrr @hopelessromanticmonie @charlotteg234 @annekebbphotography @txemrn @thecordoniandiaries @alyssalauren @cordonianroyalty @monsoonbloom12 @mom2000aggie @theroyalheirshadowhunter @princessleac1 @kimmiedoo5 @graceful-leah @iam-the-kind-and-thoughtful @thegreentwin @gkittylove99 @neotericthemis @pink-diamond13 @walker7519 @natureblooms24 @yourmajesty09 @gabesmommie1130 @sweatyrysconnoisour @kat-tia801 @debmcg1106 @choicesstan650 @emkay512 @royalromancer @queenrileyrose @cordonia-gothqueen

FRI Tags: @narrytheworld @queenwalton @cordonianprincess @zaffrenotes @zilch3 @drrookie @busywoman @sfb123 @masterofbluff

#fools rush in #liam x mc #liam x riley #king liam #prince liam #the royal romance #trr #choices fanfiction #bbrandy2002

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i-cant-sing · 3 years

Text

Daniel and YN part 9 🌗🌗

“Sensei, I think we have a lead on Daniel and YN.” “Tell me more, Tomura.” Shigaraki’s spine tingles when his master speaks.

His father figure, his sensei. Desperate to please, he pulled up the file his rat in the police station grabbed. “Last week there was an incident at the cafe in the pink district. There were several vases destroyed from an unknown explosion. The windows were cracked from trembling so hard. Almost all the footage tapes were melted, melted in the camera holder. When examined, the broken materials were giving off radiation. Radiation so bad it left a cop in the hospital.” “Interesting… you said almost all the footage?” “Yes. My rat got me the only tape that survived. When I watched it, I think I saw them.” AFO tilted his head. It was progressing faster than planned, but of course he was prepared for that possibility. Daniel seemed to be more subject to his emotions than his sister. Over the years AFO did not see an improvement on his mental development. It seemed that he would need to intervene sooner than expected if he did not want to lose his child to a hero. “Sensei. There’s also news that All Might and his protege are investigating the incident.” Now that was a complication. All Might and his other child should not be allowed total influence over the two. It was time to enact a different plan. One that involved seeing his past wife. “Thank you Tomura. I want you to keep an eye out for them. They are not to be harmed. I have to make arrangements. When you find them make sure you keep a nullifier on hand. In case Daniel needs to be calmed down.” With that, AFO hung up and opened a portal to the Midoryia household. He hasn’t gone by Midoryia for a long time, but even so he did not expect a warm welcome from his past wife. And when she opened the door to him, the look of worry on her face confirmed his suspicions. “They’re not here. Izuku is out trying to find YN. You can’t lash out at him or All Might. They’re-” “I plan to find them first. Izuku is not capable of handling Daniel’s quirk if they upset him. And you underestimate YN. She is very adept at hiding and defense.” “How would you know?” “Because I keep a watchful eye on all my children.” “All your..?” “Four years before we conceived Izuku, I donated my DNA for a little… experiment. The mother had a minor quirk involving radiation. From that pregnancy cane Daniel. Four years later, months after we conceived Izuku, I had my DNA donated again. YN was born from that.” “They 're just experiments to you?” “At first, yes. I did not plan to get attached. But I did. And I have been attached since. I was there when Daniel first displayed reminances of a quirk. I was there when YN learned to balance herself on a high wire. I found them when they were lost. I arranged for her mother’s job to move her to this district and apartment building. I’m the reason you gained custody of them if you recall the deal we made.” “I…” “My point is I may not have been there for Izuku’s life but I have been there for my other two. And I don’t plan to relinquish my children to All Might or those heroes. Is that understood, All Might?” Inko turned around to see her son and his mentor standing in the doorway. Both were glaring at the villain. Ready to ounce at him if need be. But without him she would lose the children. “Mom get away from him.” “Is that any way to speak to your father Izuku?” “YOU LEFT!” Before the fighting could get any worse Inko stood between them. “My baby, my love.” She turned to All Might and Izuku. “We may not like it but he is their father. And he probably would be useful to returning YN and Daniel safely. We have to sit down and figure this out. For them.” So with great tension, Two rivals sat across a dinner table along with a green haired boy and a troubled mother. All discussing the custody of two individuals that didn’t belong to them. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 10 🌗🌗

Sometimes YN wished she had made more of an effort to make friends. Yes Daniel was her best and closest friend, but it would be nice to have a girl or boy her own age to talk to. Someone that she could talk about stupid crap with. She tried being friends with Izuku when she and her brother officially moved in with the Midoryia’s, but they never saw her or Daniel as their own people. Izuku never really cared that YN was great at math. The best in her class. That she had a tiny interest in math because the answers were always exact and never had to be debated. He didn’t bother to care that YN liked reading romance and horror stories, that she really liked cheesy murder mystery movies with a twist villain hidden in plain sight. Izuku knew those things about her, but he just wrote it down in his notebook and filed it away like she wasn’t a person. They were no better to Daniel either. He was treated like an incompetant child. Like he was stupid and a baby. Sure he was disabled but he wasn’t incapable of everything. If they bothered talking and treating him like a person they’d see how complex he was. They’d see that he was so talented when he painted, that he could find a focus on the small important details. That Daniel, while he couldn’t understand complex emotions, could create beautiful things. Daniel had a delayed mind, but he loved figuring out puzzles. Daniel loved pinwheels and painted windmills, loved when they spun to beautiful colours. But did they care, no they saw only a child that needed to be coddled and kept away from how beautiful the world could be. YN couldn’t help but tear up as she held her knees to her chest. Why? Why couldn’t Izuku have been the friend she needed when her parents died? Why didn’t she try harder to make friends when she was at public school? Why did she act so introverted and angry at everyone? Just as she was about to cry, YN felt two long arms wrap around her. “Why you sad?” “It’s nothing really. I just… I really miss momma and pop. I really wish they were here.” “....Me too.” So the two hugged tightly. For tonight and every night that will come, they’ll have each other. In another place, a skinny blue haired villain placed a severed hand on his face. Determined to please his master, his father figure, Shigaraki set out to find the two troubled teens. They couldn’t be hidden forever. Besides, AFO should be allowed to see his children. He was their father, by blood. Shigaraki wasn’t an idiot though. He knew that the incident caused a commotion for those hungry for power. Ready to use quirk off the Boy. Shigaraki made sure to send some of his underlings out to gather intel and report whether or not other crimelords had their sights and claws on the teens. He had to be careful not to cause a scene and bring the heroes upon them. As the cold night blew his hair slightly, Shigaraki pondered the situation. Sensei had a wife, and three children? But not all share the same mother. He didn’t raise his three children, but he looked after them. But out of all of them Sensei chose to raise Shigaraki. He felt special. Sensei wanted to be near him. Nonetheless, these two were family. His sorta siblings. And he would bring them home. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 11 🌗🌗

Young Izuku had the foundations to be a great hero. He was kind, string in heart, brave, and a little stupid. Toshinori knew that he would make a fine owner of OFA. And when he trained the boy he saw the makings of a new symbol of peace. Inko was a beautiful woman, even if she was too anxious to notice. He felt this urge to love and protect her. And over the months with her and Izuku, they formed a genuine love. Toshinori was a little concerned at first when he met YN and Daniel though. He did not really understand why they were kept so sheltered and why they were so babied. YN seemed like a capable young woman. But like with Izuku and Inko, the more time he spent near them, the more he felt protective, loving, obsessive. “Ah, good morning young YN. How was your night?” “What do you think. You stole my switchblade.” Inko seemed to bristle a bit at YN’s angry tone. “Sweetie.. We just thought that you could get hurt. It’s for the best. You know that w-” “That you only want the best for me. Yea I heard the same argument over and over again. And each time it’s still bull.” Before either could reprimand her, she stomped to her room slamming the door. Mornings usually weren’t so great. Especially when the night before they had to make big decisions regr=arding her safety. On All Might’s days off he would spend time with the Midoryia’s, sometimes it would go smoothly and sometimes the mood couldn’t surpass a funeral. All Might felt that he should’ve noticed the signs that YN was going to run away sooner. Perhaps then he could have intervened and then the whole family could air out why things were the way they were.

The first signs had to be when YN kept interfering with the way Inko felt was right to take care of poor Daniel. “Come on Daniel, It’s time to go to the learning center.” “Oh sweetie, I forgot to tell you that we pulled Daniel out of the center classes.” “What?” When YN’s face turned, All Might could see that a screaming match would begin, well not really a match considering young YN would be doing all the screaming. He was just here to pick up young Midoryia but he couldn’t help but stop in. “Well it’s just that Daniel learns so much better at a home, and the center is full of so many people that would be mean to him. Besides, he doesn’t really need to be at the center when I can take care of him.” “Yes he does! How is he gonna learn to cook and clean and manage any type of money if you refuse to let him learn!?!” “Daniel’s mind can’t handle all the new information. He might start to panic and his quirk might-” “YOU don’t know a GODDAMN thing about him! About what is best for him! You wanna do what’s best for my brother?! Than STOP treating him like he’s completely incompetent!” Before she could yell another word All Might stepped in with his trademark ‘I AM HERE’ . “Now young YN that’s no way to speak to your foster mother. She just believes that someone more personal should be teaching Daniel these things. That's not so bad is it?” “But-” “IS IT?” “Fine.I’ll get my school work done early so that I can teach Daniel in the afternoon.”

With that the argument was resolved. If only that was the last time she lashed out at them. If only he prevented the biggest fight that broke out between Izuku and YN. “Will you stop pestering him about his quirk?! It obviously makes him uncomfortable!” YN had walked into the room seeing Izuku asking Daniel all sorts of questions about his quirk and how he used it. It would’ve been fine had he stopped at the first two questions, but he kept going on and on. Wouldn’t stop asking about the destructive qualities, or about how his mind sometimes couldn’t comprehend his own quirk. Izuku didn’t notice how uncomfortable Daniel was getting. “I was just asking him some questions!” “You were being a jerk!” Before Izuku could yell at her again, the table and the mirrors broke. Both turned to see Daniel staring furious and scared, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Don’t scream at my sister!” He spoke angrily. He was so brave, so ready to defend his baby sister. Daniel could’ve brought the whole room down, had All Might in his ultimate form not stepped and stopped him. All Might should’ve known not to grab him and held him down. He should’ve known that the constriction made Daniel panic. Made him destroy more things to make it stop. The screaming continued, until YN grabbed her brother and calmed him. They barricaded themselves in her room that night. And in the morning, the three tried to act like it didn’t happen. All Might took the kids out for the day. Celebrating Izuku’s placement in the hero program. The signs were there that day. The signs that they were going to run. That they were going to leave. If only All Might had seen the signs. If only Toshinori hadn’t gotten attached to them. 🌗🌗

Daniel and YN part 12 🌗🌗

Toshinori was a good man. He wasn’t perfect but he was a good man. He had a moral code and knew right from wrong. Though selfish desires sometimes took his attention more than the moral desires. He knew it was wrong to smother and coddle Daniel and YN, but he couldn’t help wanting to protect them. Even if they didn’t want it. He felt like Izuku, YN, and Daniel were like his children. He felt just as protective over Izuku as he was over YN and Daniel. But he couldn’t coddle him like the other two. He had a duty to Nana to pass on OFA, Izuku had to live up to that power now. And he was so dedicated to being a hero. Toshinori wanted to do right by all the kids. He felt that it was his duty to find his missing kids, and bring them home. Let YN know that he didn’t feel angry that she left. Let Daniel know that he was sorry. So before he could work with his arch enemy, he decided to learn more about the two. So that when they were found again, he could show them that he was ready to be a real mentor figure, a guardian. When he entered YN’s room, it was not what he expected. He thought the sullen looking problem child would have grunge posters, a dirty room, torn up clothes and what not. Imagine his surprise when he saw colourful mini lantern lights strung over the walls. A math book along with several romance and horror storybooks. Her bedspread was a mix of several pillows and a giant comforter. Something that he’s sure would look inviting after a long day. There was a fluffy rug that cushioned his feet. The curtains were dark and cut out all light. On her bookshelf there was a collection of old murder mystery and comedy movies. When he popped one into the small tv player, he felt a stronger connection than before with her. Laughing at the cheesy twists and overacting. She was more than just a quirkless victim. She felt like a daughter to him. Toshinori never understood why he never went into Daniel’s room before. Of course Inko was there. Holding Daniel’s favorite pillow. This room, like the other, was a window into someone that Toshinori never actually knew. For some reason he thought Daniel would have soft light wall colors and some doodles on the wall. But the walls were an earthy dark blue. His blankets were patterned with prints of old paintings. There were canvases of unfinished pieces of art littered around the desk and bed. Notes and papers of unconnected thoughts all tucked away in a drawer. He spotted a framed photo of what he assumed were Daniel’s parents. Hidden under his pillows. When he saw the ceiling, it was a mix of a starry night sky but had handprints all over. In various colors. Touching his own hand to the print, Toshinori felt a connection to the boy. It was like a click happened. He wasn’t just a boy struggling with his developmental disability. Daniel saw the world in colors and was just frustrated that no one could understand those colors. Daniel wasn’t an emotionally compromised person with a violent quirk, he was a boy who wanted to be happy and understood. That day, Toshinori finally felt the wall that was preventing him from really understanding these two was finally lifted. And had he been listening to his moral side he would’ve known to not pursue them. But his selfish side won that fight. With his new understanding came an ugly obsession. A protective instinct to hold and protect them even more. Whilst quirkless YN might be strong and smart, she was too emotional and easy to provoke. Daniel might not be safe out there either. He loses control when people don’t understand. But Toshinori understood now. He would keep his children safe. Izuku, Daniel, and YN. Even if he had to work with the devil. “I’ll bring you home. Everything will be okay. Because I am here.” 🌗🌗

Amazing work as always moon anon! The story has become quite interesting! Its inspiring me to write for platonic AFO, something that I've not talked about for quite a while. Him and well, Erasermic

#moon anon

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let-it-raines · 3 years

Text

I Hope We Never See October (8/12)

When his personal life and football career go up in flames, Killian Jones escapes England for America, finding seclusion in Martha’s Vineyard in order to hide from his demons. It’s a fresh start, or at the very least a paused moment in his life, and all he needs is a few months alone to allow his heart to heal. He doesn’t count on meeting Emma Swan.

Emma’s life depends on tourists who come to the island every summer. It’s how she makes her money working in restaurants and clubs across the vineyard, but every year, she cannot wait until autumn comes and her life returns to normal. She especially cannot wait for Killian Jones to leave.

Rating: Mature

a/n: Okay, so that cliffhanger, huh? I thought our mystery guests were obvious, but then again, I'm writing the story. But We'll answer all those questions here!

AO3: Beginning | Current Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8

-/-

Killian’s side of the bed is cold when Emma’s alarm goes off. She expects him to still be there either sleeping or on his phone – he seems to do most of his work in the mornings when he doesn’t want to get out of bed – but he’s not there.

She hates herself a little bit for even noticing the cool feel of the sheets beneath her fingertips.

Emma groans and stretches her legs out, wondering how much time she has to go back to sleep before she absolutely has to go into work. She squints at her phone. She’s got two hours before she has to be at work. She could definitely sleep for another hour and a half and then look like shit at work. That might be nice, actually.

But then she smells something cooking downstairs, and almost on cue, her stomach growls.

Slowly, she gets out of bed, and the floor is cold against her bare feet. She should really go take a shower before she goes downstairs, and despite the good smell, she goes into the bathroom and quickly showers, leaving her hair dry. It’s curly and a bit frizzy from leaving it wet after her shower at the Nolans’ last night, but that’s a problem for another time…tomorrow. She’ll make it look better tomorrow. Emma grabs a pair of shorts and a button-down, putting them both on, and she pulls out a pair of sandals from her closet for later. She’s not as presentable as she should be, but maybe she can stay in her office and away from customers.

Besides, this is better than what it could have been had she not at least rinsed off the remaining sunscreen and sweat from her skin.

Emma smooths down her shirt and fluffs her hair. There’s the slightest bit of red on her chest from Killian’s beard, so she buttons up one more button before heading downstairs. From the smell of it, Killian is either cooking pancakes or waffles, and she’ll take either.

As far as her seasonal friends with benefits go, Killian is definitely the winner.

For the breakfast, the sex, and maybe the conversation. She thought about that for too long yesterday, and it’s too damn early for her to be thinking about any of this today. All she wants is food and coffee, so that’s all she’s thinking about. It’s all she can.

“Damn, Jones,” Emma shouts from the top of the stairs, “something smells delicious.”

She’s at the bottom of the stairs when she hears other voices. For one brief second, she thinks Killian is on the phone, but she’d know those voices anywhere. One haunts her nightmares, the other is the voice of her dreams, and neither was supposed to be here for three weeks.

Three fucking weeks.

Shit.

Holy shit.

What the hell has Neal done that he has to show up like this without even giving her any kind of heads up?

And how does she fix this? Killian was never supposed to know about Henry. He was the one question she’d never answer. He would have been her veto had it ever come up. When he got home from spending the summer with his dad in New York City, Emma was going to start phasing Killian out. They’d only ever spend time at his place, she’d never spend the night unless Henry was sleeping over at his friends. Usually, she doesn’t have this problem because the guy leaves way before this. He doesn’t have the chance to ever know about Henry, and Emma likes it that way.

The last guy that met Henry was Walsh, and that was only on accident. Or at least that’s what Walsh said, but Emma’s always thought Walsh showed up at the Blue Dog at that time on purpose because he knew Henry would be there with Emma. The guy never understood why Emma didn’t let him meet her son, but when you’ve never been able to trust a man besides David and possibly Graham with him, you have reservations.

His dad’s a full-blown asshole who has upended her life more than once, and she’s already so done with whatever bullshit excuse he’s got for bringing Henry home early.

Emma jumps in place, trying to breathe without really inhaling, and then she turns the corner into the kitchen.

The sight is as bad as she expected. The first person she sees is Killian, and if it were any other morning, this would be a good view to wake up to. His joggers hang low on his hips, he’s standing by the stove shirtless, and his hair is sticking in several directions from where her hands tugged on it last night. Then she sees Neal, who is standing in the corner with his arms crossed, frown on his face. He looks older since she saw him at the beginning of June. His beard is filled with more gray, his hair unruly in a purposeful way. He looks pissed, and Emma already knows this is about to be hell.

And then she sees Henry, and the tenseness fades from her shoulders when she sees his smile and the giant backpack he’s wearing. He’s got to empty that damn thing out.

God, she’s missed him so much.

“Mom!” he squeals, running toward her.

Emma opens her arms and embraces him, holding onto the back of his head and breathing him in. As much as Emma sometimes likes the freedom her summer affords her, she does miss her son. A lot. Him being gone is the entire reason she picks up shifts at The Oaks. She needs the distraction, not so much the money, until the summer is over and Henry comes back home for school.

“Hey, kid,” Emma laughs as she keeps hugging him. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. Can I have the waffles?”

“What?”

He pulls back and grins. “The waffles Killian made. Can I have them?”

“Killian,” Emma slowly repeats. She looks over Henry’s head toward Killian who is furiously scratching behind his ear, and she realizes just how much he has a deer in the headlights look going on. As confused as she is right now, she knows he’s just had a few bombs dropped on him. “Uh, yeah, why don’t you and my friend Killian eat. I’m going to talk to your dad in the backyard for a minute. Neal.”

“What? I don’t get a hi?” Neal asks.

“Backyard. Now.”

He smiles, and once upon a time, she would have found that charming. Right now, she wants to slap it right off his face. Whatever he has to say, she knows it won’t be good. Emma closes the back door behind them and moves far enough across the deck to keep Henry from hearing.

“What the hell, Neal?”

The smile falls, and Emma crosses her arms over her chest. She has to put up a barrier with him. “Why are you so angry? Are you not excited to see Henry? He has been gone all summer, you know.”

“Of course I’m excited to see my kid. But I wasn’t supposed to see him three weeks from now. And with a head’s up. We have a schedule, Neal. Like, a court-mandated schedule that you made us get, and you’re not sticking to it.”

“That I made us get?” he scoffs. “What’s that supposed to mean? If I recall, you’re the one who kept my son from me for seven years and then didn’t want to give me custody.”

How is he such an ass? Seriously. How does he still not get it?

Emma steps closer and straightens her back. She doesn’t need to make herself taller, not for him, but she does anyway. “I got pregnant with Henry when I was sixteen. You were twenty-four. Do the math on how that’s wrong in about eighty-two different ways. And if I recall, and trust me I have a pretty good memory of this day, when I told you I had something important to tell you, you disappeared off the face of the planet. That doesn’t really seem like a guy who deserves to know about his kid.”

“Oh, come on, Ems. You can’t still be mad about that, can you?”

Is it still considered assault if Emma punches someone who deserves to be punched? There must be a law making that okay.

“Why are you here early, Neal?”

She doesn’t want to get into this with him. He’s never going to understand how much he fucked up Emma’s life. There’s no need for her to try to get him to understand now when all she wants is to know why he just showed up early.

“Who’s that guy in there?” he asks, evading her question.

“A friend.”

His mouth crinkles when he laughs, and she hates it. “A shirtless friend who fixes you breakfast? I hope you don’t make a habit of this when Henry’s home.”

“You don’t get a say on my dating life. Or my parenting skills. Now answer my question.”

He blows out air, and rolls his eyes, like she’s the one inconveniencing him. “Look, Tamara wants to go on vacation before summer ends, and she didn’t want to bring Henry with us. So I thought I’d bring him back to you and it wouldn’t be an issue. I’m sure you can keep him entertained until he goes back to school.”

“Oh my God. Oh my God, Neal, are you serious? You are breaking the rules of our custody agreement because you want to go on vacation with your girlfriend? How is it possible that you’re so selfish? I mean, God, seriously.”

Emma groans and buries her face in her hands before screaming. Or at least screaming as loud as she can without Henry knowing.

“Henry is a good fucking kid,” Emma continues, slowly breathing to calm herself down, “and he loves you. He doesn’t see all the shit I do because I’ve hidden that from him, but you can’t just do this, Neal. You can’t decide you’re done playing dad and give him back to me when you nearly made me go broke fighting to keep custody of the kid I’d raised since he was born. That’s not how being a parent works.”

“That’s rich coming from the woman who has used her time away from her kid to fuck British tourists and is upset her kid is back early because her vacation has to end.”

Emma looks up into the eyes of the man she once loved, the man who gave her son his eyes, and she says, “Go say goodbye to Henry and get the hell out of my house. I’ll see you next June, if you still decide to show up then.”

It’s a dismissal, and Neal never takes those. Not sitting down at least. She’s sure there will be arguments and petty jabs for the next few months. He’ll make her life hell while playing as the good guy. He has this act where he says things like “he’s a good person now, can’t she just move on from the past?”

There’s a difference between forgiveness and moving on that not a lot of people get. They say you have to forgive to move on, but that’s not true. You can move on without forgiveness because some people don’t deserve it. At all. Sometimes all you can do is stop letting them live in your head rent free, and you have to forgive yourself for ever falling for the lies.

Emma’s chosen that route. She’s forgiven herself, has moved on with her life even with Neal constantly trying to pull her back down, and she’s not about to stand here and let him criticize her personal life when he has no business in it.

Through the window, Emma watches Neal hug Henry goodbye. It takes less than a minute before he’s gone and Henry is back to eating his breakfast. Emma would laugh, she wants to at how ridiculous this all is, but she’s not finding anything about today funny. Because while Neal will go back to New York and will be happy, she’s stuck here cleaning up the mess he just made because she has to do everything in her power to make sure her kid never knows the version of his dad she knows.

A phone call would have been nice. At least then she could have gotten Killian out of the house. She still would have been pissed, but at the very least, she would have been able to make things a little better than they are now.

“Shit,” Emma breathes out, looking toward the sky. “Shit, shit, shit.”

Emma inhales and exhales several times before forcing a smile and walking inside where Henry is eating the breakfast that was meant for her and talking to Killian about soccer of all things.

Well, not of all things. Most of the time, Emma forgets that Killian plays professionally. Hell, they talked about it yesterday, and it still isn’t at the forefront of her mind. That part of his life has nothing to do with hers…except for right now when Killian is talking to her son about it.

He still doesn’t have on a damn shirt.

“Mom, did you know Killian used to play soccer? Like, as a job. That’s so cool! Do you think he could coach my team?”

“I did know that, kid.” Emma kisses his forehead, and he squirms away. It’ll take him a week or two to get used to her kind of affection versus Neal’s, so she’s not too offended. “How do you know that?”

“I recognize him.”

“Since when do you watch a lot of British soccer? Or football as Killian calls it.” She mimics Killian’s accent, but she also knows she did a terrible job with it.

Henry shrugs and stuffs a large bite of waffle in his mouth. “Dad doesn’t have anything to watch on TV but sports channels. All I did during the day was watch old soccer matches.”

“Wait. Where was your dad?”

Henry shrugs again. “I don’t know. At work I guess.”

Neal works from home most days of the week. What an ass. Emma bets he didn’t even get someone to watch Henry. He just used old sports reruns to keep him entertained.

“Hey, kid,” Emma says, finally looking to Killian, “can you stay in here and eat breakfast while I talk to Killian in the other room?”

“Sure.”

Emma flashes a tight smile and then nods her head toward the stairs. Killian gets the message and walks upstairs without being asked, immediately heading toward the bedroom. He stands by the window, arms crossed over his chest, and Emma watches his jaw tick, the smile he had on for Henry a moment ago, gone.

Softly, Emma closes the door behind her.

“I have my personal question of the day, Swan. You have a son?”

Okay, great, so this is how it’s going to be. Emma opens her dresser drawer and pulls out a shirt for Killian. He catches it after she tosses it and tugs it on. It doesn’t help as much as she’d like it to.

“Okay, look,” Emma begins, “you were never supposed to meet Henry. He wasn’t…his dad was supposed to have him for three more weeks.”

“The contract on my rental house has more time on it than that.”

Emma runs her hands through her hair and sighs. “I don’t know. I would have figured it out. Only go to your place, spend less time together. I mean, it’s only natural, right? Because you’re going to leave, and it would make sense for things to die down between us.”

Killian laughs, but Emma gets the sense he doesn’t find any of this funny. “Yeah, it makes perfect sense. This was only about sex, right?”

“Killian.”

“No, no.” He holds his hand up. “It’s fine, Swan. I get it. It’s my fault for thinking we might be mates on top of that.”

“I mean, we are – kind of, maybe. I don’t know.” Emma sighs and sits on the end of her bed. She doesn’t know what to do. Even more, she doesn’t know what to say. She definitely doesn’t know how to feel. “It was never supposed to be like this. I’m usually better at not blurring the lines. I don’t know what happened with us that made me drop my guard.”

“I knew you found me charming.”

Emma laughs and falls back on the mattress. “I have a kid, Killian, and he’s back. I can’t be like I was. We can’t just fuck whenever we want or stay out late or eat pizza at three in the morning. I’ve got to make sure Henry has a place to stay and Mary Margaret is across the country visiting her parents so that’s out for awhile. And I’m still working two jobs because I thought I had time to do that. I don’t, God, I don’t know what to do about anything in my life. Plus, you know, I want to spend time with Henry, and I don’t have a lot of free time.”

“I could watch him, love. He’s a bit older than what I’m used to with my nieces, but I’m sure I can find ways to entertain him.”

Emma sits up. Her heart is beating way too fast, and suddenly, the true reality of this situation hits her.

The man she’s been sleeping with has met her son.

And he’s offering to babysit.

What the actual hell?

She needs time to think. And scream. She definitely has to scream into her pillow for at least an hour because she literally cannot think of another thing to do. This is all too much, and she needs Killian to leave. He makes this all too complicated. She needs to go downstairs and eat breakfast with Henry. That she can do. That’s not complicated. That’s something she’s done every day for ten years, even if it’s usually Pop Tarts or a bowl of cereal, not homemade waffles and eggs.

“Can you, uh,” Emma starts, biting her lip, “can you go home? I need to spend time with Henry. He won’t show it, but I know he knows why his dad brought him home early. I’ve got some crap to deal with, but I’ll text you later.”

His eyes narrow, and Emma knows that look by now. He knows she’s lying, but she doesn’t expect him to call her out on her lie.

And he doesn’t because as quickly as his eyes narrow, they widen and a slight smile creeps onto his lips. “I’ll see you later, Swan. I’ll get my clothes out of the machine downstairs and go.”

“Thanks.”

Killian doesn’t move, and Emma has a hard time looking at him until she does. His eyes are so damn blue. It’s ridiculous.

But then he moves. Leaves, actually, just like she asked him to, and she hears every single step as he leaves the house and gets into his car. Emma breathes out a sigh of relief, maybe a little confusion, and then she grabs her phone of her bedside table.

Not a single warning text or call from Neal, just like she thought. Ass.

ES: SOS. My house. 10 minutes.

RL: Are you dead?

ES: Yes, I’m texting you from beyond.

RL: I am hungover. Give me 30.

Emma tosses her phone on her bed and heads downstairs. The life she was living is over. Henry’s home, and she is his mom. That’s what she has to do, and right now, that means putting her anger at Neal and confusion with Killian behind her to go eat breakfast with her kid.

She can only partially ignore that Killian was making this breakfast for her.

For them.

-/-

“King Harold,” Ruby says when she walks through the door in her pajamas and immediately sees Henry, “welcome back to your seaside palace. Come give me a hug.”

“Only if you never call me Harold again.”

“I can’t agree to that, Harold.”

Henry rolls his eyes, but he hugs Ruby anyway. “My name is Henry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Ruby kisses the top of his head. “You smell like waffles.”

“Killian made waffles for breakfast.”

“Killian did?” she asks, looking over Henry’s head toward Emma. Emma shrugs and cocks her head.

“Kid, why don’t you go unpack? When you’re finished, we’ll go to the beach before I have work.”

“Really?”

“Mhm.” Emma hums and nods at the stairs. “I told them I’d be late today. Get your bags and go.”

Henry quickly grabs his suitcases. They’re nearly bigger than him, but he manages to drag them up the stairs. Emma waits until she hears his bedroom door close, and then she moves to the kitchen and collapses on a barstool. Ruby fixes herself a plate of leftover food and starts eating. “I have eight thousand questions.”

Without lifting her head from the counter, Emma tries to answer at least half those questions. “Killian slept over and was making breakfast when Neal and Henry walked in, so they both met him, which went over as well as you’d expect. Neal didn’t tell me he was bringing Henry back early, but apparently his girlfriend got tired of having him around and wanted to go on vacation. Neal thought ambushing me was the best way to go about the situation, and then he got pissed about me having a guy over.”

Emma peaks up to see Ruby blinking. Slowly. Did she not process anything or is she just so hungover that it’s taking her a long time to figure out what to say?

“Was Neal charming or something when you guys were together?’

Emma laughs. “I was sixteen, and he paid attention to me. He might as well have been Prince Charming.”

“He’s the worst.” Ruby scrunches up her nose. “And you’re not a Prince Charming type of girl. I get more of a rebel vibe from you.”

“Yeah, because mom and restaurant manager means rebel.”

Rub leans over and pokes Emma’s nose. “I don’t think you know how badass you are, Emma Swan. Give me a minute to get some coffee and make more food because I definitely need to dissect everything that’s going on with you. Baby daddy and new boyfriend not included.”

“Not my boyfriend.”

“Oh, right. Just sex friend because you totally invite sex friends to parties at Marg’s place. That seems normal.”

Emma narrows her eyes. “I invited you here to help with a crisis. Not create a new one.”

“I’m just saying,” Ruby sighs, “Mr. Jones is a hell of a lot better than most of the guys you shack up with. Your unfortunate sperm donor included. I’d think about that if I were you. I mean, we both know you’re about to ghost him, but at least think about it, Emma.”

Yeah, maybe she will.

-/-

@qualitycoffeethings @marrtinski @klynn-stormz @scarletslippers @elizabeethan @jrob64 @therealstartraveller776 @thejollyroger-writer @galadriel26 @galaxyzxstark @idristardis @karenfrommisthaven @teamhook @searchingwardrobes @jamif @shireness-says @ultimiflos @onepunintendid @killianswannn @carpedzem @captainkillianswanjones @mayquita @mariakov81 @jennjenn615 @onceuponaprincessworld @a-faekindagirl @scientificapricot @xellewoods @ultraluckycatnd @stahlop @kmomof4 @tiganasummertree @singersdd @tornadoamy @cluttermind @andiirivera @itsfabianadocarmo @captain-emmajones @ilovemesomekillianjones @taylrsversion @dramioneswan @jonesfandomfanatic @wefoundloveunderthelight @gloriousfemaleworrier @spartanguard @snowbellewells

#I Hope We Never See October #cs fic #cs ff #cs fanfic #captain swan fic #captain swan ff #captain swan

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adonis-koo · 4 years

Text

Blue Spring

| 4 |

↳ Summary: Jeon Jungkook, only well known as the youngest (and hottest) dad at the daycare, he’s got it all, the looks, the sweetheart personality, the body, but here’s what gets everyone- he doesn’t wear a wedding ring. The only problem lies in his fickle one year old daughter that hates just about every daycare worker out there...Well...besides you that is. Which of course leads to Jungkook liking you just as much as his daughter...if not maybe a little too much.

Or in other words...You and Jungkook are secretly crushing on one another but too shy to admit it.

↳ Pairing: Single dad!Jungkook/Reader

↳ Genre: Daycare AU, Slice of life, copious amounts of fluff, a hair of angst, future smut

Previous | Next

The last few months...were not easy.

Seo Yeon was not one to give up easily and she in fact did attempt to file for full custody over Mina, it was an absolute nightmare for Jungkook but you were with him every step of the way. Keyword, she tried. Three months, it was ongoing for the two of them, but eventually Jungkook won, you’d never forget the tears of relief he cried that day while hugging you. He’d never have to worry about Seo Yeon taking his beautiful baby away again.

“I’m just glad things are beginning to settle down y’know?” It was nice having things back to normal, the looming weight and pressure was constantly over your shoulders the whole two months the custody battle was going on. You had admittedly been terrified with each day you watched Mina wondering if it would be your last with her.

Even after the battle it still took another month for things to really go back to normal, for the tension both you and Jungkook had been under to slowly dissipate. Pausing your coloring you sighed as you watched Mina, who was happily perched on your lap color over the spot you had been working on with her pink colored pencil, “Rightly so, it was insane with everything going on with Jungkook’s ex. I’m just glad you guys won the battle, he would’ve been crushed if Seo Yeon actually won.” Chloe hummed as she leaned back in her chair as best she could.

You shuddered to think if Seo Yeon had won, she was manipulative and almost seemed unstable. You’d even go as far as to say she didn’t even really love Mina, it alway came across she was just using her as a tool to get Jungkook back. It made you feel disgusted.

“I don’t even wanna think about it. I’m just glad it’s over. It feels like maybe we’ll be able to spend more time together without constantly worrying.” You sighed as you went back to coloring, pressing your lips together as you honed in on princess Aurora’s hair.

“I’m sure you guys will probably be able to...you know...get it on easier than the past few months huh.” Lisa hummed, her eyes peering out over the room like a hawk.

You nearly choked on your own spit as you glanced up at both of your coworkers who seemed rather taken aback by your reaction, “Uh…” You nibbled against your lip, well aware your face was probably flushed as you glanced back down at the table.

“Shut up!” Chloe immediately straightened her posture, her hands pressed against the table as she leaned in, “You guys haven’t!?”

You sunk in your chair a little as you pressed your lips together, feeling like the tips of your ears were on fire as you shrugged meekly, “It was never the right time…” Your friend's expressions morphed into somewhat pity, as if understanding given what the circumstances were, “With everything that was going on, we were almost always preoccupied...I mean he tried a few times.” You muttered under your breath making Lisa choke on her drink as they both began laughing, a small smile peaking on your lips as you laughed with them, “But like I said, it was never the right time…”

“But hey...it’s been about a month now...y’know...just saying.” Chloe took a sip of her coffee as if she totally wasn’t insinuating what you all knew she was. You glanced back down at the coloring sheet, Mina had nearly covered it in pink making your lips curve up a little.

Shrugging meekly you answered, “It’ll happen when it happens. I mean don’t get me wrong Jungkook is...definitely ready…” You felt your cheeks flush at the memories of less than innocent text conversations. The once meek and docile boy you knew had completely changed in these few months to a confident man who was eager to get his hands on you, with every smirk, innuendo and steamy text. Jungkook had made it very clear he wanted this. But he never pushed or pursued outside of teasing, not wanting to pressure you or make you feel obligated. But admittedly just the idea made you squirm in embarrassment and heat. Of course you wanted to be beneath him, you were with him every step of such a harsh and taxing journey, you shared tears of joy together, you wanted nothing more than him.

You clacked your tongue, positive your cheeks were flushed as you glanced back at your paper, working around the spots Mina had colored in with her pencil. It wasn’t like sex was everything, you cherished your relationship with Jungkook regardless, but...Maybe you were just scared? You weren’t sure, but you weren’t going to worry about it. It would happen when the time was right.

The day passed relatively normal, you had gotten up several times to attend to other children and each time Mina was whiny, toddling behind you while gurgling, she was forming words now but nothing actually comprehensible, she was very enthusiastic regardless. Unless, again you were with another child, in which her speech would become more whiny and she'd stamp her feet as if thinking for sure that would gain your attention.

It was rather funny because Mina was a very jealous child, not just with other children but between you and Jungkook as well, always trying to capture not just his but your attention as well. It was cute. The day had gone relatively fast and by the time the evening rolled around kids were beginning to get picked up left and right.

Jungkook was no exception, peeking his head into the room as the smile twitched on his lips as he fondly watched Mina experimentally attach two magnet trains together, she immediately bounced on your lap with an excited gurgle as she showed you her two piece train, “Oh my goodness! Isn’t that so neat honey?” You cooed with a smile twisting on your lips as you leaned down, “But I think someone is watching you…”

Mina immediately perked as if knowing this little routine that anytime you brought someone up it was almost always daddy. She shrilled with excitement when her eyes landed on Jungkook, but rather than tumble off your lap she bounced while fisting your shirt as if trying to get you to pick her up.

Snorting you curved a brow as you stood up, setting her on your hip as you clacked your tongue, “Even she knows I go with you most days now.” Mina had gotten way too used to you leaving with you both and it was really beginning to show.

Chuckling Jungkook stretched out his arms as Mina mirrored him, passing her off as he replied, “Can’t help it, you know you were the one who taught her that.” Even at the tender age of one, Mina was used to you being with them most days now, and oftentimes not wanting to take no for an answer when you had to leave.

Rolling your eyes you picked up her backpack as you replied, “Well if someone didn’t insist I go home with him most days she wouldn’t have those expectations.” Jungkook puckered his lips, as if trying to keep the smile that kept tugging at his lips, sighing you could feel your own lips tug into a smile as you hummed, “If you’re ready I’m ready. I just need to clock out.”

You both stepped out of the room, bidding your friends goodbye who both sent you suggestive looks making you flush as you closed the gate. Going behind the counter you clocked out before heading out.

Days like these were more common than not, it worked out that you got off around the time Jungkook usually picked Mina up, give or take a few minutes and he was always happy for you to stay for dinner. You both had even taken up the habit of cooking together- well...it was more like Jungkook was teaching you how to cook. But he always made it fun to learn. Tonight was no exception as you both made...well attempted to make Bulgogi, had it not been for Jungkook the beef would have probably been a lot more chewy and less flavorful.

Cutting up little pieces you placed your chopsticks into Mina’s mouth as she happily chewed while bouncing, “The guys were wanting to come over later tonight,” Jungkook had been rambling about his day, “And since you don’t have class or work in the morning you could join us tonight…”

He wiggled his brows a little making you snort as you wiped off Mina’s mouth, “And watch you guys play Overwater? Pass.” He let out a whiny sigh as he slumped in his seat, looking an awful lot like Mina. You had already met Jungkook’s friends a plentiful of times before with everything that had happened and you got along with them great! But still...gaming night was a boys night.

“You could play with us,” Jungkook was quick to try and persuade you as you began eating, Mina playing with the leftover sauce on her plate as she kicked her legs, “You know how to play!”

You couldn’t stop the endearing smile on your face as you clacked your tongue, “Against you and all of them? No thanks.” It was true, Jungkook actually showed you the ropes but you weren’t a great player, you wouldn’t even dub yourself a good player. It was still fun but with all of his friends? Even harder pass.

Jungkook’s bottom lip jutted into a pout, his voice getting that tone he always had when he wasn’t getting his way, “We’ll be on the same team! It’ll be a lot of fun!” No matter how cute he looked he was just going to have to accept your answer.

You shook your head before letting out a laugh at his kicked puppy expression, standing up you cleaned off Mina’s fingers that had been covered in sauce and of course, her face was messy as well, though cute. Helping her out of her booster chair you glanced at Jungkook’s sulky expression, “...I guess I can stay, but don’t expect me to play.”

Jungkook practically flew out of his chair, hands cupping your cheeks as he rapidly pressed short little kisses on your lips, “Thank you baby.” You tried to push him away with a laugh but he wouldn’t relent as he pressed one last peck against your lips. It was just as well because Mina had wedged herself between both your and Jungkook’s legs, gurgles escaping her louder than normal as if to draw both of your attention to her.

“I know Mina,” You sighed as your lips tugged into a pout, as you leaned down and scooped her into your arms, “Boys are gross.” Jungkook laughed as he pressed kisses against Mina’s cheeks. She seemed to disagree as she happily bounced against your side, practically relishing in Jungkook and your attention both. Talk about a diva! Her expression made you smile as you tutted, brushing the strands of hair from her face. She really was just too cute for her own good.

The night had settled in and boys...well boys will be boys. It was cute seeing all of them huddled in the living room, you had even helped Jungkook prepare for their game night by setting out soju and various bags of chips and dip for them. You stayed on the floor for the first hour and a half, conversing with those who weren’t playing while coloring with Mina, who had been hyper focused on her picture before ever so often demanding Jungkook’s attention.

“I don’t know…” Jimin whined, sitting upside down on the couch, his hair flopped, nearly touching the ground which Mina took liberty in grabbing a fist full of happily while yanking it making Jimin yelp.

You could hear Seokjin and Yoongi smuggly snickering at him rubbing his scalp as he tugged his hair from Mina’s grip as you felt a laugh bubbling against your lip as well. Sitting on the floor upright, his plump lips twisting into a pout as he squished Mina’s cheeks, “That’s not very nice!”

Mina only giggled as she clapped her hands, ignoring his chastising arounds as you smiled, gently combing her soft hair from her eyes, “I think you should give her a chance, I know you bachelor's love your freedom,” You paused as you squinted to Yoongi who pretended he wasn’t listening as he watched Jungkook and Taehyung shout in desperation at the screen, “But even if you get a girlfriend, it doesn’t mean you have to settle right away. Relationships can be very rewarding. Right Jungkook?”

You snorted at Jungkook’s head perking a little at his name despite his eyes wide and his long fingers mashing the buttons on his controller, “Yes baby!” He growled the end of his word as his brows scrunched together, “Taehyung what the fuck!” Obviously dying he dropped his controller as he began to argue with his friend. Clearly not even fully listening to what you had said to begin with.

“Language! We have little ears!” Jungkook didn’t even acknowledge your scowl as he was preoccupied with arguing with Taehyung, sighing you couldn’t help but feel a smile tug on your face before glancing back at Jimin who shifted in his spot before groaning. Mina promptly crawled into his lap while bouncing, her signal for wanting to be bounced and thrown up in the air to be caught- Jimin’s speciality.

“Yeah but I’m not like Mr Romantic over there,” Jimin slumped against the foot of the couch, letting Mina tug at his hands as she furrowed her little brows in impatience, “I’ve never been interested in relationships. Besides, she probably doesn’t even care anyways.”

You could never mistake the mutter in his voice, his eyes brewing as if in some internal battle as you sighed, “You’ll never know if you don’t ask. That’s all I’m saying.” Jungkook’s friends were an interesting bunch, some married, others with kids. And of course the two bachelors Jimin and Yoongi.

The boys continued to rotate on who played Overwatch with one another and once they thought it was a good idea to bring the spare TV out and hook up an extra console you felt lost. Sighing as you grimaced while watching Taehyung and Seokjin look like two little boys with a new toy.

“Someone's definitely tired.” Jungkook leaned over on the couch, a soft smile on his face as you tilted your head before glancing down. Unable to stop your own smile, you hadn’t realized Mina was passed out on your lap, it was nearing eight o’clock and it was generally around her bedtime regardless.

“She had a busy day, you know she tries to kick other kids away from me anytime they ask for help?” A smile quirked on your lips as you and Jungkook both laughed. Letting out a sigh of contentment you curled up against Jungkook’s warm body, his controller still in hand as Jimin sat down on the couch on the other side of you as they resumed playing.

By the time it was nine o’clock though Mina was passed out on your lap and you were

admittedly getting tired yourself, “Hey, I’m gonna go lay down with Mina.” Jungkook barely nodded in your direction, his eyes still focused on the screen and his nose scrunched as he smashed buttons on the controller. It was still cute the way he leaned his cheek close to you as you softly pecked against it before shifting Mina in your arms as you bid the rest of the boys goodnight.

Trudging down the hallway softly you yawned as you opened the door to Jungkook’s room, gently closing it before setting her little figure down on the bed. You supposed if you were spending the night Jungkook would survive sharing his clothes given you hadn’t come prepared. Digging through his shirt draw you pulled out an oversized black shirt, this would do. Something you found cute was his love for oversized clothes, always saying he preferred to dress comfortably over fashionably.

Of course if it was big on him it was going to be massive on you, folding up your clothes you set them on the dresser before picking back up Mina, opening the bed covers before setting her down once more and crawling in bed. Mina’s blanket had been wrapped over her shoulder and she immediately curled in closer to you, letting out a cooed gurgle as her tiny fist tugged against Jungkook’s shirt you wore.

Letting out a tiny laugh you gently combed through her fine hair, god what did you do to deserve two beautiful, sweet people? The idea was scary at first, possibly becoming a mom to Mina, but after you had gotten over the initial fear you loved her more than anything in the world. You could only hope to live up to being the mom Mina deserved to have. Sleepily you turned out the lights before resting your hand against her little back, letting your eyes close before drifting off to sleep.

…

Groaning softly you shifted against the soft bed, the room was still dark and rain could be heard trickling gently against the rooftop. Reaching out for Mina’s missing figure you only found the hard surface of a chest instead, arms wrapped securely around you as you snuggled in close. Jungkook. He must have finally gone to bed, what time was it? “...Mmm Kook, Kook where’s Mina.” Your sleepy figure suddenly became a little more awake at the realization Mina was no longer with you.

Jungkook groaned a little, shifting against you as he pressed his nose into your neck, “Crib, didn’t want too at first, you both looked cute together.” His voice was deep and drowsy, still half asleep as he relaxed back into your body, “Some of the guys stayed over by the way.”

You shifted around to face him making a whine escape his lips, he had been spooning you before and was now forced to shift his own position a little so you could let your leg wrap over his hip and bury into his chest, “Mkay.” You yawned as you let your eyes drop closed again.

What a perfect way to wake up...and fall back asleep. Jungkook smelt like cinnamon and vanilla, the most generic lotion out there but you wouldn’t deny how soft his skin was because he loved to be ‘well moisturized’. He was constantly warm too, like a little miniature furnace that was perfect to cuddle when nights got too chilly, and of course he was strong, a lot of days he was smug in his showcase of it when he threw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

The memory made you smile against his skin, you had been shouting while laughing for him to put you down but it ended up upsetting Mina, making her think something was going on between you both that wasn’t good.

You both ended up stopping just to sit down and coddle her, except she pushed her little hands against Jungkook’s shin, as if that was supposed to tell him off before waddling over to you, collapsing against your shoulder while hugging you. Jungkook looked so offended at her while you bursted out laughing.

Curling your arms around him you wiggled in closer, as many memories surrounded your mind. A low, raspy moan made you jump, pulling you out of your thoughts as a large hand suddenly grabbed your hip, “Am I supposed to ignore you doing that or…?” Jungkook mumbled against your skin making you furrow your brows, what…?

That’s when you felt it, the thick hardened length that rubbed against your inner thigh in need, this time making you jump even harder, mainly because you weren’t expecting...that to be there, “I...I didn’t realize…” You cleared your throat as you mumbled back, already beginning to feel your cheeks flush and your heart rapidly beat in your chest. Morning wood was normal! It was totally normal! It wasn’t like this was the first time you had experienced this, you had slept over at Jungkook’s before.

But he’d usually excuse himself to the shower and...presumably took care of himself. Oftentimes teasing you on if you wanted to join him, which you’d always decline. Today seemed different though, it was the first time you had stayed over this month, and while there was nothing special about this month. It was the first of many where you and Jungkook could simply be together stress free while taking care of Mina.

You jolted once more at the squeeze on your hip, Jungkook's lips parting against your neck making an involuntary whine escape you as his tongue dragged against it’s skin, “And now that you do…? You aren’t gonna make me keep using my hands, right?” You could feel his playful smile against your neck, grabbing your hips to shift them back against his hard on. Your face felt nearly as hot as your body that was flushed with arousal at the way he easily manhandled you.

But something struck you as you let out a breathy laugh, “Maybe, considering there's other people in the house right now…” You weren’t sure you really wanted to attempt this with him with others present, even if they were crashed out in the living room...well with anyone in the house, honestly...You were...rather loud in bed with the right people, and given you were wet just because Jungkook manhandled you slightly? You had a feeling he wasn’t just the right person but an amazing person, you didn’t want to subject anyone to that.

Jungkook groaned against your neck, his hips lazily grinding in your thigh making his cock rub along your warm skin as you bit against your lip, he was such a tease! “If we’re quiet it’ll be fine.” He was acting like this wouldn’t be your first time together!

You felt your face getting hotter by the second, “...I’m not exactly quiet..” You didn’t really want to openly admit that, but Jungkook needed to understand this wasn’t going to work. You weren’t opposed to helping him out. But you’d prefer to wait for yourself, you didn’t exactly trust yourself to ‘be quiet’.

“Oh really?” Now Jungkook was really horny, you could tell by his voice becoming huskier, his hands squeezing at your hips making you whine softly against his chest as he placed them against his, his thick imprint rubbing against your dampened panties, “Do tell.”

It was hard to stand your ground when he was practically dry humping you, his throbbing length rubbing so close to your clit it made your hands curl against his shoulders and your brows pressed together as stuttered, “Y-yeah, I...mmph! I moan a lot.” Your body felt like an inferno at your confession and your expression became meeker by the moment as you pressed your forehead against his chest, too embarrassed to even look at him.

You could hear his soft moan at your words though, your panties sticking to your wet folds and you were positive if he kept rubbing against you like this they’d be soaked soon, “Mmm why? What makes you moan hm? What makes that little cunt wet?”

You practically squeaked against him at the seeking thrust of his hips, his swollen imprint pressing into your clit with enough friction to make your hips buck back against his, “Mm! A-ah, Jungkook…!” You whined quietly against him at the way he grabbed your hips, roughly grinding his hips against yours as his cock rubbed harshly into your clit, your panties soaked and your fingers fumbling to find his hair in need.

A loud gurgled cry was all it took before the sexual tension and the way you both grinded each other like high schoolers was gone. Fumbling in bed you both sat up as Mina’s muffled cries became louder, “She probably needs a diaper change,” You murmured as you glanced at the clock, it was five AM but still a little too early for her to be up and toddling about.

Jungkook groaned as he flopped back in bed, looking mildly frustrated making you laugh. Your hands were a little shaky at the sight of the wet patch on his crotch from where you both grinded one another, “Don’t mind me and my hand over here.” He waved you off as you rolled your eyes with a smile.

Standing up you made your way for the door, “Jungkook don’t be dramatic, we’ll have sex eventually.” It was easy to say that when you were turned away from him and leaving the room where you didn’t have to see his messy daunting figure.

You could hear him groan as you laughed making him call out with a whine, “You make that sound a lot longer away then necessary.” You closed the door as you shook your head. It was going to happen, when the time was right. You didn’t know when that was but you weren’t going to rush it. It was fine.

Walking into Mina’s room she was standing up with fat tears rolling down her cheeks as she bounced at the sight of you. Reaching down you checked her diaper as you sighed, completely full, no wonder she was practically screeching, you thought it was odd that she didn’t need a change before you took her to bed.

Picking her up you pressed a kiss against her forehead before laying her down to change her diaper. Throwing the old one away in the trashcan before pulling her nighty back down, “Poor baby, I know it was gross. But it’s all better now baby.” You bounced her on your hip. The problem was getting her to go back to sleep. She was practically stuck to you like a koala now and refusing to let go.

Swaying your body you nuzzled her gently as you soothingly rubbed her back, getting her to calm down a little after ten minutes, reluctantly she let you go as you set her back down in her crib, her big doe eyes- the same as Jungkooks- looking back up at you as she whined. Chuckling you picked her stuffed bear from the ground before giving it to her. As if indignant she snatched it before coddling it against her as you gave her one last forehead kiss, she’d be up again in two hours, she’d survive.

Gently closing the door to Jungkook's room you turned around as your lips parted before scoffing, “You couldn’t wait ten minutes?” You curved a brow, feeling somewhat amused at the tissues in Jungkook’s hand, looking a little guilty before trying to casually play it off as he shrugged. But you weren’t dumb, he didn’t have a boner anymore, there were tissues in his hand and there was not a bottle of lotion on the nightstand before you left this room.

“I’m not a patient guy,” Jungkook turned and tossed the tissue in the trashcan before turning around, looking a little more predatorily making you leer a little as you crawled back into bed, “Y’know…you never did answer my question…” You raised a brow at him before yelping as he suddenly lunged back onto the bed, crawling on top of you as you squirmed, “What makes you moan?” Jungkook eagerly asked as you began laughing beneath him trying to push him off of you.

“Jungkook!” “I need to know if I’m going to make you cum until you pass out!” “Jungkook!”

You both were laughing now as he nudged the crook of your neck with his nose, rubbing it roughly as he growled playfully against your neck, “Entertain me baby, you love to dodge my questions whenever we’re texting.” It was the truth, Jungkook was...inquisitive about everything revolving around what you liked sexually. Did you like it slow? Rough? Were there any kinks you were into, did you prefer it vanilla? He wanted to know everything. But more times then less you’d usually find a way to curve his questions leaving him frustrated and wondering.

You knew most of what Jungkook was into by now, you knew he enjoyed being in control and dominating, you knew he had a thing for doggystyle and really liked spanking, he liked all kinds of things and he had zero problems letting you know that, but he was just as in the dark about what you liked as when you first started dating.

It wasn’t that you were playing hard to get, you were just simply shy and embarrassed, you didn’t exactly have a lot of experience, and the few people you were with you didn’t exactly experiment a lot with either. Sex, just wasn’t something you were used to talking about. Sometimes you felt stupid because of how giddy you got when Jungkook would bring up sex, as if it wasn’t something you had engaged in before, but you couldn’t help it, he excited you so much, he may not have known it but he frustarted you more then you ever did him.

“Come on, it’s not like either of us are going back to sleep,” Jungkook nipped against your neck making you jump as you whined, “You know how fucking insane you drive me? I can’t even properly masturbate without thinking about if it’s something you’d be into?”

You couldn’t stop the snort escaping you as you began to laugh, “Be into you masturbating?” “That’s not what I meant!” “Because I’m cool with it, I mean I masturbate too.”

“You do?” Jungkook pulled away from you to look at you, his expression so serious it really was cute, but his words made you groan as you covered your face, “You masturbate? To me right? Please say me or else I’m gonna lose my shit.”

You threw your hands up as you scoffed, “Of course I masturbate! It’s normal and healthy, I do have a libido! You know women have needs just like men.” What kind of question was that? You knew you were coy but did this man, who you called your boyfriend for four months, seriously assumed you just never got yourself off? What!?

“Oh you do?” Jungkook smirked as he jabbed your stomach playfully making you whine, “Wait- you didn’t answer my question, do you watch porn? What about toys? I’m not opposed to-”

“Jungkook!” You would melt into this goddamn bed if it got you out of this conversation, you weren’t even sure what it was, you trusted Jungkook wholeheartedly, this was bound to happen and being open and communicative with your partner was a good thing to have when it came to sexual preferences.

“What?” Jungkook whined as he dragged out the word, “You’ve given me nothing to work with, how am I supposed to be able to satisfy you if I don’t know what you like? Are you asexual…?” His eyes widened as if realizing that was a possibility, suddenly clearing his throat as he looked a little nervous, “Because that’s totally cool…! I don’t mind and I didn’t mean to-”

“Jungkook,” You cut him off as you pressed your hands to your face, “No I’m not asexual...I’m just...embarrassed.” You refused to look at him now, feeling your face become hot again as you forced yourself to swallow, “I already told you I haven’t been with a lot of people and….If I don’t know what I like how am I supposed to tell you that?”

Jungkook’s fingers soothingly ran through your hair, his expression soft as you finally looked back up at him timidly, the pads of his fingers tenderly rubbing against your scalp as a small smile curved on his lips, “Is that really been what’s troubling you this whole time?” You felt even more embarrassed now, “Come on, c’mere.” Jungkook sat down on the bed, holding on his arms for you.

A little unsure at first you hesitantly scooted over, only to whine as he pulled you into his lap as he leaned against the headboard, “You could have just told me that,” He chuckled against your hair before pressing a kiss against it, you brooded a little as you curled against him making him laugh again, “But it’s not like you’re a virgin, who cares if you haven’t been with a lot of people, I’m sure there’s somethings you like.”

You knew he was coaxing you now, a little more gently, as if not wanting to invalidate you just because you hadn’t been with a lot of people, shuffling in his grip to get more comfortable you let your head rest against his chest, “Well…” You nibbled against your lip, a sudden urge to giggle at the feeling of him holding his breath in anticipation, “...I like being bossed around...and manhandled.”

There it was, that giddy, girlish smile you kept trying to fight off as Jungkook continued to comb through your hair with his fingers granted his smirk that pressed against your head didn’t surpass you, “Okay, so you like being thrown around huh?” The way he said those words so casually made you swallow as you squeezed your thighs together, “Guess it’s a good thing I like manhandling things, right?” He purred against your ear making whine as you rubbed your face, he was turning you on again.

“...You know I think it would just be easier if you asked questions…” You mumbled against his skin as you felt your face flare up, you were at a loss of what to continue with. You were sure on any other occasion you could think up multiple things to say, but being in Jungkook’s lap right now was really messing with your head.

But you also knew Jungkook would jump on that opportunity at the speed of light, “Slow or rough?” You almost snorted at how fast he began his questioning.

“Both, I don’t mind either.” You snickered a little at the way he seemed so excited all of a sudden, Jungkook may have been a sweetheart but he seemed to thrive on having an active sex life. This poor man was probably dying to get his hands on you, literally.

“Sub or switch?” It felt like you were playing twenty questions now but Jungkook’s odd short clipped questions made it feel like you could be talking about anything other then sex, maybe that’s why he chose to approach it like this.

Bashful you sighed as you rolled your eyes, pushing away from him as you gave him a look, a cheeky smile tugging on his lips as he raised his brows, already knowing the answer that wasn’t hard to guess, “What if I told you I was into pegging?” You asked incredulously.

“Then I’d say let’s buy a strap and lube.” Jungkook replied, placing a hand on his chest as you snorted, covering your mouth that twisted into a smile as you began laughing, Jungkook joining you as you shook your head. He was certainly dedicated to you and you could appreciate that.

“Petnames? What about title kinks?” Jungkook decided to drop the last question, given your answer both of you knew what it was going to be, he just really loved watching you squirm.

You couldn’t stop the giggle from escaping you as you covered your face, “Literally any petname, no title kinks.”

“What about positions?” Jungkook continued as he scooted a little closer, his eyes appeared a little dilated and lidded as he licked his lips, as if wanting a clear visual of your answer.

“Are you hoping I’ll say doggy?” You leered away a little, your eyes squinting into a playful glare and your lips threatening to twist into a smile once more.

Jungkook chuckled as he licked his lips again while leaning in, “Maybe, I still think you’d look out with your ass in my face and shoved against the bed being made to take it,” Your lips suddenly quivered and it was like your cunt was suddenly becoming flooded with arousal again, “You like that though, right? Getting pushed around,” A whine escaped you as Jungkook shoved you down against the bed, grabbing your arms that weakly attempted to push him as he pinned them above your head, “I think doggy would be perfect, I could play with that needy little clit while stuffing you full of cock, you wouldn’t even have to do anything baby,” Jungkook cooed as he sucked against your neck making you whine, your thighs were weak as your legs wrapped around his waist, “You could just lay there and whine like a good little girl and take it while I kept your hips up. What about a size kink? You like being told how little that fucking cunt would be taking my cock.”

Jungkook rubbed against you, his half hardened cock on display as if showing you. A whine escaped you again as you wiggled against him, his grip on your wrists tightening making your walls clench around nothing and arousal drip from your folds, “Definitely a size kink.” You whimpered pathetically making him laugh against your skin, suddenly letting go of you making you whine indignantly, was he really going to tease you like that and not doing anything about it?

Lovingly stroking your cheek with his hand he offered you a playful bunny smile, “Good news baby, we have plenty of time to explore.” He offered you a wink making you scowl as you looked away, rolling over so you wouldn’t have to face him anymore. How rude of him to work you up then leave you high and dry. A loud smack rang out and a yelp escaping you as his hand landed a blow on your exposed ass making you jump, “C’mon, lets go make breakfast.”

“Jeon Jungkook!”

Note: Blue Sping is coming to an end!! What a sweet journey! I know I said this lil mini series would only be four parts but with the way the scenes in the Oneshot went it’ll be better off as five! So that being said next weeks update will be the last! 🖤🖤🖤

#bts #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader smut #jungkook smut

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10-porgs-in-a-trenchcoat · 3 years

Text

Selfies, Tea, and Photography

AO3

Pairing: Commander Fox x GN!Reader Pen Pal Fic

Premise: based off this post I made a while back where I mused on the concept of a clone/reader insert pen pal fic. Starting off with Fox based on a suggestion by @istanmyman

Word count: ~3.9k

Rating: G

Other notes: Gender-neutral reader, no use of Y/N, apparently I can only write Thorn as Fox’s best bro and nosy wingman

When you heard the news that the Grand Army of the Republic was starting up a correspondence program for troopers and civilians to connect and communicate, you immediately signed up for it. Not that your friends and family weren’t enough for you, it was just that you itched to learn more about the galaxy and what it was like to live and travel among the stars. Enrolling in the program was the closest you were going to get until you were able to travel yourself.

(That, and you were curious to learn more about the clones who were fighting for the Republic.)

Around a month after signing up for the program, you learned you were matched with CC-1010, also known as “Fox.” A few days after learning about your match, you received your first message from him.

Hello,

I am Commander Fox of the Coruscant Guard. I am stationed on Coruscant, where I oversee the security of the Senate, manage operations at the military base on the planet, and coordinate with local authorities to maintain public safety. My fellow Guard Commanders and I are participating in this correspondence program to connect with Republic citizens we have sworn to protect and defend. I look forward to communicating with you.

Regards,

Commander Fox

His opening message was … something. It read like he didn’t want to be in the program, like his fellow Commanders may have forced him to do it with them. You also supposed he may have not known how else to introduce himself, and that was the best way he could think of to make a good first impression.

Regardless of the reason for his overly stiff and formal introduction, you wrote up your first message to Fox:

Hello Commander Fox, it’s nice to meet you!

I live on Naboo, in a small town in the lake country. I have a job in my grandmother’s tea shop. It’s not nearly as exciting as guarding Senators or catching bad guys, but it’s quiet and peaceful. I’m saving up to travel the galaxy one day, and until then the next best thing is talking with people like you who live in different places.

I do have some questions for you: what’s it like living on Coruscant? What do you do in your free time? Do you have any exciting stories about saving Senators from Separatists that you can share?

Hope to hear from you soon!

You signed with your name and sent the message.

A few days later, Fox sent his response. He greeted you by name in his opening line then went on to say:

Coruscant is loud, crowded, and messy. Feels like the planet never sleeps, with all the noise and lights at all hours of the day. My troopers and I live in barracks on the surface, and we don’t get much free time. Some of the boys like to go to this bar called 79’s that a lot of clones frequent. It’s not my favorite place, though. When I have free time, I like to relax with a good book, watch holodramas, or catch up on sleep. The work we do is important and a great service to the Republic, but a quiet peaceful life on Naboo with no excitement would be a welcome change of pace compared to my current station.

I haven’t rescued any Senators in the line of duty, but I did help Senator Amidala arrest Ziro the Hutt at the beginning of the war. I like Senator Amidala, she has a good head on her shoulders.

(She’s your Senator, isn’t she?)

I hope that’s what you were wanting to hear.

Looking forward to your response,

Commander Fox

You smiled to yourself as you read his message, and you imagined him in full armor laying back in a bed reading a book. Quiet, restful moments that you took for granted in your quiet life must have been sacred to a man like Fox.

The following day, you hiked out to the nearest lake to take pictures. You made sure to capture the lush green grass surrounding the lake, the colorful wildflowers growing along the shore, the sparkling crystal blue waters, and the majestic waterfalls that poured water into the lake. You made sure to include the pictures in the next message you wrote to Fox:

Senator Amidala is indeed from Naboo. She was our Queen too, back when I was younger. Everyone in my town loves her, and my grandma even has her royal portrait on display in the shop.

Not much has really happened since I last wrote to you. But I did go out and take some pictures of a nearby lake! The pictures are included with this message. I hope they can give you a small taste of my quiet life here.

Three weeks went by, and you hadn’t received a message from Fox. At first you figured he was busy with his duties. Then you worried that your pictures of the lake soured his mood, reminding him of something he couldn’t have. Then … you feared the worst.

One day after work, you went home and checked your message inbox on your computer. There was a message waiting for you from Fox. You breathed a sigh of relief as you opened it and read:

I’m sorry it took me so long to write you back. There was a bombing that took out the Senate’s power grid, and then a hostage crisis with bounty hunters, and then Ziro the Hutt escaped from prison. When I haven’t been scouring the city for Ziro or his accomplices, I have been neck-deep in paperwork.

Ironic, how right after I brag about helping bring Ziro into custody, he escapes.

I appreciate the pictures you sent me. Naboo looks like a beautiful planet. I would love to visit someday.

~ Fox

You took note of how he signed off with just his name, not his rank, and then you leaned back in your chair to mull over what to say to him. Your first idea was to invite him to visit Naboo once the war was over, but who knew when that would be. Unable to think of anything to say, you decided to come back to it later as you went about your evening.

The next day while you were at work, you served a customer some herbal tea that was supposed to have a relaxing effect. The customer didn’t stick around long enough for you to see if it worked, but you took a tin full of the loose-leaf tea home with you after your shift. You reviewed the rules of the correspondence program, confirming that it would be appropriate to send a package to Fox, and then you packaged the tea up and took it to the shipping depot to send to Coruscant.

Stars, shipping items to Coruscant was expensive. Fox better like that tea, you thought.

Hello Fox,

I don’t mind that you wrote late. I’m just glad that nothing happened to you.

That really is some rotten luck, Ziro escaping. I hope you or the Jedi catch him and take him back to prison. In the meantime, remember to rest and take care of yourself! Coruscant needs a great Commander like you looking out for it, and I like having you as my pen pal.

I sent you a package with some tea from the shop. It’s a relaxation blend. I haven’t tried it, but it’s popular with customers. It should arrive in the next rotation or two. Hope you like it.

Three days later you got his next message:

The tea is wonderful. I had a cup of it an hour before going to bed, and I had the best sleep of my life. Thank you.

~Fox

Short and sweet, but you couldn’t ask for more.

Over the following weeks you and Fox continued to exchange messages. The two of you discovered that you shared a common interest in a holodrama series and dedicated several messages to discussing it and predicting what might happen in the coming episodes. You sent him more pictures of the countryside and of your village, and he sent you pictures of the Coruscant skyline at sunset: the way the golden light of the sun glinted off the shining chrome towers was one of the most beautiful things you had ever seen, and it moved Coruscant up a few spots on your list of places to visit.

At one point you looked up pictures of the clones on the Holonet to get an idea of what Fox might look like. However, the only pictures of the troopers you could find showed them with their helmets on. The closest you could get was a ten-year-old picture of Jango Fett; Jango was ridiculously handsome, so it would stand to reason that Fox would be too.

Fox gradually began loosening up, and he shared stories about growing up on Kamino or shenanigans his brothers got into. He hinted at there being some interpersonal drama among some Senators, but he didn’t name names since he knew the supervisors of the correspondence program read his messages before sending them to you, to make sure he wasn’t divulging information he shouldn’t be.

Fox also asked you more questions about your life. You told him about your childhood, your relationship with your parents, how you got your job at your grandmother’s shop, about your friends that moved to Theed for work or university studies, and all the places in the galaxy you wanted to visit.

You mentioned wanting to see Felucia, and in his next message Fox included pictures of the planet’s colorful trees, plants, flowers, and shrubs – including a few at night, when the vegetation gave off a bioluminescent glow.

One of my fellow Commanders spends a lot of time doing missions on Felucia. I asked him for pictures to show you and he took these and sent them to me.

I’m trying to get him to join this correspondence program too, but he won’t agree to it. He spends a lot of time with his Jedi, maybe that’s enough for him.

I’ve had a lot of mixed feelings about not having a Jedi. I think about how some of them seem like a pain to work with and that it might not be worth the trouble, but then I see other Jedi treat the men under their command as friends or even family.

Which is why I’ve come to appreciate your messages. When I get them, they’re the highlight of my day. For a brief amount of time I feel like a normal person. I’ve never met you face-to-face, I don’t even know what you look like, but I consider you a friend.

~Fox

Getting pictures of Felucia from Fox made you feel all warm and fluttery inside. What he said about feeling like a normal person did as well, but it broke your heart at the same time. You wanted to stow away on a ship to Coruscant to give him a hug, and then go kick the behinds of anyone who ever made him feel bad about himself. Especially since he and his brothers worked so hard to keep people safe … it was a crime that they weren’t getting the recognition they deserved.

You snapped a picture of yourself to include in your next message, making sure the lighting and angle were just right so you looked your best. It also helped that you just happened to be wearing a color that you thought you looked good in.

Thank you for the pictures of Felucia! When I look at them it’s almost like I’m actually there. Please pass my gratitude along to your brother who took them.

I think of you as a friend too. I’m grateful to have you defending the Republic, and I’m glad to have you as my pen pal.

I don’t have much to offer you right now, other than a picture of me. At least now you can know what I look like.

You sent the message with the picture, leaned back in your chair, and watched the monitor of your computer. You knew that Fox wasn’t going to write back that same night, but you imagined him opening the message, reading your words, seeing your picture, and smiling the way his message made you smile.

Oh.

Oh no.

Were you developing a crush on him?

…

Then again, so what if you were? You didn’t have to tell him, you could hide it. He was parsecs away on another planet. And he was a clone; would he even be allowed to date if he wanted to? Nothing would or could come of it. If a crush was forming, with any luck it would go away on its own. But that didn’t stop you from double-checking how many credits you had in your savings and comparing that number to the cost for a ticket to Coruscant.

Four days went by during which you went about your usual business, often distracted by thoughts of Fox how his day might have been going. Maybe he was chasing Separatists or criminals around, or maybe he was buried under another mound of paperwork. You wondered if he caught the newest episode of the holodrama you both liked; you couldn’t wait to talk about it with him. That little crush you were sure would fade away wasn’t going anywhere, and it both delighted and frustrated you.

The first thing you did after you got home from your shift was check your messages. It had become routine at this point, especially since a new message from him easily became the highlight of your day. However, the message in your inbox – presumably from Fox – was not what you thought it would be:

Greetings, Fox’s Pen Pal!

I don’t know if you’ve noticed yet, but Fox has it BAD for you. I’ve been watching him write these messages to you and hemming and hawing around the barracks and his office making sure he gets every word just right. He’s got your pictures of the lakes and fields on Naboo framed on the wall of his office, he drank all that tea you sent him and he still keeps the tin on his desk right next to your selfie. And if you knew the amount of favors he had to cash in to get our brother Bly to get those pictures of Felucia for you! (it’s a lot, trust me)

Anyway, I thought you ought to know. I told him to make a move and be honest about his feelings but he’s shy. So even though I might be overstepping some boundaries, I feel like it’s my brotherly duty to intervene on his behalf. If there’s a chance you might feel the same way, you should tell him. If you don’t, proceed how you will but please go easy on him.

If it influences your decision-making process at all, I included a picture of him. He’s a good-looking guy if I do say so myself, although he’s not as handsome as me 😉

Yours truly,

Commander Thorn

PS – please don’t tell Fox that I wrote you using his account.

You sat at your computer, staring blankly at the words on the screen, taking minutes to process what you just read … and then you remembered there was a picture attached to the message, so you opened up the attachment.

Jango Fett may have been handsome, but Fox was gorgeous. He looked like he was in his early- or mid-twenties, although there were wisps of gray hair above his ears by his temples. His hair was cropped close along the sides and longer on top, and you took a minute to admire his curl pattern. He wasn’t smiling in the picture, his face wearing a more neutral resting expression that showed off the scar running along the corner of his mouth. Finally, you noticed his eyes: framed by dark circles, his irises were a deep, inviting shade of brown. What would it be like to look into his eyes in person, or run your hands through his hair, or trace his scar with your thumb before you went in to –

You stopped yourself. You were getting carried away. Heat rose up the back of your neck and across your cheeks.

For the rest of the evening you mulled over what to do next. You knew you wanted to tell him that you liked him too … but doing it over a message didn’t feel like enough. Turning up unannounced was a bad idea too. Would he even want you to show up in person? And since you didn’t have his contact information outside of the correspondence program, you didn’t have a way to call him for a face-to-face talk via holotransceiver.

Unsure of what to do, you fired off a message as soon as the fleeting idea for it popped into your brain. Would you regret it? Maybe. Only one way to find out.

Hi Fox,

I want to come visit you on Coruscant. When will you be free?

It only took a few minutes for him to respond, but it felt like hours. The entire time your heart pounded furiously in your chest, and you bounced your leg up and down since you could barely contain your jitters inside your body. There was a chance he would say no, Thorn did say he was shy after all. But when his message came through, you opened it immediately, and all the jitters melted away.

I see you got Thorn’s message … lucky for us he’ll be available to cover for me when I’m off-duty to host you. Let me know when you’re coming.

Your mouth instantly spread into a grin … you could hardly believe it. It hardly seemed real, even as you opened up a Holonet page to book a roundtrip ticket.

Four rotations later, your transport came into orbit around Coruscant. A shuttle took you from the transport down to the planet’s surface, and you were in awe of the densely-packed constellations of lights twinkling up from the planet’s surface. Descending into the atmosphere, those lights morphed into buildings, and lanes upon lanes of speeder traffic, and seemingly endless grids of buildings. At one point you saw several buildings whose architecture differed from the others; the pilot pointed them out and said they were the Senate Complex and the Jedi Temple, respectively.

You disembarked from the shuttle and paused to look around. Coruscant was nothing like Naboo. Not a speck of green in sight, no signs of nature, just duracrete and grays upon grays as far as the eye could see. And it was loud, just like Fox said it was, with the revving engines and blasting horns from speeders breezing by above your head.

You checked your wrist chrono, seeing that you had two hours until you were due to meet Fox at 79’s. Next, you pulled a datapad out of your bag that contained a map of the planet’s surface and studied how to get from your current position to the hotel you booked for your stay. The hotel was only a couple of blocks from the bar – not that you had certain expectations for this trip or anything, you thought it would be easier to stay nearby.

All in all, it took one hour and fifty minutes to get from the shuttle landing pad to the hotel to drop off your things, and then another eight to get from the hotel to 79’s. In your rush and panic as you navigated Coruscant’s taxi and public transportation systems, you didn’t have time to be too nervous about meeting Fox in person for the first time. But as you walked up to the entrance of the bar with its painfully bright neon signs and the muffled music spilling out from inside, it all hit you.

You took off to a strange planet by yourself to see a man you only knew through messages. If your grandmother had her way she would have stopped you from going. What if he didn’t like you after the trip … what if you didn’t like him? What if something went wrong?

But then you saw him standing by the entrance to the bar, recognizing him by his red-painted armor and the gray hairs above his ears and the thick curls on top of his head that you admired so much. He was surveying the area with a soldier’s laser-sharp focus, perhaps looking for your arrival, and he clutched a small bouquet of colorful flowers to his chest. When his eyes met yours, his face lit up with a smile, the most beautiful smile you had ever seen. Your worries seemed to matter less as you broke into a brisk jog to meet him.

“Fox?” you asked, smiling yourself.

“Indeed,” he responded before he handed the flowers to you. “I- uh- I got you these.”

“They’re beautiful, thank you,” you said. No one had ever gotten you flowers before; in the past it didn’t seem like anything to miss out on, but now that you held a bouquet in your arms, you felt special. Treasured, even.

“And, uh, as for the venue ….” Fox’s voice trailed off as he glanced over his shoulder at the bar’s garishly bright neon signs.

“I’m sure it’s fine,” you said, trying to be reassuring.

“I’m not allowed in most places, even when I’m off-duty … and I would have liked to take you somewhere nicer ….” He paused and rubbed the back of his neck. You could hear in his voice just how nervous he was.

“Because … well … you’re special to me. In a way no one else in my life is.”

You smiled at him again, and then wasted no time in leaning forward and pressing your lips to his cheek. It felt right to kiss him like that, but when you pulled back and saw him staring at you in shock and awe, you worried that it was too much too soon.

“C-can I …” he stammered. You nodded, and he angled his face so he could return the gesture. His lips were surprisingly soft against the skin of your cheek, and you couldn’t help but wonder what they would feel or taste like on your own lips.

There would be time for that later, you reminded yourself, if all went well.

“Does this place have food?” you ask him.

“Yes.”

“Drinks?”

“Well it is a bar … they have non-alcoholic drinks too, if that’s what you prefer.”

“Then it’s got everything I need. I don’t know what I would do with myself at a fancy restaurant anyway.”

“I imagine a restaurant would be quieter and allow for some proper conversation … but Thorn told me about a spot inside where we’ll be able to talk and hear each other without having to shout over the music.” Fox added.

“Sounds perfect,” you said with a smile.

Fox offered his arm to you and you took it, wrapping your hand around his bicep just above his elbow so he could lead you into the bar. Throughout the evening any time your eyes met his you felt safe, like you were the only person in the universe, and that you needed to figure out a way to make regular visits to Coruscant.

No matter what, you would always be glad you got Fox as a pen pal, and that you came to visit him. Especially since it was more fun to rant and rave about the newest episode of the holodrama in person.

#reader insert isn't my forte so I hope this is okay XD #commander fox #commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #clone trooper x reader #clone wars #star wars #my writing

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imagineabrighterworld · 3 years

Text

Shigaraki with an Enforcer S/O

Shigaraki didn't know you were at the meeting until you appeared behind him

Shigaraki needed more men after the failure at the U.S.J. It did bring the League into light, but without the criminals in his arsenal as most were taken into custody or deemed useless, he knew he had to start searching for a new crew. This led him to Corellia, an area full of thieves, black market traders, and mercenaries for hire. You were the enforcer of the biggest mafia in the area, and you made sure he knew that.

Crossing the alleged “safe zone” of Corellia and heading into the Black Light District, Shigaraki motions to the nomu’s on each side of him to take the lead. Kurogiri and another sleeker nomu would take spot behind him. While he was capable of protecting himself, he was taking no chances. He was his greatest pawn in this game, to lose himself and be captured would be detrimental to his whole system.

Moving further into the district, he notes the amounts of bordered up shops and graffiti covered walls, but this all changes when he reaches the center of the district. From there the shops are all open and bustling with customers, the scenery was not the same bleak grey and black concrete walls. It was lively and without the normal trash that coagulated on the streets. What made this area different than that of the one fifteen feet away?

With little else to do than gawk at the juxtaposition, Shigaraki heads down the alleyways of Corellia and enters the underbelly where the black market resided. It was at a shop that he found the leader of the Black Teeth, a gang notorious for drug manufacturing. They dealt with quirk enhancement and blockages, something Shigaraki took interest in after the nomu came to being. His best nomu was beaten by All Might, which meant he would need more than what his scientists were capable of in order to strengthen them.

The boss of the crew was lounging in his chair, the third eye on his forehead closed while his striking white eyes were staring directly at the nomu accompanying Shigaraki.

The man grins. “Their construction is magnificent. Who did you get your hands on to make these?” He sits up, elbows resting on his knees as he scans them up and down.

Shigaraki scoffs. “That is need to know information, and you do not need to know it.”

“Aye, it was a simple question.” The man leans back, his joking demeanor melting into something more serious. “So, Shigaraki Tomura. What can I do for you?”

Shigaraki takes a seat across from the man, knowing he was safe with his posse of nomu. “I need your numbers. You have men to spare. I require them.”

The man hissed through his teeth, an amused glint in his eyes. “You want my men. Mi amigo, are you sure you know what you're asking for?”

While Shigaraki didn't know what was said, he knew for certain what he wanted. What he needed. He wouldn't let the U.S.J. failure happen again. “I am more than certain.”

“Muy bien. I'll give you one of my crew. You'll find they're all you need. Incredibly loyal that one.”

“Only one?” Shigaraki grits his teeth. “Is that a joke?”

A hand lands itself on Shigaraki’s shoulder, causing him to jump slightly in his seat, already reaching to turn them into dust.

A barrier keeps him from touching you, the air seemingly hardening and turning golden at the force of his touch.

You give him a small smirk. “Hey jefe.”

You were either very smart, or incredibly dumb

You didn't bargain for power, or for riches, two things the League could most definitely provide. He found this strange, as everyone wanted something. No one ever gave anything for free. And with your skills, you could ask for anything in return, so why didn't you?

After finalizing a contract with your boss about new arrangements, you leave Corellia with the small group of League affiliates. Still, Shigaraki couldn't understand you, and it was bugging him to no end.

He slowed his pace until he was beside you, his hands clenched into fists as he remembers how you blocked him from using his quirk. “Why are you joining us?”

You examine the face of your new employer, or more of examine the hand covering his face. Your own face was scarred after battles and fights with the police and other gangs. Your body was covered in burns, stab wounds, and gunshots. You've been through the wringer yet still worked in the mafia with gusto. What fueled you? What led you to wanting to aid the league?

“Heroes and villains are white and black. I prefer grey.” You crack your fingers, watching the bones as they pop and settle back into place, relishing in the relief. “Your fighting will bring to light how corrupt some heroes are. It will usher in a better era. If the people work hard enough to make it.”

“You sound like a damn hero.”

“It's all about perspective mi amigo.”

You managed to enter his own little mafia after that display of your skills

There was no denying you had talent, he needed your abilities. You would make for a great asset to his newly forming team.

Two weeks into joining the league, you’ve already proven your worth. With your barrier quirk that could accumulate damage and send it right back at the attacker, you were a perfect tank in his array of assets.

In a meeting gone astray, you defended your new boss and led him to a safe zone away from the villains that wanted to usurp him as the new leader of the League.

At least, you believed it was a safe spot.

“Shigaraki!” You scream at him, spotting a hero ready to pummel him into the ground with their hammer quirk. Rushing to his side, you push him out of the way and put up a hasty shield, grunting as the force drives you into the ground. Breaking the shield, you watch as the hero is thrown back twice as hard, their back hitting a steel pillar above them.

“Get them out of here!” Your new boss yells at Kurogiri as he decays one of the hero’s sidekicks, not batting an eye at the ash covering him from head to toe. He proceeds further into the warehouse in search of the villain that ratted them out to the Hero Agency, but you refused to let him go in alone.

Kurogiri’s smoke appears below you, but using your barrier as a foothold, you launch yourself in the air and run after Shigaraki. “Pendejo!” You shout out, hoping to catch the attention of the blue haired male. “Use your head!”

The lights cut out, and all you could do is focus on the senses you still had.

Maybe it wasn't your smartest idea, but you raise your voice again.

“Shigaraki!”

You run to what you assume is the center of the room but slip on what feels like piles of sand.

The lights turn on, and in the corner of the room you find Shigaraki with a gash just under his chin, nearly catching him on his jugular.

He huffs, the hand that was normally covering his face no longer there, allowing you to see his annoyed yet soft expression. “I can handle myself too.”

An odd beat flutters in your chest.

“I know that idiota.”

You begin to grow on him /like a tumor/

He doesn't admit it, but after that incident, he begins to trust you more than he had before. You proved your loyalty, something he was inclined to ignore before. And you weren't afraid of his presence. The others in the league liked to have their own time away, they had separate goals and found the league as a place to enact them, but you didn't have that. So the fact that you stayed with him at the bar to just be there was quite nice.

You helped him with info gathering, and gathering in general

As his new enforcer with a knack of collecting data without being seen, you became extremely useful to him. And useful to the others as well.

“Oooh did you get the photos I asked for!” Toga chirps from her seat at the bar, spinning in a half circle as she watches you lift a heavy satchel and place it on the counter. The girl always had weird requests, but you caved in. She didn't ask for much anyway, not compared to what your old boss ordered you to do.

“Esperate chica, I have them.” You respond while pulling out a handful of polaroids. They were of several students of U.A., mostly of Izuku Midoriya, who you had yet to uncover why she was so obsessed with him. You pull your hand away just as she snatches them from your grip, remembering how she accidentally scratched you the last time you brought her photographs.

For Dabi you brought him information on Endeavor and his son, as you would see them occasionally on patrol. There wasn't much to tell, as the young boy didn't seem to like his father whatsoever. He rarely spoke, making him a poor source of info. But Dabi was sated either way.

“And what about for me?” Shigaraki hums from behind the counter, looking at you with carmine eyes. “You are my spider first and foremost. Don't forget it.”

With a grin from ear to ear, “I was thinking of you jefe.” You reach further into your satchel and pluck a collectable All Might action figure. “I thought you might like it.”

Needless to say, he decayed it right before storming off to his room.

But later that evening he opened his door to find a video game he had planned on buying.

With a small huff, he accepts the gift and returns to his nest.

You were his right hand alongside Kurogiri

Despite your rough beginning, you grew fond of your new boss. It was like having a friend, even if he could be somewhat of a man child, you learned how to deal with his moods. Which made Kurogiri’s life so much easier.

Shigaraki slams his hands on a table, turning it to dust. In fact, he was tossing everything out of his way, sending dust raining around the room. You stand at the door watching the sprays of ash like fireworks on New Year. It was always best to wait for his rage to ease before approaching him. This, you learned from Kurogiri.

But this time you needed him to calm down. You needed him to be a leader, not a temperamental child.

“Shigaraki.” You stand behind him, arms at your sides.

“How is it that he still gets all of the attention?! How, even after he retires, do we keep failing! One after another, our plans are turning into dust!” He slams a hand on another table, sending it crumbling to the ground.

“Shigaraki.” You repeat in a stern tone.

“What?!” His attention snaps to you, eyes crazed and bloodshot with rage.

“To win a battle is not to win a war.” You state calmly, keeping eye contact with the enraged leader. “Look at the bigger picture, and you will get the advantage you need.”

Something flickers in his eyes, giving you the shot of confidence you need in order to place a hand on his shoulder. He flinches at the contact but doesn't move from you.

“I believe in you cariño.”

He was incredibly antsy when Chisaki wanted you to join the yakuza, so you stepped up and said yes for him

Without knowing it, you had begun caring for the members of the League, something you weren't prepared for when you joined. At first it was just a side gig, a favor to your leader to work with the League. But now it wasn't just for your old boss or for the late Magne, it was for Shigaraki. You were doing this for him. Why? You didn't know. But you were caving for him.

“I’ll go.” You say from your spot beside him at the arm of the sofa. You were used to meetings like this. The yakuza wasn't much different from the mafia, they were like twins. That's how you knew it was better to give in than to argue anymore on the terms. Anymore nitpicking and the meeting would turn into a bloodbath mixed with ash.

Shigaraki doesn't look at you, and for that you were glad. To show weakness in front of these people would only give them a bigger advantage. Did Shigaraki like you? You didn't know. But neither did the Yakuza.

“Your underling has more sense than you do.” Chisaki croons from his spot across from Shigaraki. “They know when it's better to just back down. I like that.”

Shigaraki clenches his fist.

Chisaki looks you over, nodding once to himself before waving dismissively. “You'll need a mask if you are going to be here. I don't need you contaminating the air with your germs.”

You feel your eye twitch, but you give no more than a nod as you walk out of the room, bidding Shigaraki goodbye with a single look.

The next time you see him is the day you realize just how much you missed him

Bloody and sore from fighting with the yakuza underbosses in order to get out, you were happy to regroup with Toga and Twice. You were split up from them during your stint as a yakuza, you assumed it was because you were seen as a tier higher than them. Chisaki was smart enough not to let you plan with them behind his back, but he wasn't smart enough to realize the plans were already made even before the fated meeting.

“Shiggy!” Toga squeals from the back of the van as you all cruise on the empty highway with Chisaki strapped to the gurney. “I missed you guys so much! It was kinda fun being a yakuza! But they were so rude to us, weren't they Twice?”

“Yeah! They were dicks- The nicest people ever goddamnit! EW!”

You laugh at the two behind you, listening to them talk with Dabi, Spinner, and Mr. Compress about their little ‘vacation’.

“You're bleeding.”

Shigaraki’s voice drags you out of your thoughts.

“Hm?”

“You're bleeding.” He repeats in the same monotone voice.

Looking at your injuries you shrug and lay back deeper into the seat cushions. “I’m home, that's all that matters.”

Your leader huffs.

“I missed you cariño.”

“...”

You smile.

“Welcome back.”

#bnha #mha #bnha x reader #mha x reader #shigaraki tomura #shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura x reader #bnha shigaraki #bnha shigaraki x reader #mha shigaraki #mha shigaraki x reader #bnha villains #mha villains #reader is part latino because I love the language sorry #they would totally call him nicknames in Spanish just to confuse him #is pendejo a compliment??#he wouldn't know #and I like it that way

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dirtykpopsnaps · 3 years

Text

Parent-Teacher Conference — Johnny Suh

Warnings: None...other than cuteness and Johnny’s kid

Contains: Y/N the preschool teacher and single dad!Johnny

Requested: no

Words: 1, 763

———————————————————————

I hum lightly, unlocking the door to my apartment and walking inside. I set my bag down by the door and immediately head into the kitchen to begin heating up some leftovers from the other night. As much as I would like to cook something tonight, I know I can’t. I’m only able to be home for an hour or two before I need to be back at the daycare that I work for. Tonight we’re holding parent-teacher conferences, so I’ll be busy for a several hours.

Quickly, I pull some leftover pizza out of the fridge and put it on a plate before heating it up. For the hour and a half that I’m home, I slowly eat my food and just scroll through different apps on my phone. About half an hour before I need to be at the daycare, I grab my laptop and put it into my bag. You see, I tend to keep small notes on each child that is in my class. Little things that the parents might want to know. Calmly, I sling my bag over my shoulder and head out the door again, locking it behind me.

Heading out to my car, I climb inside and set my bag in the passenger seat. I turn the radio to the classic rock channel and start making my way back to Little Ducklings Daycare. The ride is pretty uneventful and I’m able to get to the daycare fairly easily. When I walk inside, a few of the teachers wave at me before going back to their activities. I walk up to my room, the 3’s room, and unlock the door before heading inside. Once the door is open, I take out my laptop and set it on the table. I place my bag in the little cubby for my things and sit down at the table to wait patiently.

Before long, the door opens and, one by one, parents and their children come streaming into the room. The parent-teacher conferences are set for about 30-45 minutes, so I’m able to have a one-on-one with the parents. Some parents bring their child along, but other’s don’t bring their child so that they can fully focus on the conference. For the most part, everything seems to be going fairly well. Most of the students are very well-behaved, so I don’t have many problems to relate to the parents. Although, there are smaller incidences that are typical for 3-year-olds.

Around 6:30, the second-to-last set of parents leave the room. I sigh softly, resting my head against my hand. Thankfully, I only have one more conference to get through. As much as I love teaching, it can be very tiresome to have conferences like this. They’re definitely not my favorite part of the job. Across the room, I hear the door open for the last time tonight. “Alright, little man, let’s go,” someone chuckles kindly. I sit up calmly, training my eyes on the door and the family coming inside. Seconds later, a little boy named Henry hurries inside, followed by a tall man.

Excitedly, Henry hurries inside the room and smiles adorably at me. “Hi, Ms. Y/N!” He says, waving animatedly at me.

“Well, hello, Henry!” I giggle, stepping out from behind the table to greet him. When I look up, I meet the eyes of the man that entered with him. I feel a little surprised that the person I see is not usually the person picking up Henry. However, I brush it off and stand up, shaking the person’s hand. “Good evening, sir. Are you Henry’s father?” I ask as kindly as possible. The man nods his head once, shooting me the exact same smile at his son.

“Please, call me Johnny,” he says.

When I let go of Johnny’s hand, we all sit down in our seats. Henry situates himself on the little chair that I have for children and smiles up at me. I giggle lightly before training my eyes back on his father. Looking into his eyes, I begin talking about how Henry has been acting at daycare. Henry is one of our newer students that joined only a few months ago, so I say as much as I can about him. He seems to be a very sweet and energetic child who is keen on learning. He’s almost always the first to ask questions and he plays with a lot of the children in the room. “Henry is also one of the students who loves having music on. He will ask us to play music and then sing and dance, which usually gets the other children to join in,” I relate, smiling happily.

About halfway through the conference, I ask Henry if he’d like to play with some toys in the room. Excitedly, he jumps out of his seat and runs over to the blocks. For a few seconds, both Johnny and I watch him before turning back to the conference. “There is one thing I would like to ask, though. You said you’re Henry’s father, correct?” I ask. Johnny nods his head lightly. “Then, who is the man who usually picks him up?” To be honest, I had assumed that man was his father. However, looking between Johnny and Henry, there’s no denying that they are father and son. Henry is almost a carbon copy of his father. Johnny chuckles lightly, a half smile playing at his lips.

“The person who usually picks him up is a driver for the company that I work for. To put it simply, my schedule doesn’t really allow for me to drop him off or pick him up. I’m usually already working by the time he shows up, and I’m still working when he leaves. Although, I try to spend as much time with him as I can after work,” Johnny explains softly. I nod my head lightly, adding this to my mental notes.

“Can I ask your job? If you’d rather not tell me, that’s alright. Just...curious,” I smile softly. Johnny chuckles again.

“No, no, it’s fine. I’m an idol,” he states calmly.

As soon as this statement leaves his lips, everything seems to make sense. Especially Henry’s love for music and dance. “An idol. That...does explain a lot,” I chuckle. Johnny shrugs his shoulders, smiling softly.

“Yeah, it’s...interesting. Henry loves sitting in on our practices, and the members of my group just adore him. That’s usually where he is before and after daycare, at practice with me.” Johnny flashes another sweet smile and I’m again reminded of how much his son looks like him.

“Just one more question,” I say calmly, “Does, Henry have a mother?” At this, Johnny’s smile drops and he sighs, shaking his head.

“Afraid not. His mother and I only had a short fling going on because, again, my schedule doesn’t always allow for full relationships. When we found out she was pregnant, she immediately said that she didn’t want the child. However, she was so against abortions that she couldn’t bring herself to do it. We came to an agreement that she would give birth to him, but I would take full custody. If she ever wanted to meet him or get to know him, all she had to do was ask me. She, um...she hasn’t talked to me since,” Johnny explains, rubbing at the back of his neck.

When Johnny finishes explaining, I look back at Henry again. He’s still playing happily with the blocks, building something very tall and stacking the blocks on top of each other. I turn back to Johnny, frowning slightly. “I’m very sorry to hear that, Johnny,” I say sympathetically. He sighs, shrugging his shoulders lightly.

“I do what I can. It’s not ideal, but she decided that she didn’t want to be in his life, so I can’t do anything about that. He asks about her sometimes and I don’t lie to him, but...I haven’t exactly told him *why* she isn’t around,” he explains. I nod my head lightly, smiling softly at him.

“Your secret is safe with me,” I say. Johnny flashes another bright smile, laughing lightly.

“Thank you very much.”

After this, I open the discussion to any questions that Johnny may have. Johnny shakes his head lightly, starting to stand up. “None that I can think of,” he hums. When Henry sees us standing up, he hurries back over, but Johnny stops him. “Aren’t you forgetting something?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at Henry. Henry stands there for a few seconds, before looking back at the collection blocks and flashing a sweet smile.

“Sowwy, daddy,” Henry giggles, running back over and starting to put the blocks away.

While Henry works, Johnny shoots me a glance. “Although...there is one question that I have,” he says, smiling to himself. I turn to him, smiling softly.

“Mhm?” I hum happily. Johnny looks me up and down, then looks into my eyes again.

“I know it’s just the first time I’ve met you, but Henry talks about you a lot. And, I know it’s very personal, but...are you single?” He asks. Immediately, I feel my face warm up and I giggle, tucking some hair behind my ear.

“Umm...yes. I am single,” I giggle, looking up at him again. Johnny smiles softly, nodding his head.

“Would you...like to meet up some time? Just to talk more about Henry, of course,” he jokes. I giggle again and nod my head lightly.

“I would like that, Johnny. Though...we could definitely talk about more than just Henry,” I remind him. He laughs lightly, another bright smile lighting up his face.

“Would...Friday be alright? I think I can get off work a little earlier and I could ask one of my members to watch Henry for a few hours,” Johnny suggests.

“It’s a date,” I giggle, nodding my head once.

When Henry’s done with putting away the blocks, he runs back over to us. Johnny kneels down and Henry jumps into his arms, giggling loudly. Johnny laughs with him and stands up to his full height again. “Well, it was nice to meet you, Ms. Y/N. Say ‘bye’, Hen,” Johnny chuckles. Henry smiles brightly and waves at me.

“Bye!” He says loudly. I giggle and wave goodbye at him. Just before Johnny leaves the room, he flashes me another bright smile.

“See you Friday,” he mouths before dropping a wink and leaving the room. Once they’re out of sight, I start giggling loudly and hide my face in my hands. Wow...that was not how I thought parent-teacher conferences would go.

#dirty kpop snaps #kpop fanfic #johnny suh #johnny seo #johnny x reader #johnny x y/n #nct johnny #nct #nct 127 #single dad Johnny

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suituuup · 3 years

Photo

pieces - chapter ten

Five years ago, Chloe dropped off the face of the Earth. Beca didn’t expect to see her again dancing in a strip club, out of all places.

rated: E (drug use and emotional abuse in early chapters)

ao3 link

The knock at the door made Chloe jolt.

Aubrey was here, and Chloe was a nervous wreck. Even if Aubrey had shown nothing but support in the texts they had exchanged over the last couple of months, Chloe was bracing herself for judgment. It had become her default setting over the last couple of years, to always expect people to think the worst of her.

It turned out Aubrey couldn’t make it for dinner that weekend and instead offered lunch on the following Monday, so Beca was currently at work. Meeting her alone made Chloe even more nervous; Beca had become her rock, her lifeline over the past couple of months, and someone Chloe actually trusted, and she would have been more comfortable with her being present.

She wiped her hands on her apron and padded to the door, sucking in one last deep breath before pulling it open. Her friend looked the same as Chloe remembered her, except for her hairstyle, which evolved into a neat bob and matched the lawyer persona well.

“Hey Chlo,” Aubrey greeted softly, eyes soft and smile shy.

“Hi,” Chloe breathed out when she remembered she should say something, blinking.

Before Chloe could step aside, Aubrey stepped forward and pulled Chloe into a loose hug. Chloe’s first reaction was to tense for a brief moment, eventually wrapping her arms around Aubrey’s back, in turn, her shoulders relaxing as she exhaled.

“Thanks for having me over,” Aubrey said as she backed away.

Chloe nodded with a small smile and took a step back to let Aubrey through. “Come on in. I uh-- I made chicken pasta. Do you still like that?”

Cooking had been one of the activities Chloe had rekindled with since finishing rehab. Following a recipe was a good distraction from her cravings.

“I do. Sounds yummy.”

“You-- you’ve been here before, I imagine?” Chloe asked as she shut and locked the door behind them, leading Aubrey to the main room.

Aubrey shrugged off her jacket. “A few times, yes. I think the last time was for Beca’s birthday last September.”

Chloe nodded once more, then remembered her manners. “Can I offer you anything to drink?” She asked as she padded to the fridge. “We have water, flat or sparkling, coke and fanta.”

“Sparkling water is good,” Aubrey said as she perched herself on a stool, resting her chin over her propped-up hand. “How’s it been living with Beca?”

“Good,” Chloe replied as she reached for two water glasses in the cupboards, the water bottle in her other hand. “She’s been really amazing with trying to make me feel at home. It’s weird though because I can’t pay rent or groceries. I still feel like I’m taking advantage of her generosity.”

Aubrey hummed. “I get that. But you’re not. Beca wouldn’t offer all those things if she felt like you were taking advantage. And we all know you’re not. You’re getting back on your feet and could use all the help you can get, which I’m sure Beca is happy to give.”

Chloe took a deep breath and nodded. She uncapped the bottle and poured some water into both drinks.

“How have you been feeling otherwise?” Aubrey questioned then.

Chloe shrugged, breaking eye-contact. “It’s been a real rollercoaster, to be honest. Somedays I feel fine, other days it feels like I’m drowning. If it weren’t for Beca’s support or--” The baby, which she had yet to tell Aubrey about. She swallowed, forcing herself to meet her friend’s gaze. “A few days before the end of rehab, I found out that I was pregnant.”

Aubrey blinked twice in slow succession, much like Beca had done. “You are? I mean--”

“I’m keeping it,” Chloe cleared up before Aubrey could attempt to reword her question. “I know it probably sounds crazy and irresponsible given my situation and who the father is, I--”

“I think you’re going to make an amazing mom, Chlo,” Aubrey murmured before Chloe could finish. “And yes, your situation is tricky right now, but it won’t forever be that way. And the father might be a dick whose balls should be fed to wolves, but you and I both know that a baby sharing your genes can’t be evil.” She tilted her head to the side. “Are you going to tell him?”

Chloe froze. She hadn’t dared broach the subject with her therapist for fear of her telling a judge, and she didn’t know what she was allowed or not allowed to do. “Do I… have to? I mean, legally?”

Aubrey shook her head. “No, you don’t have any obligations to. The father’s name on the birth certificate can be left blank, and that means Marco will have no rights over the child.”

Chloe nibbled on her bottom lip as she processed that information. “What if he finds out? Can he get custody?”

“He’ll have to submit a petition to the court through a lawyer in order to have a DNA test done,” Aubrey explained. “After that, a judge decides if he has the right to have custody, but I really don’t see how he could, given his track record. I had a friend at the precinct look him up, and he’s been convicted several times for drug dealing and violence.”

Relief swept over Chloe upon hearing that. The thought of Marco having any influence on that child gave her nightmares. “Okay. Good.” She cleared her throat when her brain caught up with the rest of Aubrey’s sentence. “I didn’t know he was a criminal.” But she wasn’t surprised, now. “I wouldn’t have-- he was really good to me at the beginning, and by the time his true personality surfaced, I had nowhere to go.”

“He was toxic,” Aubrey said as she nodded. “A manipulator. He probably loved the hell out of you at first, bombarded you with sweet messages and calls and flattery? And little by little, the connection faded and you started to feel meaningless? Unworthy?”

Chloe could only nod faintly, because Aubrey had just put into words what her relationship with Marco felt like, without Chloe telling her any of that stuff.

“I come across so many people with the same profile in my job, and the victims, men or women, always blame themselves. But they shouldn’t. You shouldn’t.”

Her therapist had already told Chloe that many times, but Chloe’s default thinking made it hard to grasp that. Being with Marco felt like chaos reigned in her head, her emotions, her body, her life, and he found a way to make her believe it was her own fault.

Chloe mustered a soft smile, feeling more than ready to stop talking about that for now. “Should we eat?”

The conversation thankfully transitioned to easier subjects. Chloe caught up on the last six years of Aubrey’s life, feeling a little lighter and more at ease around her friend now that it was clear Aubrey held no grudge or judgment towards Chloe for cutting her out of her life. They found themselves reminiscing about their college days, two hours zipping by without Chloe once thinking about her cravings.

“I’m just a call away, alright?” Aubrey said as she slid her jacket back on. “And if you ever want to come to Boston for a weekend, I have two guest bedrooms.”

A genuine smile spread across Chloe’s lips as she nodded. “I’d love that.” Chloe was the one to initiate the hug this time, letting it linger. “Thank you for coming down, Bree.”

Aubrey smiled back. “It was my pleasure. See you soon, Chloe.”

Bean’s thirteen-week-check-up took place the following day. Chloe was set on having as many tests done as possible at this stage, with an NT scan to help assess the baby’s risk of having complications such as Down syndrome, other chromosomal abnormalities, and major congenital heart problems, as well as full blood work to rule out cystic fibrosis and Tay-Sachs.

Bean passed their scan with flying colors, much to her relief. The heartbeat was strong, and

Bean’s features were unmistakably human this time around; Chloe could make out Bean’s head and their nose and the round belly and tiny feet.

She went home with three pictures, and Beca insisted one should go up on the fridge.

The following month was punctuated with more therapy, NA meetings, and the visit to Oregon. Chloe felt more at home in Beca’s apartment with each passing day, though she tried her best to stay out of the way whenever Sarah was over.

On the day of their departure, Chloe was beyond grateful Beca agreed to come with her, as telling her parents the truth felt incredibly daunting.

They landed in Portland a little after four that Thursday, renting a car to drive the two hours to Newport, where Chloe’s childhood home was located. As Beca parked the car in her parents’ driveway, Chloe was rooted to her seat with nerves.

Beca’s hand on her leg snapped her out of it. “Hey.” Chloe turned her head to the left, meeting Beca’s soft eyes. “Breathe. In and out.”

Nodding, Chloe inhaled deeply through her nose and released the air through her mouth, closing her eyes. She reached for the door handle next and stepped out, swallowing thickly as she let her leaned legs carry her to the front door. She pressed the doorbell and stepped back, instinctively reaching for Beca’s hand.

Her mom appeared on the other side a handful of seconds later, and she engulfed Chloe into a hug before Chloe could even utter anything.

“Hi mom,” she croaked out, her eyes fluttering shut as she released Beca’s hand to hug her back tightly, basking into the instant comfort being in her mom’s arms brought her.

Alice pulled away but kept Chloe at arms’ length, her gaze sweeping over her features. “It’s so good to see you, baby.” Her focus shifted to Beca, and she embraced her next, keeping it a bit shorter. They had met each other before when her parents flew to Atlanta for Chloe’s graduation. “Welcome to our home, Beca.”

“Thanks, Mrs. Beale.”

Chloe’s mom glared playfully, tutting. “It’s Alice to you. Come on inside.”

They stepped into the house, a smell Chloe knew well drifting from the kitchen: her dad’s famous lasagna, Chloe’s favorite.

“Hey Chlobear,” her dad greeted as soon as they rounded the corner, smile bright and eyes sparkling as he sat in his electric wheelchair by the couch.

Tears pricked behind Chloe’s eyes, and she crossed the distance between them, bending down to hug him. His working arm drifted up to snake around her back. “Hi, Dad,” she whispered, emotions trapping her voice in her throat. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“Me too, sweetheart,” he murmured, his own voice wavering. “I made your favorite. Well, your mom made your favorite under my supervision, ‘cause she would have messed it up otherwise.”

“Hey,” Chloe’s mom objected, drawing a chuckle from both Chloe and her dad.

Chloe straightened, hitching her thumb over her shoulder. “You remember Beca, right?”

“Of course I do,” Mike confirmed as he made his chair go forward, then extended his hand. “How are you, Beca?”

“Hello Mr. Beale,” Beca greeted, shaking his head. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You, too. And it’s Mike. No Mr. Beale around this house.”

Beca laughed, nodding. “Got it, Mike.”

“I hope you guys are hungry, we’ve made enough food to last us until next month,” Mike commented as he moved towards the table.

After freshening up, she and Beca sat at the table just as Alice pulled the lasagna out from the oven, then grabbed the salad and the wine bottle from the counter.

“Wine, Beca?” She asked, holding up the bottle.

“I’m good, thanks, though.”

Chloe glanced at her. “You can have some if you want.”

Beca shook her head, smiling softly as she unfolded her napkin and draped it across her lap. “I’m okay, I promise. Water’s fine.”

Chloe caught her parents sharing a confused look over the exchange, and she cleared her throat, knowing it was probably best to get this over with. “Mom, you should probably sit down.”

Concern creased a frown on Alice’s forehead as she set the bottle down and lowered herself next to Chloe’s dad. “What’s going on, Chloe?”

Chloe took a deep breath, and she felt Beca’s hand cover her own under the table. She flipped hers over and wrapped her fingers around Beca’s, grateful for the grounding contact. “I um--” she swallowed, unable to figure out where to start even though she had practiced her speech countless times leading up to their visit.

Shame and guilt rushed through her, digging their claws into her heart and lungs, making it harder to breathe.

“Chloe,” her mother’s voice pierced through the buzzing in Chloe’s ears. Chloe looked up from her plate, finding soft eyes. “Whatever it is, you can tell us.”

Chloe closed her eyes and sucked in a sharp breath, forcing herself to own up to her situation by looking at her parents while she spoke. “I have a drug problem. Had. I’m--I’m in recovery. I got out of rehab a couple of months ago.”

A heavy silence settled over the room as Mike and Alice processed the news. Chloe felt like bolting out of the house as she watched her dad swallow thickly, and her mom’s jaw-dropping. She felt a squeeze to her hand and remembered to breathe.

“Oh Chloe,” her mom whispered and got up to sit in the vacant chair on the other side of Chloe, taking her other hand as she tilted her head to the side. “How long have you been struggling?”

Chloe cleared her throat. “About five years. I never-- I never graduated from vet school. I dropped out.”

Her father frowned, his mouth moving wordlessly for a few beats. “But-- the money you gave us for my treatment every month?”

“I was a stripper,” Chloe admitted quietly. “That’s how I got introduced to cocaine. How I met Marco. How I... made so much money.” She was hit by an array of emotions -- shame, fear, and somehow, relief -- right then, and a sob burst out from her throat before she could reign it in. “I’m s-sorry I lied to you for so long.” She released Beca’s hand to cover her mouth, her body shaking as she crumbled under the weight of her feelings.

She didn’t fight it when her mom pulled her into her arms, rubbing her back in slow circles and whispering reassuring words into her ear. “It’s okay, sweetie. Breathe. We love you. No matter what.”

It took a few minutes for Chloe to be able to get her breathing under control, straightening when she did and taking the tissue Beca offered her.

“You must have a lot of questions,” she murmured, licking her dry lips. She still had the baby bomb to drop, but one thing at a time. Thankfully she wasn’t showing that much yet, and her large hoodie kept her small bump concealed.

“Thank you for telling us,” her father murmured, and Chloe saw him wipe a tear away when she looked up. “I can’t imagine how hard that must be, as for deciding to seek help.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t do it before. I was ashamed and lost and--” she shrugged. “I wasn’t myself.”

“How are you feeling now?” Her mom asked softly, pushing Chloe’s hair behind her ear. “You said it’s been two months since rehab?”

Chloe nodded, sniffling. “Ups and downs. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for Beca. She’s the one who encouraged me to get help, who paid for rehab, continued paying for your treatment, and I’ve been staying at her place while I get back on my feet.”

Both her parents’ focus shifted to Beca, gratitude swirling in their eyes.

“She’s been incredibly strong and responsible,” Beca said, smiling softly. “Hasn’t missed a therapy session or NA meeting since getting out of rehab.”

“And this Marco…” her dad trailed off in a questioning tone.

“He’s out of my life. He wasn’t a good person, but I failed to realize that.”

“More like he hid it well,” Beca corrected gently. Chloe met her eyes. “Remember what Aubrey and your therapist said about how you didn’t have to blame yourself for that?”

Chloe nodded. “Right.”

“Did he… hurt you?” Mike asked next, a tremor in his voice as he seemed to brace himself for the answer.

“Not physically.” It wasn’t exactly the truth, but Chloe didn’t think that slap was worth mentioning. “Just… emotionally. He knew how to get into my head, and the drugs didn’t help. They have this funny way of having you believe whatever it wants you to. Logic and reason no longer existed for me when I was at my lowest. I was ashamed of lying to you every time we spoke on the phone, but the paranoia over you not wanting to talk to me again if I told you was stronger.”

She was sure her dad had a lot more questions and probably wondered if his treatment and their financial problems pushed Chloe into taking that job, but he remained silent, clearly mulling everything over.

“We could tell you looked tired every time we called, but we never…” Alice trailed off, shaking her head as a few tears rolled down her cheeks when she blinked. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” Chloe croaked out, having feared this: her parents blaming themselves. Her heart felt incredibly heavy as she sandwiched her mom’s hand between her own, glancing at her dad briefly. “I don’t want you guys to feel guilty and think that you should have noticed. I hid it well, especially the first few years. Then it sort of derailed, that’s why I stopped visiting. Please don’t apologize.”

“Did you take that job because you felt like you had to help us?” Her dad asked, just as Chloe had predicted. “With my treatment?”

Chloe took a deep breath. “I took it because NYC was expensive and I was struggling a bit with rent. And when your health worsened, I asked for more shifts to help out.” She didn’t want to get into what she was asked to do for more money. She couldn’t. Her dad would be eaten away by guilt if he knew how much of a toll working in the VIP room took on her. The whole truth would hurt him more than a small lie. “It’s when I started doing drugs that everything fell apart. It’s not on you, dad. I promise.”

Mike swallowed and ran his hand over his face as he visibly tried to keep a hold on his emotions. “You’re my daughter, you shouldn’t have had to provide for me, or to put yourself first.”

“Dad, please,” Chloe whispered, feeling her throat shrinking. “I wanted to help. I just… made bad choices and met the wrong people. It’s not your fault.” Her eyes found her dad’s. “Please tell me you believe that?”

Her father remained silent for a stretch as he stared at her. He eventually offered a faint nod, but Chloe wasn’t sure if he was being honest.

Her mom reached up to wipe her tears away, sniffling. “What… what can we do to help you through your recovery?”

“Being part of my support system, like you unknowingly have since I got out of rehab,” Chloe murmured with a small smile. “And dealing with more of my visits,” she added, knowing they would both be all for that.

“You are always welcome to move back here, Chlo. For as long as you want,” she offered.

“I…” she cleared the rising lump in her throat as she briefly glanced down to her lap. “There’s something else that I need to tell you.” Another deep breath. “I’m four months pregnant. With Marco’s baby. But he’s not going to be involved. I’m going to raise them on my own.”

There. Everything she was ready to share was out there in the open, and Chloe felt incredibly lighter, despite her heartbeat picking up as her parents once again fell silent. She really couldn’t blame them, after everything she had just dumped on them.

“I know it’s a lot,” she added, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “And I know my decision to keep it might come across as strange, but I couldn’t get rid of it, and this baby is giving my life purpose again because I want to be a better person for them.”

“I think you are incredibly brave,” Alice said after a little while, reaching out to catch a tear falling on Chloe’s cheek with the side of her pointer finger. “And I’m failing to find words to express how proud of you I am.”

Chloe sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand as her gaze met her dad’s once more. She could tell he needed more time to work through everything, and maybe they could talk about it some more the next day, once he had slept over it.

“That kid is going to be the most spoiled grandchild of all Newport,” he joked with a soft smile, his words loosening the nerves in Chloe’s stomach.

Chloe released a watery giggle. “I love you guys.”

“We love you, too, Chlobear,” her dad murmured, and after embracing her mom tightly, Chloe stood up and rounded the table to hug her dad.

They eventually dug into dinner, the conversation shifting to the baby, whether it was okay, what the risks there were, when was her due date... Her parents offered to turn the office into a nursery if Chloe wanted to move back in with them, to which Chloe answered that she would think about it. She had been concerned about how much the pregnancy and having a newborn baby around would affect Beca’s life and her relationship with Sarah, and this would be another alternative to which Chloe needed to give some serious thought.

Chloe and Beca headed upstairs shortly after dinner, both feeling exhausted as their mind and body were three hours ahead. After showing Beca to the guest room, Chloe changed into her pajamas and washed up for bed, knocking on Beca’s door on her way back to her own bedroom.

She pushed it open upon hearing a soft come in, finding Beca lying on top of the comforter, already changed in her sleeping wear.

“You okay?” She asked, smiling as Chloe sat down on the edge of the mattress. “That went pretty well.”

“Yeah, I…” she swallowed, shaking her head in leftover awe. “I have amazing parents. I didn’t think they would be so understanding.”

“Of course they’re amazing. They raised you.”

Chloe bowed her head as blush bloomed in her cheeks. She cleared her throat. “I think my dad is a bit shaken up and part of him feels to blame, but I’m hoping he and I can talk some more tomorrow.”

Beca nodded. “Yeah. I think that’s a good idea.”

Chloe let out a small sigh, and she reached out to squeeze Beca’s hand. “Thanks again for coming here with me.”

“Not a problem. I’m hoping you’ll show me around the town at some point, take me to your favorite spots.”

“We can definitely do that tomorrow,” Chloe agreed, her smile genuine. “Goodnight, Bec.”

“Night Chloe. Night Bean.”

#bechloe #beca mitchell #chloe beale #pieces

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artxyra · 4 years

Note

So I had this idea and I was wondering if you would write it. So damian has lived with his dad for a couple of years, he is 15/16 and his brothers have been nagging him about going on a date like a normal teenager for months now, and then one day he just snaps and screams at them " don't you get it I'm already betrothed!" His brothers are confused but try to help " I'm sure we can find a loophole and get you out of it!" "No. If the betrothal is broken the league will kill her."enter marinette.

Note: Well this story sounded better in my head, but it took forever to type up. I hope you enjoy it.

Damian couldn’t remember a time when his brothers didn’t make an attempt at his love life. Every other month (sometimes weeks) it was attempt after attempt. He hated it. At first, he humored his brothers, but that humor quickly turned to the opposite emotion. Though Damian’s biggest secret thought that it was hilarious, and it was.

Damian remembers their first attempt, he was only fourteen, been in the Waynes’ custody for almost four years. He remembers being tugged into a bathroom and then forces to wear silly fancy clothes. His brothers should have been lucky that he didn’t have his weapons on him. To them, it was to gain the high school boy experience since Damian refused to do any of the sorts. Shouldn’t they just happy that he has one friend at the very least? Nope, they really wanted Damian to have a sense of normality.

“Baby bird, every teen goes on a date. Please just do this for us.” It was Dick that had started the persuasion. Damian had only tsk and fold his arms against his chest. He was already fed up with all the bullshit spewing from the older adopted Wayne’s mouth.

“Why should I even do this? I barely know the har—girl and—” Damian begins to scowl as Dick interrupts him by tossing a vest for him to wear. He mentally gags at the texture of the vest. Damian had scene better quality, not that he’ll tell where.

“We promise it will be worth it.” It was Tim that adds to the conversation as Jason was to busy cleaning up his knife in broad daylight.

It wasn’t long after that was the date with a Gotham native. She wasn’t up to his standards; it was clear that she didn’t want to be with him for him. To this day he suspects that she only agreed because of the money. Damian tried everything to make the date super uncomfortable for the girl even going so far as to make up an explicitly detailed gory story. She left cursing his brothers, mainly Dick, out at the end of their date.

Damian had thought that would be the one and only time that would happen…he had forgotten the stubbornness that runs in the family. Failing was not an option as this continues for another four years.

“I’m sure it was a fun date.” A female’s voice says from the screen of his laptop, that was place on his dresser as he does shadow movements with his katana.

“It was tiresome, Angel, and quite frankly I’m getting sick of it.” Damian lowers the blade to his side and turns to face the screen. On the screen is a lovely female, around his age with long dark hair that drapes over her shoulders. She lets out a giggle.

“I’m sure they have the best intentions, besides it’s not like they know I exist, anyway.” She says rolling her eyes.

“Angel, I love you, but not even you can last an evening with the dates they have set up over and over again.” Damian sighs putting up the katana. He then picks up the laptop and goes to lie on his bed.

“Well, I’m sure it will all be fine. Besides, I have a surprise for you that is coming soon. Just hold out until then. Okay?” She says with a bright as a loud sound goes off in the background. Damian sighs and nods before ending the video call. He hates keeping her a secret, but it was the right thing to do.

It was a week later when his brothers came to him with another blind date proposal signally the tenth time that has happened in a span of a month. Everyone could see the growing frustration in the young Wayne heir. With the mention of dates, couples, restaurant, manhood, romance, it would set Damian off, although he was quick to calm down with a message from an Angel.

“Look Demon spawn, she is literally perfect for you.” It was an excuse, something for him to look forward to. No one is perfect.

“C’mon baby bird, she could be the one.” Another excuse. There was only one girl that was the one and she’s several hundred thousand miles away.

“Go, it all fancy and shit, also the NDA.” Ugh, this was becoming numbing. Damian could only wish to slide his fine blade across all their necks. Also, why the hell would Jason even mention an NDA to him in the first place?

“What is this? Another blind date for the young master?” Thank god for Alfred.

“Alfred, we promise this will be the last time.” That’s a lie and he knows it.

Damian could feel the growing headache forming at the back of his mind. Dick’s moving too fast, Tim’s giving him all the details about his so-called date, and well Jason is just being Jason.

“Enough!” Damian finally breaks. “The reason why I don’t like going on these so-called blind dates is because I’m betrothed to someone.” The word betrothed rings through the heads of his family members.

“Wha~!” Simultaneously, the older Waynes’ minds break.

“Is there any way you can break it off? A loophole even? How are you betrothed?” Shouldn’t that had been asked backward? They could all see the steam oozing out of Damian’s ears.

Crossing his arms and turning his back to his brothers, Damian looks down. “No, not unless you want a death on your hands. The only way to end a betrothal is to kill the other, that has always been the League’s away of things.” The second the last word left his lips, Damian walks away; he needs to talk with his Angel.

Still in shock, everyone turns to one another.

“How could we have missed that?” Tim screeches before taking a sip from his mug despite the shaking in his hand.

Dick was unsure what to say, think, or do. It’s not every day you learn the brother you’ve been setting up is engaged. An engagement that they could not break.

“I’m more worried who the brat is engaged too?” Jason murmurs then proceed to clean out his gun. His brothers stare at him with wide eyes unsure what to say to the second oldest.

For the next week after that bomb drop, his brothers continue to pester him about his betrothal, they even managed to include Bruce in the conversation a couple of times. If it wasn’t for Alfred, Damian knows that the pestering would have left someone in the hospital.

On a rare sunny day in Gotham, Damian had taken Titus out for a walk. It was clear his mind and to get away for the time being. Finding a nice park bench to sit on, he pulls out a small sketchpad and begins to sketch. Titus runs around enjoying the outdoors.

“Is this spot taken?” The voice sounded so familiar. He grunts ever once looking up the person afraid that he had misheard the voice. “Oh, c’mon Dams, I thought you would be happy to see me.” It was then that he looks up. In shock, he pushes the sketchpad to the side and pulls the person in front of him into his arms.

“I miss you.” He murmurs into her dark hair. “But how?”

“I managed to win the Martha Wayne scholarship, and then your butler Alfred got into contact with me about visiting.” She says looking up to Damian, though she was mainly seeing his chin due to their height difference. “You’ve grown.” She then pouts.

Damian lets out a soft chuckle, hoping that no one outside of his Angel heard him. His Angel places her head against his chest and together they stayed like that until Titus decided that he was some attention.

“Awe, he’s so cute.” She says petting the Great Dane.

Damian was internally happy to have her by his side for the first time in years. She’s the one that is perfect for him and it’s not because she was molded to be, but because she knows him inside and out.

When Damian, Titus, and his Angel returned to the manor, it is Alfred that they see first.

“Welcome home, young master, and Miss Dupain-Cheng.” Alfred greets the teen.

“Alfred, please call me Marinette, my last name can be a mouth full,” Marinette says giving the butler a smile. Alfred nods and proceeds to guide them to the living room. “So, this is the Wayne manor, those photos you send me Dams does this no justice.”

Damian once again chuckles knowing she’ll be in a heavily inspired by the architecture which will then cause her to go dark until she finishes whatever project came out of the inspiration.

“Angel, how about I give you a proper tour of the manor?” He offers to which she gladly takes.

Marinette had been staying at the Wayne manor for a couple of days before Damian brothers make their grand entrance. Without catching sight of the girl, they make their way to the youngest Wayne hoping to get some answers about his betrothal.

“Um, you can ask me if you want,” Marinette says from behind the boys causing an outcry of emotions.

“What you’re real?” It was Tim rubbing his eyes that speaks first.

Marinette awkwardly nods, “And you need sleep. I have a special brew that can knock anyone out within seconds.” She says to Tim before turning to the others. “I’m Marinette, nice to meet you.”

Dick and Jason stare at the girl lost for words. Dick was internally gushing about her size and how cute she is compared to Damian while Jason struggles to comprehend the person in front of him.

Marinette closes the gap between her and Jason. She looks over the second oldest and smiles sadly. “You have so much darkness around you. The same that used to be around Dams. I could help you if you want.” She says taking the male’s hand.

Jason was lost for words. This person was willing to help him. He wasn’t sure how to feel but the light flowing off of this tiny person was overpowering.

“That’s it you’re my new favorite sibling. I will protect you with my life.” Dick cries out starting the competition of who’s Marinette’s favorite brother-in-law.

Not surprisingly enough, Marinette warmed her way into the Wayne family. She even bonded with Steph, Cass, and Barbara whenever the girls came over for a girls-only day. Damian quickly was reminded why he didn’t want his family to know about her, seeing that he barely has time with her as his siblings take all the time away. Though it has it’s benefits. He can now visit Marinette in France without needing to sneak away and she could come to visit the manor whenever she wants.

Damian knew the moment he said “I do”, she’ll be his forever in life and in death just like he’ll be hers forever.

Tag List: *View my Tagging System guidelines for how to to be properly tagged or removed.

#daminette #maribat #ml x dc #damimari #mlb x dc #ml crossover #dc crossover #marinette x damian

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c4pricornc4ts · 3 years

Text

Where'd the Hours go? - Chapter 3 Dadschlatt College Au

Read it on ao3 here or on my wattpad here!

Other Chapters: 1 ✧ 2 ✧

WARNINGS FOR: Implied Child Neglect, Smoking, Swearing

The toddler was dressed in an oversized green button down that- from the looks of it, was buttoned by the boy himself given that it's uneven. Everything looks so big on him and his hair is a mess. There's a red pacifier in his mouth and he's looking at Schlatt with wide brown eyes.

He's handed a black garbage bag. "What- why did you bring up trash? The bins are outside."

"It's not trash." Leslie nods to Tubbo. "It's his belongings."

Schlatt wakes up to the smell of smoke. He’s fairly confident Quackity did something stupid to set it off but he still hurries to check. He needed to be awake anyways to finish baby proofing the apartment for inspection.

The ram confirmed his suspicions when he saw Quackity in an apron he didn’t even know he owned waving away smoke coming from a pan with something so burnt Schlatt couldn’t even tell what it was.

“Y’know just knocking on my bedroom door would wake me up, no need to try and burn the damn apartment down.”

“Who knew following Ranboo’s cereal video could go so poorly?”

“That was CEREAL?” Schlatt turns back to his soon-to-be shared room, it was too early to figure out how his friend managed that. Though he’s sure there’s a good story behind it.

He gets dressed and goes to clean up the living room, Quackity focusing on trying to fix whatever crime he committed in the kitchen. They talk while they pick up, Quackity telling him what was happening in law school and Schlatt telling him about how he fell up the stairs.

“You fell UP the stairs?”

“Yes, up the stairs. Do you even listen to-”

They freeze when there’s a knock at the door. Quackity going over and shoving him towards it with a whispered “Charm her.” Before the duck makes himself scarce but thankfully, still in sight if Schlatt should need him.

He opens the door, and looks up at the woman who he assumes is the same one over the phone and steps aside to let her in.

“I’m Leslie, we spoke over the phone, yes?” She holds out her hand, shifting her clipboard further into her side.

He stares at her outstretched hand for maybe too long before realizing he’s supposed to shake it. “Yeah, I’m Schlatt that’s- that’s Alex.”

“Do you want something to drink?” Quackity asks from the kitchen, opening several cabinets looking for the cups. He opens Schlatt’s liquor cabinet and freezes, looking back at him sheepishly mouthing ‘sorry.` towards Schlatt

Schlatt tries to laugh it off, turning back to Leslie who just checks something off on her paper.

“Put a lock on it and you’re fine.” She keeps walking around, telling them a few things they might want to do. Things neither of the boys would’ve thought of like covering the open outlets.

She finishes looking around and all three of them sit at the kitchen table, the social worker passing over a custody form and a file.

“By signing this you’ll be granting custody of Tubbo, the form just needs you to promise you’ll put him in a school and allow the system to make house visits.” She passes him a pen while Quackity takes the manila folder and opens it.

“So Ms. Leslie, tell me what I’m looking at here.” Quackity has his nose almost touching the paper trying to read the small text. At the top is a small black and white photo paper clipped to the page.

“It’s nothing bad, as you can see it’s not very full. Just a few notes about his behavior and his birth certificate.” She reaches over and points at the section labeled ‘Additional comments’ “We’re not sure if he can speak, he has screaming fits over seemingly nothing, and is incredibly shy.”

“What do we do if he really can’t talk?” Schlatt pushed the forms back to her, scooting his chair towards Quackity so they could look at the file together.

“You won’t need to worry about that, he’s been through a lot. He most likely just needs some stability. Somewhere where he feels safe enough to express himself.” She puts the now signed form on her clipboard and stands up. “He just needs someone to make him feel loved, then if that doesn’t work we’ll talk about speech therapy.”

Quackity takes the small photo of Tubbo and puts it on the fridge. “Oh my god Schlatt he has little horns!”

Schlatt walks over to the fridge to get a closer look. Sure enough, even though it’s the grainiest picture he’d seen, the horns were clearly poking through the toddlers head. A hand in his mouth and wide eyes looking right at the camera, the resemblance was there.

“Poor kid, must’ve hurt to get those so early.” It hurt him to know he wasn’t there to help his kid through the painful process of growing horns.

“Remember in middle school when I had to bring you your homework because your horns were always hurting?”

“Don’t remind me.” He shuddered at the thought. He’d rather have a migraine everyday then ever go through the pain of growing horns again.

“I’ll bring him by tonight if that’s alright with you?”

“That’s great, we’ll be here.” Schlatt walks her to the door, they add each other into their respective contact lists before she’s headed back down the apartment stairs.

“She can have him here by tonight? Wow, same day delivery.”

“Didn’t you know? CPS is partnered with Amazon these days.”

“Wait, really?” Quackity slams the fridge closed and looks behind him towards Schlatt.

“No, not really, Dumbass.” Schlatt shakes his head and goes to put Tubbo’s file in the designated important stuff drawer. He hears Quackity shuffling behind him, zipping up his bookbag.

“Oh. Well this dumbass needs to go to class.”

“You’ll be done by tonight right?” Of course the duck would fail to mention he had law school today. Schlatt feels a surge of guilt when he thinks about how much stress he must be causing Quackity. He’s already balancing streaming and school, now Schlatt’s gone and dragged him into this mess as well.

“ ‘Course I will be, gotta meet my new godson.” Schlatt hands him his glasses and he’s out the door with a wave and another promise to be home to see Tubbo tonight.

Schlatt sits on the living room couch, editing a video on his laptop. His hands itch for a cigarette but he really doesn’t want a social worker to smell that on him. That’d be responsible of him, right?

He finishes a new jackbox video and passes out on the couch, only to be woken up by Quackity tossing his unreasonably heavy backpack at him. He wheezes and throws the backpack off his stomach, the books inside hitting against each other with several thuds.

“Judging by how you're sleeping right now, I guess Little T isn't here yet."

"We’re not calling him 'Little T' it doesn't even make sense. It implies there's a big T and last I checked there's only a big Q and a Big man. No T." He sits up fully, putting his elbows on his legs and leaning into his hands. He feels the couch dip as Quackity sits next to him.

"When he's big, he'll be big T, but right now he's little. So… little T."

"I'm not calling him that."

"Suit yourself."

He keeps his eyes closed, and listens to the sound of Quackity turning on the television. He never knew what the duck would play, it was always something different and usually chaotic.

The sound of one of Quackity's intros begins to play and Schlatt laughs and pushes a smug Quackity off the couch.

"Give me that remote, you've lost youtube privileges."

Schlatt leans over the couch and reaches for the remote the now floored Quackity is keeping away from him.

"My videos are not bad, and I will in fact be showing Tubbo every single one of them as soon as he gets here."

He pins Quackity's right arm and grabs the remote. He starts to laugh when he falls off the couch, joining Quackity between the coffee table and the couch.

He grips the remote tightly, careful to keep the remote close to him so the duck couldn't snatch it back. They're both sitting on the floor, facing each other with their knees against the couch base.

It's one of Quackity's older videos, Schlatt lets it play.

Another roblox raid video is about to begin when there's a knock at the door. Schlatt turns off the TV and brushes off his clothes before rushing to answer.

"Hello again." He smiles when he sees the face of the same woman that had come by earlier. He looks down and his eyes widen when he sees Tubbo.

He's handed a black garbage bag. "What- why did you bring up trash? The bins are outside."

"It's not trash." Leslie nods to Tubbo. "It's his belongings."

Quackity comes up to the door. He looks at the trash bag and then to the toddler. "I mean, not what I was expecting but really what was I thinking? Not like he'd have a suitcase."

Schlatt takes the makeshift bag and sets it against the crib in his room.

He walks back out to see Leslie now holding Tubbo against her hip talking to Quackity.

The duck is nodding very seriously and copying the way the woman has her arms. Schlatt is confused about what they're doing till she carefully passes Tubbo to Quackity. His smile reaches his eyes when he manages to not drop the boy.

Tubbo doesn't seem as happy to be held, he's leaning away from Quackity and reaching for Leslie. Whining, and clearly very nervous.

Schlatt couldn't blame him, Quackity wasn't known for being careful with anything. He'd be nervous too in the toddler's situation.

"Careful with my kid, I don't want him to get dropped and then never want to be held again before I even get the chance." He walks past Quackity and Tubbo, headed towards the door. Leslie follows him.

“If it’s too much, you can always give him up.” She looks so serious Schlatt can’t look her in the eyes anymore. “Do what’s best for him, don’t let pride keep him somewhere that isn’t meeting his needs.”

Schlatt wonders if this woman was just that good at reading people or if she gives this speech to everybody. He lies through his teeth when he tells her he’d never be too proud to make the right decision. Everyone who has ever met him will tell you he thinks only with his ego.

She leaves, and as soon as he closes the door he lets out the breath he was holding and goes back to the kitchen.

“He’s light, I read that two year olds were hard to carry.”

“Maybe you’re just strong.”

Quackity readjusts so Tubbo is further up his hip. “You know that’s not true. Should we be worried he’s this light?”

Schlatt reaches his hands out, Quackity awkwardly passes Tubbo over to him. He’s no longer whining but rather is just staring at them both with wide eyes.

“Hey buddy, I know it’s a lot to take in.” He pats Tubbo on the back. “What about some dinner? Get you weighing more with a grilled cheese.”

With the help of Quackity they get Tubbo situated in the tiny booster seat. The duck sits next to the boy, handing a small stuffed animal to keep him occupied while Schlatt cooks.

He makes one for each of them and adds some fruit on the side, setting it down in front of the two before going to sit across from them.

Quackity cuts Tubbo’s into smaller bits while the toddler watches with his hand in his mouth. When Quackity finishes he takes his hands away but Tubbo makes no move to eat on his own.

Schlatt and Quackity exchange a look before the duck picks up a small piece and brings it up to Tubbo’s mouth. Gently prying the toddler’s hand away from his mouth.

Tubbo refuses to eat it. Turning away and putting his hand back in his mouth.

“I promise it tastes better than it looks, I only burned it a little bit.” Schlatt encourages him, before reaching over and taking a small piece of Tubbo’s sandwich and eating it. “See? Now you.”

Tubbo smiles a little but continues to suck on his fingers instead. Quackity and Schlatt continue eating thinking of what to try next. He didn’t want to force the kid to eat it, maybe he just didn’t like that food. Kids can be picky.

“What about some juice? Or-or some apple slices?” Quackity finishes his sandwich and goes over to the fridge taking out an apple and a caprisun.

“Quackity is offering you one of his favorite drinks, you should feel honored Tubs.” Maybe the little ram does, it’s hard to tell what he’s feeling when all he does is stare.

The apple is sliced and placed infront of him and Quackity opens the caprisun before his phone rings. “It’s Karl, I forgot I’m supposed to record with him today. Shit, hold on you two.” He goes to his room, leaving Schlatt alone, sitting across from his kid.

He stares at Tubbo, leaning back and folding his hands on the table. They stare at each other for a moment before Tubbo takes his hand out of his mouth and starts to cry.

Schlatt walks over to him and picks him up out of the seat. “No no no don’t do that don’t uh- don’t cry please?” He bounces him and pats his back but it doesn’t seem to help. The kid buries his head on Schlatt’s shoulder and sobs, and Schlatt cringes from the feeling of his slimy hands on his arm and the noise.

“Oh my god, Quackity!”

Quackity rushes out and relaxes when he sees there’s no danger. Besides the idiot in front of him. But he’s more of a danger to himself. “Maybe he’s bored? I’d cry too if I had to just sit and stare at your ugly face.”

“Bro what the fuck?”

“Just put on some of those weird kids youtube videos! Babies cry, Schlatt. It's like- 90% of what they do.”

And that’s how Schlatt ended up on the couch, watching one of those baby sensory videos with a sniffling toddler who still hadn’t eaten a damn thing.

There’s a rainbow bouncing across a black background with some soft music and for a moment Schlatt finds himself just as immersed in it.

Tubbo’s hand is back in his mouth and Schlatt notes he needs to get him something to chew on later, but for now, the poor kid needs a tissue. He leans over to the coffee table to grab one, careful not to disturb the toddler who is currently clinging to his side like a koala.

He wipes his nose, with thankfully no protest from Tubbo. Before taking another tissue and gently wiping the tear tracks away. “It’s gonna be okay, it’s- it’s okay kid.”

Tubbo puts his head against Schlatt's side, and Schlatt props his feet up on the coffee table. Getting comfortable before leaning his head back on the couch.

By the time Quackity was done recording with Karl, which was quite the struggle to do on his laptop, Schlatt and Tubbo were both asleep on the couch. He considers waking them up, but he really didn’t want Tubbo to cry again. So he brings the untouched fruit over to the living room and turns off the TV before bringing his laptop out to the couch and editing quietly next to the two.

He calls it a successful day, after all everyone was alive, right?

#minecraft fanfiction #fanfic #c4pricornc4ts #dadschlatt #mama quackity

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lockefanfic · 4 years

Text

Business Trip: Pt 28 - Glass

Jay is unsatisfied with Nayeon’s neck, and he is quickly moving downward, to the buttons of her blue shirt. He quickly unbuttons the two buttons there before reaching up to her shoulders and sliding the shirt down her shoulders, until her small, perfect breasts are revealed, Nayeon having evidently decided not to wear a bra. Jay pauses momentarily to admire her naked chest, until Nayeon reaches up and pulls the shirt down further, pushing her own chest outward to put her breasts on full display.

Jay doesn’t waste any time and dives in, quickly capturing and beginning to suck on her left nipple - Nayeon lets a slight moan of pleasure escape her lips, not once allowing her gaze to deviate from the glass, her eyes somehow remaining locked on yours, even though you knew it should have been impossible for her to know where you were.

You are distracted from the sight playing out in front of you by Seolhyun, who is shuffling uncomfortably next to you, unsure quite how to react to what was happening in the interrogation room. When she turns her head to look at you, her cheeks are flushed and she is biting her lip, her right arm crossed around her torso while her left hand has drifted lower, past her flat stomach…

She doesn’t use words - but you find what she wants in her eyes.

You reach over, wrapping your hand around the small of her back and pulling her towards you - but keeping her facing the glass, ensuring you could both watch.

The empty chair held your attention for too long.

You shake your head in an effort to rid yourself of the thoughts surrounding the chair and the person who should have occupied it, but your efforts are in vain. Your ears register the sound of a young woman speaking, although her words sound muffled, as though she is far away.

"Sir? Sir, are you okay?"

It takes you a moment to realize you are being spoken to. For a moment you think it is her voice - but when your eyes finally manage to start working once more, you realize, sadly, that it isn't her.

"Sir?" she asks again, and your eyes finally make out the image of a young woman with blonde hair and pale, porcelain skin.

"I'm sorry, Dahyun," you answer, "I'm fine."

"Here's your coffee, sir," she answers as she offers you a smile undercut with a healthy amount of concern.

"Thank you."

You accept the paper cup and stare blankly at the transparent amber liquid inside and realize that it definitely wasn't coffee. It was probably tea. Before you could say anything, Dahyun scurries off to finish handing off the rest of the drinks on her tray.

"She got my order wrong too. I wanted green tea, and I'm pretty sure this is an Americano," comes a voice, and you realize it is coming from Seolhyun, who is seated to your left. You turn to see that she is offering you a smile, and you return it with one of your own - at least, as much of a smile as you could manage. You slide your cup over to Seolhyun, and she gladly accepts your trade.

A loud clanging sound takes the attention from the both of you,and you realize that Dahyun has dropped the metal tray she was using to pass around the drinks to everyone seated around the boardroom table. She grabs the fallen tray and bows repeatedly to everyone in apology.

"She's clumsy as hell, but she means well," you say to Seolhyun.

Kim Dahyun was the newest member of your team, assigned to you as your new personal assistant following Choa's departure to Europe. You had only met her the day before when JYP himself introduced her to everyone in the Seoul office. You'd yet to form much of an opinion of her other than the fact that she was a bit of a klutz, constantly dropping things and getting simple things like drink orders wrong. But her resume and education were impressive, and you could tell by the way she conducted herself that she had nothing but the best of intentions.

"She has big shoes to fill," Seolhyun observes, "Choa was on point with everything." You nod absentmindedly in agreement, staring blankly at your cup of coffee. Dahyun has shuffled off to the front of the room to where Jihyo and Nayeon are trying, mostly in vain, to set up the projector and laptop for their presentation - something Dahyun really should have taken care of, and something Choa would have had ready half an hour before.

A few moments pass as the three of them try to figure out the right combination of monitor settings and cable plugging to get the presentation up on the projector. They eventually manage to get some sort of image up on the screen, but it's blurry and out of focus. Your eyes drift, involuntarily, back to the empty chair.

"I don't know what happened between you and her," Seolhyun begins, "but I'm sorry."

You look back at Seolhyun, who has an earnest look on her face, and offer her a weak smile. Your occasional liaisons with her were obviously amazing - she had the body of a model and knew how to use it - but even beyond that you were nonetheless thankful that she had become a good friend over the past several months.

"Thanks, Seolhyun. It was tough, but it's for the best."

At that moment Sana, Tzuyu, and Jeongyeon enter the room, the three of them greeting everyone with smiles and bows. Your gaze settles a little longer on Jeongyeon, who offers you a warm, if nervous, smile - and you couldn't help but notice the slight blush on her cheeks as she turns away to assist the three women at the front of the room with their technical issues.

Seolhyun must have caught on to the look you shared with her.

"You move on quick," she says, a hint of derision in her voice, "I'd thought the fun you two were having on the plane was just a physical thing." She'd obviously known Momo longer than Jeongyeon and had built a strong friendship with the Japanese girl. You didn't blame her for jumping to conclusions, especially if she'd noticed what you and Jeongyeon were up to on the flight over.

"It's not what you think," you say, wanting to clarify things, "this has nothing to do with Jeongyeon."

"Okay," Seolhyun says, appearing satisfied for now, "if you say so. I trust you."

Your eyes stray back to the empty chair.

"She loved you," Seolhyun says, softly.

"I know," you answer.

---

Im Nayeon had always been an effective public speaker - the confidence and poise of her everyday personality showed through in the way she spoke, every word filled with conviction, as though she was one hundred percent sure of everything she said. Doubt was anathema to her - or so she made it seem.

"High functioning criminals like these operate similarly," she states, "They keep records of everything they do in case they need it in the future for blackmail or as an alibi or for some other reason. Thus far, JYP's efforts to access that information via online methods has failed due to lack of technical effort, or ability, or both."

Your gaze immediately snaps to Jeongyeon, who has a defiant, angry look on her face following Nayeon's thinly veiled insult. Her hand on the table has clenched into a fist. If Nayeon noticed her reaction, she ignored it and continued with her presentation.

"I believe that incriminating evidence exists in hard copy form, or on secure, non-networked hard drives. I believe it is being held somewhere in SM headquarters."

"And how exactly do you propose we find out where they're keeping those records," Jeongyeon asks with an edge in her tone, "nevermind actually going in there and getting them?"

"We have the resources to determine the exact location of those records. At the moment those resources are sitting in jail cells. It's just a matter of forcing the information out of those resources."

Jihyo rises from her seat and joins Nayeon at the front of the room.

"We know for a fact that Son Sungwan and Park Sooyoung - better known by their SM aliases of Wendy and Joy, respectively - worked closely with Bae Irene for years," she says, "We know that they were involved in a number of similar attacks to the ones they have committed on JYP, including those on YG and Starship. On top of that, we have three others that worked closely with Irene - Park Jaebom, Yoon Bora, and Kim Hyojung - also in custody. If anyone would know where in SM headquarters those records are being kept, it's one of them."

"We've interrogated them already," Seolhyun points out, "in fact, you oversaw those interrogations yourself, detective. Are you saying that you missed something?"

"No, I'm merely saying we hadn't thought to interrogate them regarding the possibility of their records existing somewhere in SM headquarters. It was something we hadn't considered until my colleague here suggested it," Jihyo answers with a nod towards Nayeon.

"What we are proposing," Nayeon continues, "is that we re-interrogate Irene’s associates that we have in custody, this time with an aim towards confirming the existence, and then the location of, records that will incriminate SM for past crimes and implicate them in the crimes they have committed towards JYP."

There is a hush in the room as those in attendance consider her proposition. After a few moments Sana speaks up, a somewhat concerned look on her face.

"So saying these records to exist," she asks, leaning forward, "what's the next step? We raid SM with the police and obtain them by force?"

"Unfortunately, no," Jihyo answers, "we would never get a warrant for that. The law would consider anything Wendy and Joy say to be a confession given under duress. Furthermore it's entirely possible Wendy and Joy would give us false information, in which case SM could sue for wrongful accusation and invasion of privacy if we were to raid them and find nothing. Someone would have to go into SM headquarters and retrieve the records themselves."

The assembled members of your team whisper amongst themselves for a few moments as they consider what Jihyo was implying.

"That sounds like some sort of secret agent mission," Tzuyu says with a tone of disbelief, "and furthermore SM knows who all of us are. Their security would grab us the second we step foot on their property."

You had raised a similar point at the bar in Hawaii when Jihyo first proposed her plan. You were curious to see how your team reacted to her answer.

"We're aware of that. This is why the person conducting the record retrieval will be someone who is completely foreign and unknown to SM."

"That would be me," Nayeon says, a smug smirk on her features.

As the other girls give snorts of disbelief and whisper disapprovingly to themselves, you lock eyes with Nayeon.

There was nothing but pride there in those eyes. Pride and full, complete confidence.

---

If one word could be used to describe Jay, it would be smug.

He had a look on his face like everything that was happening to him was beneath him, as though he didn’t really believe he was facing pretty intense criminal charges. It was almost as if he thought being detained for attempted murder of a SWAT team member - in addition to conspiracy, kidnapping, and extortion charges - was only a minor inconvenience at most, and that he’d be free in no time at all.

It was a look that pissed off Kim Seolhyun.

“I want to walk in there and slap that look right off his fucking face,” she says, crossing her arms as she stands next to you, observing the detained former detective from the viewing room next to the interrogation room.

“You and I both,” you agree.

The door to the interrogation room opens, and in walks Im Nayeon - and the look on her face is one of boredom, of aloofness, of someone being forced to go through the paces. She is wearing a light blue sweater dress that leaves most of her long, slim legs bare; perfect for the warm Seoul summer, you suppose, but a little out of place in an interrogation room. She gives Jay a quick look and rolls her eyes.

You knew Nayeon, and you knew enough about her job, to know this was all an act.

She saunters nonchalantly over to the desk where Jay is sitting with his wrists handcuffed to a bar in the middle of the table, casually tossing a file she carried onto it. She crosses her perfectly sculpted legs and begins to examine her nails, seemingly irritated at some imperfection she saw in the glossy red finish.

Jay seemed a little taken aback by Nayeon’s aloof attitude towards what he had assumed would be an interrogation.

“Aren’t you here to interrogate me, sweetheart? Or are you just here to play with your nails?”

Nayeon ignores him the same way she would ignore an insect that was buzzing around her. Jay persists.

“Where are you from, anyway? You’re not from Seoul PD. No way a hottie like you would be working here and I wouldn’t know it.”

Nayeon finally acknowledges Jay’s presence with a sharp look.

“Seoul PD brought me in to interrogate you. But I don’t want to be here, you don’t want to be here,” she says as she browses idly through the papers in the file on the table, “so I’m just going to tell them that you’ve been uncooperative and then we can both stop this fucking waste of time. I’m sure not cooperating with a police investigation will add another year or two to the decade or so that you’ll be spending in jail.”

Nayeon picks up a pen from within the file and begins to scratch something in a notepad. Jay scoffs.

“Too bad all the cameras and microphones in this room have recorded you not giving a shit about your job,” he hisses.

“Who says they’re turned on?” Nayeon retorts, not even looking up from the notes she is scribbling on her notepad. Jay snorts, seemingly frustrated with the young woman’s nonchalance - he was playing, it seemed, right into Nayeon’s trap. She finishes whatever she was jotting down on the notepad, adding a flourish to the bottom part of the page, as though she were leaving her signature.

“Well, good meeting you. Enjoy rotting in jail,” she says, before standing and heading towards the door.

“Wait,” Jay says as she reaches it, her hand on the doorknob.

From your point of view you could just barely make out the small smirk that appears on Nayeon’s lips. And you might have just imagined it, but you could have sworn she’d given you a look, despite the two-way glass between you that would have kept her from seeing where you were.

“What?” Nayeon asks, appearing annoyed once again.

“Maybe I can help you out. Fill you in on something. Maybe in return you can tell the higher-ups something that’ll get me off these charges.”

“You’re gonna squeal? Gonna snitch? I fucking knew you were a loser.”

“Listen, Bora and I were just doing it for the money. We ain’t got no beef with these JYP peeps, and no loyalty to that SM bitch either. I don’t give a shit if you take them down.”

“And what do you know that could be helpful to me?”

“Lots,” Jay answers, leaning back in his chair now that he thought he had Nayeon’s attention, “ Bora and I met with Irene quite a bit to plan out our operation. I could tell you where we met.”

Nayeon saunters back to the desk, throws the file back onto the table, and crosses her legs and arms once more. That irritated, displeased look on her face is still there, as though every second she spent with Jay was a waste of her valuable time.

“Go on,” she says with a lazy tone, as though she was only humoring him.

“We met at SM headquarters most of the time. Place is done up tighter than Fort Knox - if you go through the front door. We went in through a side entrance. Black door in an alleyway. It had a keypad.”

“And what was the code?”

Jay smirks - he had been waiting for this moment.

“How about you tell your boss that Bora and I are to be set free - then I’ll tell you the code?”

“Fuck off,” Nayeon hisses, gathering her folder and beginning to leave.

“Alright, alright,” Jay says, raising his hands as best he could given that they were handcuffed to the desk, “I’ll tell you, I’ll tell you. But you gotta do something for me too.”

“You’re in no position to bargain,” Nayeon answers, nodding her head towards his handcuffed wrists.

“Those are the terms,” Jay says, folding his hands in front of him on the desk, “that keypad code will get you right into SM HQ. I ain’t got no love for those bastards, but you still gotta give me something if I’m gonna give it to you.”

Nayeon’s frown deepens, as though she were weighing her options.

“Alright, listen,” she says after awhile, “I can’t get you off completely. I might be able to lessen your charges so you get only a year or two. Maybe I’ll even get it down to a few months. I’ll do what I can. In return, you give me the code.”

“Fine. It’s a six digit code. It’s 4, 3, 1…”

Nayeon has been jotting down the numbers, but her eyes perk up when Jay leaves the last three numbers out.

“...and?” she says, irritated.

“You’ll get the last three numbers when Bora and I go free.”

“Fuck you,” Nayeon spits, “it’s all six numbers or nothing.”

“Then have fun getting into SM without the code, detective,” Jay retorts.

“Then have fun rotting in jail,” responds, parroting Jay’s tone.

Jay frowns.

“Alright. Maybe there’s another way you can convince me to give you those last three digits, detective,” he says, giving the young woman a suggestive look up and down, his eyes lingering for too long on her breasts and the way they sat atop her folded arms.

Nayeon stares at Jay, her eyes boring into him with a look of annoyance.

“Alright, I’ll give you twenty minutes.”

“...twenty minutes for what, detective?” Jay asks. Nayeon rolls her eyes again, impatient, as though she was frustrated with Jay’s inability to grasp what she meant.

“I’ll give you twenty minutes with me. In return, you give me the last three numbers.”

Jay lets a small, sly smile appear on his lips - he caught on to what Nayeon was implying, but he still wanted to hear her say it.

“I’m not understanding what you mean by twenty minutes with you, detective. I’m afraid you’re going to have to explain what you mean.”

“Don’t act like you don’t know what I’m talking about. Don’t act like you haven’t been mentally undressing me since the second I stepped in here. I suppose I can give you what you want - I’m bored as fuck around here anyway. Korean guys have no game in the sack. At least you were born in America.”

Jay’s only response is a deepening of his self-satisfied smile.

Nayeon lets a snort out, as though she were disgusted at the prospect of what she were about to allow him to do. She pulls a set of keys from her folder’s pocket, leaning forward to unlock Jay’s handcuffs - giving him a nice look down her shirt as she does so.

When Jay’s hands are free, she steps over to his side of the desk before hopping on top of it in front of him.

“The timer’s ticking,” she says, her voice suddenly low, “you better get started. If you make me cum, maybe I’ll make sure you and Bora are out of here by the end of the day.”

Nayeon reaches down and pulls her short shirt up until it is bunched around her waist, revealing the scant pair of white panties she has on underneath.

Next to you, Seolhyun suffles uncomfortably - you glance over to see a concerned, somewhat confused look on her face, as though she weren’t quite sure what to make of what was playing out in front of her. You were similarly uncomfortable; surely this was just some ploy on Nayeon’s part? Surely she really didn’t mean to let him…

Jay stands, a cocky smile on that smug face of his, and he moves between Nayeon’s spread legs and kisses her deeply.

You are taken aback by this, not expecting her to let him actually touch her, let alone kiss her; you are equal parts shocked and angered, and when you watch as Jay’s tongue enters Nayeon’s mouth - and Nayeon’s tongue darts out to welcome it - you feel your fists curl in anger. Jay doesn’t stop at her lips, however, and soon he dives into Nayeon’s neck, and she lets her head fall back to give him better access to her soft, perfect vanilla skin - and as she does so, she lets her head fall to the side where she gazes at the glass between you, as though she were looking right at you.

She doesn’t use words - but you find what she wants in her eyes.

You reach over, wrapping your hand around the small of her back and pulling her towards you - but keeping her facing the glass, ensuring you could both watch.

Seolhyun lets a soft gasp escape her lips, but she doesn’t stop you; quite the opposite, in fact, as she braces herself against the glass and looks behind her at you, her eyes suddenly lustful and full of need.

You step behind her, pressing yourself against her tall, thin frame, and you let your hands wander over the curves of her perfectly sculpted body. You weren’t quite sure why it was happening - but you knew perhaps that watching Jay and Nayeon had inspired a voyeuristic lust in both of you that neither of you could deny.

You reach around Seolhyun’s body with your right hand, finding and quickly unbuttoning the light green shirt she is wearing. All the while she is pressing her frame against yours, rubbing that round, full butt of hers against your quickly hardening shaft. She unbuttons the khaki skirt she is wearing, and you quickly undo your pants, allowing them to fall to your ankles where they join her skirt.

In the interrogation room, Jay has continued his path downward, pushing Nayeon’s legs up on the desk until her feet are flat on the top of it, her legs spread wantonly as he dips his head between her thighs. He reaches around her butt and quickly pulls off her white panties, flinging them across the room. Jay certainly wouldn’t have noticed given his proximity to the delicious looking prize between her spread legs, but Nayeon has turned her body slightly.

All so that you could have the perfect view of another man’s head between her thighs.

It angered you, it made you jealous, it confused you - but you pushed those feelings aside. There was only lust in your mind now, and the show playing out in front of you only increased your need to satiate that desire.

Jay falls to his knees and dips his head to Nayeon’s crotch; you can’t see it, but you could tell by the glazed expression of lust on Nayeon’s face, and the breathy moan that escapes her mouth, that his tongue has begun to play with her body.

Simultaneously, in the viewing room, your hand has travelled down Seolhyun’s firm abs, and at almost the same time, Seolhyun echoes Nayeon’s moan with one of her own as your fingers graze her wet, hot lips.

Jay continues his work on your ex-girlfriend in the interrogation room, Nayeon’s expression twisting in evermore deepening depictions of lust and pleasure; expressions that are echoed in Seolhyun’s features as your fingers work on her pussy, spreading her lips apart with your index and ring finger, allowing your middle finger perfect access to her clit, first gathering her juices on your fingertip and then circling the sensitive bud with slow, soft touches.

For long minutes you continue, Jay between Nayeon’s legs and you behind Seolhyun, the moans and lustful gasps emanating from both women rising steadily in concert with the pleasure building in their young, tight bodies.

All the while, Nayeon has kept her eyes glued to the one-way glass that separates your two rooms. It should have been impossible. She shouldn’t have been able to see where you were standing. But she did - you could have sworn she was staring right at you, even as her eyes are half-lidded with pleasure as the man working between her legs plays havoc with her flesh.

Suddenly, Nayeon pushes Jay’s head out from between her legs. She hops off the table, places her hands on it and looks back at Jay.

“Fuck me.”

Jay wipes Nayeon’s juices from his mouth with the back of his hand and licks off what he doesn’t. His smile, that fucking smug smile of his, is right back on his face as he steps behind Nayeon, grasping his cock in one hand and your ex-girlfriend’s hip with the other.

With one hard thrust he enters her, and soon he is fucking her.

You watch, momentarily dumbfounded, as another man does to Nayeon what you had done yourself all those years ago, and the sight of it angers you, confuses you, and made you want to go over there and punch that stupid grin right off Jay’s face. To watch Nayeon, and her perfect, small little body, be taken and fucked by another man - it made you furious.

Seolhyun’s moans distract you temporarily from the anger that was building in your head.

“Oh, god… that feels so good… stop. Fuck me. Fuck me now.”

You don’t even hesitate, don’t even wait a second longer. You withdraw your drenched fingertips from Seolhyun’s body and pull your boxers down, freeing your straining hard cock from their cotton prison before lining up your shaft between Seolhyun’s legs, the wanton young woman spreading her long limbs and bending over slightly to give you the best access she could.

With one long, hard thrust you enter Seolhyun’s wet, hot pussy - at the same time, in the interrogation room, Nayeon lets a long, loud moan escape her lips as she is fucked from behind by Jay. You have a perfect side view of them, and you can watch as Jay’s cock appears slick and wet from Nayeon’s body before hammering right back inside her, her small, cute butt rippling with each impact of his hips.

Nayeon’s eyes return to yours - there is lust there, but also some other emotion. She wants you to see her like this. She wants you to watch another man fuck her, have his way with her, just as you used to do.

The anger that is building up in your body is taken out on Seolhyun, as you fuck her against the interrogation room glass, roughly and without care for her or her pleasure - her body served only as an outlet for the frustration, anger, and confusion in your mind - anger that Nayeon would pull a stunt like this, would fuck another man in front of you just to piss you off.

Seolhyun moans and gasps and her pussy is tight and wet and hot, but your real focus is on Nayeon, and the way her small, tight body is rocked back and forth on the table as Jay fucks her - your eyes lock with each other, never straying apart, even though the one-way glass should have kept you from doing so.

You reach up Seolhyun’s quivering torso and grasp one of her breasts through her bra, your other hand grasping her hip tightly and pushing it back toward you as you thrust forward with your hips into her wet flesh, each thrust eliciting a gasp or moan of pleasure - she was loving every moment of this.

“Yes!” she gasps, “yes.. Fuck me… fuck me… fuck me!”

Seolhyun was lost, uncaring of the circumstances that led to this moment, uncaring of the context of the relationship you and Nayeon had. All that mattered to her was the intense pleasure emanating from her core, and the hard shaft that was spearing in and out of her body as she was fucked against the glass.

In the interrogation room, Jay smacks Nayeon’s ass with a firm palm, and Nayeon yelps in pleasure and pain. She turns as far as she can while still keeping him inside her and places a hand on his chest, implicitly telling him to stop moving - and when he stops thrusting you watch as Nayeon begins to push herself back, impaling herself over and over again on Jay’s unmoving cock. Her lower body moves like liquid, her hips working hard as they are swirling and gyrating smoothly, taking the hard shaft between her legs in and out of her pussy in up and down, back and forth motions.

Nayeon returns her gaze to you.

You are furious now, and you take it out on Seolhyun, pistoning in and out of her body with increasing pace, her pussy tightening around yours as though heralding her orgasm.

“Oh, fuck! Fuck me… God, I’m so close… oh god, I’m cumming!”

Seolhyun orgasms, but you don’t care, and you fuck her right through it, not stopping at all, not even lessening the intensity or depth of your thrusts into her spasming, quivering pussy. You tighten your grip on her hip and her breast, continuing your thrusts as you feel your own orgasm approaching.

In the interrogation room, Nayeon is satisfied with the show she has given Jay, and turns to whisper to him once more.

“Fuck me until I cum,” she whispers.

Jay returns his hands to her hips, enjoying the sight of Nayeon’s small, perfectly fit body bent over for him, her pussy impaled on his shaft. Licking his lips, he goes back to fucking her; Nayeon’s gaze returns to yours.

Soon her body is rocking back and forth on the table again, and Nayeon raises her upper body from the desk, bracing herself with her hands, until she is almost upright. Her small, perfect breasts bounce with each thrust into her, the mounds of flesh looking so delicious, her nipples still stiff with pleasure.

In the viewing room you are still pounding in and out of Seolhyun - she is moaning, and gasping, and speaking dirty, filthy words, but almost none of them really register - your eyes are locked on Nayeon’s.

For another minute this goes on. Every thrust Jay makes into Nayeon’s body is mirrored with one of your own into Seolhyun.

“Fuck, I’m close,” Nayeon says, her voice carrying an edge, as though she didn’t want to admit it.

In the viewing room, Seolhyun’s wet, slick pussy was driving you close to your own.

“Cum in me,” Seolhyun hisses, distracting you momentarily, “fucking cum in me. Deep inside me. I want it. Cum… cum inside me!”

Your orgasms strike you both simultaneously - in the interrogation room, Nayeon lets a sharp gasp escape her open lips as she cums, throwing her head back with a louder moan as her body is wracked and finally overcome with pleasure. Her small body quivers and shakes, something you were well familiar with, and the sight of it now, due to another man, made you outright furious.

In the viewing room you fill Seolhyun’s needy body with thick, hot streams of semen as you cum, your grip on her perfect frame tightening almost painfully as you empty yourself inside her. Seolhyun lets out a satisfied moan at the feeling of your warm seed coating her pussy, and a part of you wants to indulge her, wants to savor the feeling of her body accepting your cum, but your eyes are still locked on the young woman in the interrogation room.

Nayeon pushes back on Jay, and he slips out of her and slumps onto the chair, his shaft glistening and slick with her juices.

“I hope we ain’t done yet, sweetheart,” he says, that asshole of a smile still plastered all over his face.

Nayeon takes a moment to compose herself, but when she does she picks up the handcuffs from the table, sauntering over to Jay’s seated form, her breasts and lower body still exposed by the shirt dress that was bunched up around her midsection.

“I have other things in mind for you,” she says, lustily. Jay licks his lips in anticipation.

“Tell me what I want,” Nayeon continues, straddling Jay on the chair as she bends to whisper into his ear, “and I’ll let you cum. Wherever you want.”

At this point Jay is almost helpless, his hard shaft, still slick with Nayeon’s juices, pressed against Nayeon’s lower stomach as she grinds softly against it, her slick lips spreading her slick wetness onto his balls.

“Fuck, sweetheart-”

“Tell me. Tell me the last three digits, and I’ll fuck every drop of cum out of your balls.”

“Alright, alright. The digits are 4, 3, 1…. 2…”

“I’ll drain you dry. Anywhere you want. In my mouth?”

“4…”

“Or… in this wet, tight little pussy?”

“Fuck… the last one is…”

“Tell me, Jay. Tell me and you can fill me. Fill me with your cum.”

“7!. It’s 7. The code is 4, 3, 1, 2, 4, 7.”

Nayeon turns her head, locking eyes with you again through the glass, where you are still standing behind Seolhyun’s spent, exhausted body. Your shaft is still embedded inside her.

“Good boy,” she whispers into Jay’s ear, before standing up and pulling down her shirt and rebuttoning up the collar.

“Hey, what the… what the fuck?” Jay spits.

Nayeon snaps her fingers. The door to the interrogation room opens, and in walk two police officers - and Jihyo, with a look of intense disapproval on her face as she steps in and crosses her arms.

“Toss him into a hole and let him rot,” Nayeon says as she smooths her messy hair and finishes composing herself. With a nonchalance that impresses you, she saunters over to the notepad on the desk, where she jots down the code Jay gave her.

Jay resists, hard, but the two officers finally manage to drag him cursing and swearing out of the room, his pants still around his knees. Jihyo follows them, but not before giving Nayeon one last look. Nayeon sees it and points at the code she has obtained, and Jihyo seems placated enough to give her one last smirk before turning and leaving the room.

In the viewing room your softened cock finally slips out of Seolhyun’s body, drawing a gasp from the young woman as a not insignificant stream of hot semen flows from her entrance to stain her full thighs. She turns around and leans back against the glass, breathing heavily. You step forward and press yourself against her, bringing your lips to hers and kissing her deeply - not so much a kiss of passion or of lust, but one of appreciation. It was your half-hearted way of apologizing for not paying as much attention to her as she deserved, not that she minded.

“Fuck, that was hot,” she gasps, still breathing heavily. Her shirt is still undone, and you couldn’t help but watch as her bra-clad breasts heaving up and down as she catches her breath.

Seolhyun catches on to the look you are giving her, and she reaches up to your cheek.

“Now that the distraction is over, you can stop pretending you’re fucking her,” she whispers, “and you can start fucking me.”

She reaches up and lets her green blouse fall from her shoulders, then reaches behind her to undo her bra, letting it fall to the floor. She falls to her knees, and with her small hands she grasps your shaft, still slick with her own juices and your cum, and gives it a lick from top to bottom.

Seolhyun soon has you at full hardness, and you want to focus on her, want to give her the attention she deserves. For a second you look down and watch as she takes your now fully hard cock in and out of her wet, warm mouth. Seolhyun had the body of a goddess, and you knew the coming minutes would be pleasurable in the extreme, especially now that you could focus on her and not someone else. You want to give her the fucking she deserved, undistracted by what was going on in the next room.

But all you can think of is the young woman in the interrogation room. Nayeon gathers up her files and notepad, and with one last look at you, she leaves.

---

Author’s Note: Trying something new here with the voyeur thing, and I have to admit it was more fun than I thought it would be. Let me know what you all think :)

#kpop fanfiction #kpop fanfic #kpop smut #pov smut #male reader #twice nayeon #im nayeon #aoa seolhyun #kim seolhyun

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