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irrelevantwriter · 3 years

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Embracing Misery

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) x Female Reader/You

Rating: Explicit, NSFW

Warnings: Language, unprotected vaginal sex, mention of bodily fluids, funny Rio (he got jokes), secret feelings (bc I love to torture my characters)

Word Count: 3.6K

Summary: Part 3. Rio returns and you decide to take some initiative.

A/N: Thank you guys so much for all the love and support on these Rio fics! It truly means so much and I am so glad you’re enjoying them. I now bring you part three of a saga that was not at all planned, but has somehow happened anyway. I blame the Rio haze I’m still very much in and my zero chill tendencies. If you guys haven't read parts one and two, then I recommend doing so, for plot purposes. I have some more things planned for this duo so we’ll see what my muse brings. Until then, I hope you guys like it. Feedback is that good shit. 💗

*Read Part 1 here

*Read Part 2 here

*Read Part 4 here

*Give and Take series masterlist

*Masterlist in bio.

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It was early.

The house was blessedly quiet while your children stayed at their father’s house for the weekend. You soaked up the stillness of the early morning sun rays and crisp, cool air. They washed over you, as if cleansing what the previous night’s sleep hadn’t. You missed your kids like crazy while they were away, but the mornings alone were priceless. It was a time for you to prepare for the day. A luxury you hadn’t been afforded since before the kids were born. But now...now you got to take it all in. Enjoy the serenity.

Or so you thought.

You tied the sash of your robe as you opened the front door, preparing to grab the morning paper, but as soon as you turned the knob you knew what would be waiting on the other side. Something told you he was there. You didn’t need to look out onto the street to see the familiar sleekness of a dark tinted luxury car. You could feel him. Feel his eyes on you as you bent down to get the paper and turned, leaving the front door wide open.

Rio had been gone for nearly two months. You hadn’t seen or spoken to the man in that long. Not even a text message, though the thought had crossed your mind on more than one occasion. You had no idea where he’d been or what he’d been doing while he was away, but you’d had no choice but to conduct business as usual. Mick had been your contact, times and places for drop-offs exactly as Rio had set them up. It was as if he was still running things from wherever he was. As if he could somehow see you without actually seeing you.

During his time away you’d done nothing but think of when he’d return. You teetered on the edge of worry and longing as your thoughts raced between concern for your boss slash lover to outright arousal. You’d spent more than one night thinking about his hands on your body while yours tried desperately to replicate his touch. It would get the job done, but it was nothing compared to that gentle slide of hand or gravelly voice that sent literal shivers up your spine. Your body had missed him. And you had come to the realization that you did too.

You walked into your kitchen, hearing the click of the front door as he passed through the threshold. You went straight for the humming coffee pot, grabbing two mugs from the cabinet.

“Coffee?” You asked over your shoulder, not at all surprised to hear the shakiness in your voice.

“Sure.”

Your entire body thrummed to life at that solitary sound. You hadn’t even laid eyes on him yet and already your thighs were clenching together. Your nipples hardened against the thin fabric of your tank top, your black robe barely concealing the reaction. You poured the coffee with unsteady hands, preparing yourself to face him once again.

When you turned around, you were greeted with a familiar smirk and a magnificent throat tattoo. A tattoo that you’d missed. He looked exactly the same. Same dark button-up. Same dark jeans. Same intense eyes. Same addictive swagger. It all came together to seduce you into a trance. A trance you’d fallen victim to in the past. It was a fog of uncertainty and lust. It was powerful. Merciless. And you couldn’t stop it from taking you hostage if you tried. So...you embraced it.

You slid the mug of coffee across the kitchen island towards him, a gesture that had you experiencing déjà vu. He accepted it and the sugar you offered. You watched as he dressed his beverage. Two spoonfuls of sugar. No milk or cream. He stirred it and then sipped, nodding in approval at the taste. The entire display was odd...domestic even.

His eyes trailed over your body before coming to rest on your face.

“Did you miss me, mama?” He asked cheekily, white teeth on display. They bit sensually into his bottom lip, the action making warmth seep deep into your bones.

You laughed. You’d missed the banter. Missed his blatant want for you. It was a cruel punishment to take away someone’s drug of choice. Rio just so happened to be yours. And you’d been experiencing withdrawals for the last two months. You desperately needed a hit. Needed something to take the edge off.

“Hardly.” You quipped, smiling so that he could see the lie clearly written on your face.

He only stared back. The action was still unnerving.

You turned to pour your own cup of coffee, feeling his gaze ghost across your back. You busied yourself with adding cream and sugar, the clang of the spoon against ceramic the only sound reverberating throughout the house. You took a few cursory sips, testing the temperature of the liquid. It was hot. Too hot. But you drank it anyway.

Turning around to face Rio once again, you were surprised to find the spot across the island empty. Your eyes darted around the immediate area, catching a glimpse of him lounging on your sofa. The same sofa he’d fucked you against. Along with the kitchen island.

You left your drink behind, bare feet walking with a purpose across the cold wood floors. You rounded the sofa and took him in. One leg was crossed over the other, his mug resting against his knee as he steadied it with one hand. His free arm extended along the back of the couch, taking up a fair amount of space on the piece of furniture.

He was a picture of comfort and ease. Looking as if he belonged there. You supposed in that moment, he did.

You observed him for a long time. Long enough for his face to grow serious as he stared up at you. A myriad of emotions swirled within you. All of them seemed to be conflicting. They pushed and pulled in various directions, telling you what you should do while others persuaded you to do what you wanted to do. In the end none of it mattered. You’d already sold your soul to the devil long before you got into bed with him. It was time to accept that.

You wordlessly reached for his drink, moving the mug onto the coffee table. He let you, uncrossing his legs and watching you with a sharp eye. You grasped for the knot that held your robe together and pulled the two ends apart, feeling the material start to give way. It fell open to reveal the tank top and shorts you wore underneath. It was a far cry from lingerie, but it sent the same message. You wore no bra, an obvious fact as his eyes hungrily took you in. Your shorts were cut high, practically underwear and exposing more leg than you would’ve normally felt comfortable with. The robe fell from your shoulders and into a heap at your feet.

You swallowed, feeling the butterflies in your stomach begin to take flight. You focused on him. You focused on the way he looked at you. And how he made you feel. You let that be your guide as you pulled your top up and over your head. The garment joined the robe on the floor as you moved on to your shorts, pulling them down and letting them slide along your thighs. You were left in your demure cotton panties. You were only slightly embarrassed by their modesty, but Rio showed no inclination that he was put off. In fact, his mouth twitched, his lower half shifting against the couch.

You looped your fingers into the waistband of the cotton and pushed them down, baring yourself completely. He’d never seen you naked. Your previous trysts had been rushed with clothes shifted aside and out of the way in frenzied yearning. It’d never been thought out before. And now, here you were standing naked in your own living room, seducing the man you were sure wanted to kill you about as much as he wanted to fuck you.

It was exhilarating.

“What’re you doing?” Rio rasped, gaze locked with yours. His voice was low and tinged with desire. He looked equal parts amused and perplexed, and the thought of him trying to be a gentleman in your current state of undress only made your need for him strengthen.

“Sshh...” You soothed, stepping between his spread legs and straddling his lap.

His hands immediately gripped around your waist, the touch of his bare flesh against yours sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. You kissed him, hands sliding up his chest and resting on the buttons of his shirt. He reciprocated your eagerness, lips moving with yours. Your tongue reached out to taste him and he accepted, his hands kneading the flesh of your ass in approval. Your lower body writhed in his lap, feeling the firm muscle resting beyond his zipper.

You longed to feel his skin against yours. To feel the proof of life beat against your own chest. To feel close to him in a way you hadn’t thus far. Your fingers moved swiftly to grant you the sensation you craved. You unfastened each button, pulling his shirt apart and gliding your palms over the smooth muscle of his chest. His hips thrust up into yours restlessly as you explored his upper body. Your lips had yet to detach from each other, completely lost in reuniting. Your nails lightly grazed down his chest and abdomen, feeling him reciprocate the action by nibbling your lip.

His touch scorched your skin, roaming freely. He cupped your heaving breasts, mouth moving to your neck as he attacked your skin with kisses. You threw your head back in blessed relief and pleasure, finally feeling as if you could breathe again. You maneuvered your hands between your bodies, aiming for his belt buckle. You were impatient. Unable to wait for him to fill you. You’d waited long enough. The abundance of slickness that slid from your walls could attest to that.

“Mmmm...” He growled against your neck when you finally pulled him free, your palm easily smoothing over the hard length. His hips rutted into your touch, his own impatience showing.

You moaned when his lips attached to a nipple and sucked. He tortured you with sensations, bouncing between gentle and unyielding. His mouth was hot and wet against your flesh, encouraging your arousal to new heights. You craved more.

Again you took the initiative and lifted your hips, angling his length to fit against your weeping slit. He pulled away from your chest and took you in, watching as you slowly impaled yourself on his cock. Your lips parted as you engulfed him, your breathing accelerating with every inch he filled you. It’d been too long and your body was taut, clenching around him in such a way that let him know just how much you’d missed his touch.

“Fuck…” He groaned when you finally bottomed out, your thighs flush with his. His fingers gripped your hips, his body completely still and waiting for you to move. His brow was furrowed, his lips pouted as he took in measured breaths. He almost looked in pain as you sat unmoving atop him. The notion pleased you.

You moaned when he shifted, his cock nudging your womb. You couldn’t prolong the torture anymore and began to swirl your hips, your palms flat against his chest. It was a new dynamic for you both. Being able to control the moment with him was not something you were used to. His demanding nature was something you secretly loved, but having him at your mercy like this was so much better. You could see every pass of ecstasy on his face. Feel it in the way he twitched inside you. It was addicting.

His calloused hands massaged your breasts as you rode him, his dark eyes glazed over with lust but still holding you captive. He slid along your walls, stretching and filling you to capacity. You only got wetter at the feel of him, the slickness so overwhelming that he almost fell from your tight clutches. You used his shoulders for leverage as you moved, your pace increasing, desperate to come undone with him.

“Damn...yeah, just like that.” Rio exhaled, hands encouraging your hips to keep their speed.

He licked his lips as you bounced, flesh slapping as you fucked yourself. You watched with heavy-lidded eyes as he sucked his thumb into his mouth and then attached it to your clit, rubbing the swollen flesh in sensual circles. You arched your back and whimpered, feeling the tendrils of climax begin to latch on.

“I’m gonna cum.” You confessed, feeling your skin slicken with perspiration. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he continued his assault on your clit, your teeth biting into your bottom lip to keep the moans at bay.

“Do it, mama.” He throatily demanded, leaving no room for argument.

“C-cum...with me.” You pleaded between breaths. He nipped at the underside of your chin and you swore you could feel his smirk against your flesh.

He didn’t waste another second.

You held on as Rio’s hips met yours, his cock hitting your cervix with a brutality that had you seeing stars. Your muscles spasmed from the inside out, your limbs locking as you came. Your walls clamped around him in stuttering patterns, giving him no other option but to feel it all. You held him to you as you shook, feeling yourself dripping down your thighs and his length. He continued to fuck you through it, his control now waning. He buried his face into your chest and neck, holding you just as tightly as he repeatedly thrust up into you.

“Inside me...please.” You found yourself begging, exhausted from your own euphoria but still wanting to feel him release deep within you. It was a sensation you thrived on. It meant he was real. That he wasn’t a figure in the night or a lone man with a gun. He’d been inside you. Painted your walls in him. Claimed you. And you wanted to feel that for as long as you could.

“You want it?” He grunted against your neck, hands digging so hard into your ass that the area would surely be sore afterwards. It was welcomed after his prolonged absence. Just another clue that he’d been there.

“Please…” You whimpered, uncaring that you sounded so desperate.

He said nothing in return. Only thrust harder as he finally came. He held you still against him, ensuring not a drop of his cum left your joined bodies. You reveled in the warmth that suddenly filled you, spreading your thighs wider across his lap. His teeth dragged along your collarbone, eliciting a shiver from you.

It was quiet for a moment, your labored breathing slowly steadying with the beating of your heart. You were pressed against his bare chest, his hands now smoothing across your flesh rather than gripping it. The sensation nearly put you to sleep.

“So you missed me then?” Rio teased, his voice raspier than normal.

You sat up straight, looking down into his eyes that were glinting back at you with boyish arrogance. You cracked a smile and shook your head.

“I’m not answering that.”

“You didn’t have to, darling.” He whispered, face growing serious as he tenderly shifted the few strands of hair that stuck to your forehead.

Laughter bubbled in your throat suddenly, effectively cutting through the moment. His fingers drifted to your lips, tracing them as you broke into a smile.

“Somethin’ funny?” He asked, an eyebrow raised. His own lips quirked up at the sound of your tired giggles, your body shaking above him.

“We haven’t made it to a bed yet.” You said between laughs, pulling his hand from your mouth and resting it on your cheek instead. You held onto his forearm, the sinewy muscle feeling sturdy under your touch.

“There’s still time.” He retorted with a sly smile, his eyes taking in your face in a careful study. The intensity of it was almost enough to make you feel bashful.

You were lost in the moment, ready to let him take you again when a knock at the front door sounded. You scrambled up, hearing a key in the knob.

“Fucking Paul.” You cursed as you grabbed your discarded robe and hastily tied the sash. “Get dressed.” You ordered Rio, that smug smirk still planted firmly on his lips.

You moved past him and through the dining room to the front door, seeing your ex shuffle through the door with a baseball bag thrown over his shoulder. Your son’s bag. He must’ve forgotten something for his game today.

“You mind?” You snapped at him, throwing a quick glance behind you to ensure he couldn’t see Rio through the entryway.

“Well, I called but you didn’t answer. Figured you were still asleep.” Paul supplied with a nonchalant shrug.

“You couldn’t wait until I actually answered the door instead of using a key? A key I was sure I got back from you.”

He rolled his eyes, not making any move to return the item.

Bastard.

“What’re you doing here, Paul?”

“Anthony forgot his mitt. Needs it for the game today.”

You inwardly rolled your eyes, both at your ex and your son. They were mirror images of each other and that extended to their forgetfulness.

You walked to the entryway bench and lifted the pillow, knowing it would be stuck there because that’s where Anthony always left his gear after a game.

“Here.” You said shortly, thrusting the glove over to him. The sooner he got it, the sooner he’d be gone.

The universe was a cruel bitch though.

A shuffling from behind you pulled both yours and Paul’s attention. You tensed as Rio rounded the corner, clothes neatly tucked back into place. He eyed your ex for a long moment, making both you and Paul uncomfortable.

“I-uh...this-,” You stumbled over your words, at a loss for how to proceed. “He was just checking on some things around the house.” You lamely offered.

“What things?” Paul threw back with a raised brow, obviously not buying your answer.

“Just taking a look at her pipes.” Rio quipped, making you cough.

The air was awkward and tense as the two men sized each other up. You could see the suspicion in Paul’s eyes as he took in Rio’s very notable tattoo. Paul’s gaze flicked to yours, attempting to read your face. You opened your mouth to cut through the silence, but Rio beat you to it.

“I gotta go. I’ll be in touch.” He said, facing you and biting his lip. The action was purposeful. A signal of sorts.

You nodded and crossed your arms, watching with bated breath as he walked past Paul. He stared at the man as if he was a nuisance, giving him a quick once over before chuckling and exiting out the door. You released a sigh of relief once the door latched, your shoulders easing now that he’d left. A wave of disappointment followed. You were hoping to spend more time with him before he ultimately disappeared again. You were sure you’d see him at your next drop off now that he was back, but that was still days away. And you’d be damned if you reached out to the man for anything other than business-related topics.

You’d just have to wait.

“Friend of yours?” Paul interrupted your thoughts, face twisted in disapproval.

“He was here to check the pipes. They were making a weird noise. Wanted to make sure they didn’t freeze over.” You explained, your attitude back in full force.

“Sure.” He replied flatly, eyes belatedly taking in your state of undress. “You should put some decent clothes on when you have strange men in the house.”

The chastising tone of his voice made you see red. It was one of the reasons you’d divorced him. Along with the infidelity. And his tendency to be an egotistical piece of shit. Your reaction was a completely different reaction to Rio’s reprimands. Rio made you feel alive...desired. Paul’s goal was to always control and make you feel less than. He’d lost that fight throughout your marriage, but that didn’t stop him from continuing to do so long after it’d ended.

“You need to go.” You demanded between clenched teeth, opening the door for him and gesturing him out.

He took the hint and walked outside to the porch, shaking his head as he did.

“The kids wanted all of us to go out to dinner. Including Erica.” He said as he turned to face you, hand held to the door that you were ready to slam in his face.

You fought the urge to scoff at the mention of his fiancé and instead nodded, a pleasant smile on your lips and pure hate in your heart.

“Sure. Text me details. I’ve gotta go before this cum running down my leg stains the carpet.”

Paul’s face was priceless. And you had the pleasure of slamming the door in it. You smiled victoriously to yourself. The unexpected visit wasn’t so bad after all.

Your two worlds were getting harder to keep separated. That was apparent after the debacle that just took place. Rio was a significant presence in your life. And it was in more than just a working relationship way. That was obvious now. But were you really ready to let that happen? To let him in? The answer was still no. It would always be no. But sleeping with your boss had to have some benefits. And you were willing to find out exactly what those were. Misery and all.

#rio #rio good girls #good girls rio #rio imagine #rio x you #rio x reader #rio fanfiction #rio fanfic #nbc good girls #good girls nbc

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fanfic-me-up · 4 years

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Capture This! || Kaminari Denki

Synopsis: You walk in on Denki, your best friend of five years, getting off. Two questions: Why is there a picture of you? And why do you want him to take more?

Pairing: Kaminari Denki x fem!reader

Warnings: M/E+, 18+, explicit sexual content

Word Count: 6k+

A/N: This is for the @bnhabookclub bingo event! Thank you @shoutogepi and @im-here-for-the-heroes for beta reading. Shout out to @whats-her-quirk this fic was born from me poppin in during your thirst hours lol

“Lotion? Check. Tissues? Check. Pictures?”

Denki swallows.

“Check.”

It’s routine for Denki, really the only ritual he sticks to in his otherwise scatterbrained schedule of kickin’ ass, chilling with friends, and playing Fortnite till ungodly hours of the morning.

But he can’t help it. You’re fucking gorgeous, and Denki has needs - his brain programmed to get off at least three times a day else he can’t function. The first time it happened, he felt a deep sense of shame, twisting his gut, disgusted with himself that he defiled your image. He couldn’t look you in the eye for a week until you had enough and demanded to know what was up. It was the first time he lied to you.

But one time became two, and three, and suddenly Denki needed an image of you all the time. The one of you looking all pretty in that stupid summer dress was his favorite. You bought it that one time you dragged him to the mall because you needed a “guy’s opinion.” He rushed to the bathroom because if he didn’t get out fast, he was gonna drag you back into the changing room and rip that dress off himself.

You’re adorable, hot, sexy, and absolutely terrifying, wrapped up in one perfect package.

Oh, and did he forget to mention?

Totally off-limits.

This is why Denki has to resort to hanging out with you, listening to you vent about your boy problems, and how you just want to meet “the one” already. Denki’s heart breaks a little more every time you shove him deeper into the friend zone, all the while pretending like he didn’t just jerk it to you a couple hours before.

He works his hand up and down his shaft, growing harder by the second with each stroke. It doesn’t take much to get him going, not when it’s you. You’re wearing his hoodie, toes buried in the sand, roasting a marshmallow in front of a bonfire. You’re smiling at something Kirishima said, Denki doesn’t remember what, because all he could see was the light in your eyes. A genuine spark lit only when the cameras were off, and you were unaware of anyone watching. Denki loved witnessing these rare moments; wanted to commit it to memory, so he did. When you posted the picture on Instagram, Denki was more than surprised; you had scrunched your nose when he showed you the picture, displeased with how you looked.

This should not be happening. Any normal person would feel ashamed when staring at a picture of their best friend and touching themselves. No one knew about it, and Denki was surprised he was able to keep it a secret for this long considering he’s friends with fucking Mina of all people.

Enough pre-cum bubbles at the tip that he doesn’t even need the lotion. Staring at you on the screen, wearing his hoodie that’s way too big it covers your thighs completely, makes his mind wander to all sorts of ways he wishes he could get you out of that hoodie. He leans back into the chair, spreading his legs with his eyes half-lidded, imagining what your lips might look like wrapped around his cock.

“Fuck yeah...”

Groaning at the image of you on your knees, lips bruised and slicked with spit from fucking your pretty little mouth has Denki tightening his fist, hips fucking into his hand in a continuous rhythm.

He’s on the verge of coming when the door swings open - the first and last person Denki wants to walk in is standing there in front of him.

“Hey, I called, but you didn’t - ah!” You squeak, throwing the box you’re holding. A sea of random knick-knacks and hero merch rains over you. You hear a thump when the yellow polaroid camera you bought for Denki at a thrift shop hits the floor.

“Fuck!” Denki jumps from his chair, an array of pens fall in a heap to the floor.

You whip your head away, heat spikes your body, embarrassed that you saw your best friend in such a compromising position.

Denki mutters a repeated “shit shit shit” to himself for a good minute before he finally addresses you; his voice rising with each word.

“How did you get in here!?”

“Spare key, dumbass!”

“That’s for emergencies only!”

“Are you talking to me with your dick out!?”

Silence.

“No?”

You huff at the uncertainty in his tone. It’s only two o’clock, and you can already feel a migraine coming on.

“Denki, if I turn around and you’re not covered, so help me god I will-”

“Okay, okay, I got it. Pants are zipped.”

You don’t move until you hear the confirming “zip” before slowly opening your eyes (you have no idea why your eyes were closed in the first place), and you turn around to find Denki leaning against the desk. He’s trying his best to appear casual, but the flush on his face and frazzled hair give away what he was doing moments before you walked in. You don’t know where it comes from, but the thought alone stirs something inside you.

The confusing emotion is replaced by hot-blooded anger when you lock eyes on the screen behind him.

“Is that my face!?”

Denki’s smile drops as he turns around. Dammit. Of course, he forgot to close the tab.

“Uhhh…”

He has no words, none, not when you’re standing there with that intense look in your eyes you get when you’re about to rip someone a new one. Your anger could rival Bakugou’s, and Denki has unfortunately been in the middle of one too many screaming matches. He’s surprised his eardrums aren’t blown out by now.

He clicks to exit out, or at least he thinks he does until he comes to the dumb realization that he’s clicking the zoom button instead.

“Ho-hold on, let me just…”

With each click, it zooms a little more into your face until only your nose is in the frame. Denki sheepishly looks up at you.

“Oops?”

Denki’s had a good life. He’s already come farther than most ever dream in their career when becoming a pro-hero, and he’s made some amazing friends most spend years trying to find. The only regret of his is not confessing his true feelings to you, but really what’s one regret? He’s totally a-okay with saying goodbye to this cruel, cruel world if it meant not being subjected to this torture any longer.

“Denki Kaminari.”

Denki gulps. Oh no. You only say his full name when you mean business.

“Explain right this instant or I will walk out this door and tell the whole world how you and grape boy took body shots off cardboard cutouts of each other!”

“Hey! We were really fuckin’ drunk and thought it might score us some pity sex with the ladies!”

“In what world would you licking fuckin’ Mineta equal oh yeah, fuck me, Denki?”

Denki cowers with each step you take, gulping down the lump in his throat when your face is close enough to hold in his hands. He’s never been more simultaneously turned on and terrified in his life. Especially when he just heard the words “fuck me, Denki” escape your lips.

Don’t look down. Don’t look down. Whatever you do. Don’t. Look. Down.

The last thing he wants is you flinging him out the window because he couldn’t keep his eyes on your face. Don’t get him wrong; he could look at your face forever, even when you look like your one move away from killing him. But… he’s a dude, and there’s boobs in front of him, not to mention your boobs.

“Hello? Earth to Denki?” You wave your hand in his face.

“You may wanna sit down for this.”

“I’m fine where I am, thank you very much.”

He huffs out a breath, annoyed you didn’t take the bait. The suggestion was more for his sanity than yours. With you standing so close, his brain is going haywire; the tantalizing scent of strawberries and cream short-circuiting his brain quicker than when he overuses his quirk. It never fails to make his mouth water, if only he could bend down and bury his nose in the crook of your neck, god, he’d never let you go.

How does he even begin to work through the feelings he has for you when they’ve been bottled up since the moment he knew he was in deep? Where does he start?

The fact he’s been in love with you for the past five years?

Or that he’s been getting off to you for half that time?

Denki’s mind is running a mile a minute, like a computer in overdrive. He can’t make enough sense of his emotions to convert into words. But, instead of waiting to open his mouth, like a normal person, Denki spews out embarrassing word vomit that connects his two thoughts.

“I love getting off to you.”

A pin could drop, and it’d be as loud as a freaking hurricane.

Denki groans in frustration, facepalming his forehead. What the hell did he just say, and can he take it back? How long would it take for him to hack into a database and find someone with a time manipulation quirk? He doesn’t even know how to hack, but he’d wrangle his one brain cell and fucking learn if that’s what it takes.

He’s usually good at reading you. You’re one of the few people he cares enough to pick up on how you’re feeling. The myriad of emotions that pass on your face from shock to confusion to a hint of amusement lets Denki know he can breathe easy. At least you’re not trying to kill him anymore.

“Oh-kay that’s not what I - what I meant to say was - hold on, lemme just, rewind.”

He makes some weird, loopy gesture with his arms. His brain was firing a million synapses at once, each connected to a different thought, some deep like the fear of losing you and some not so deep - like he’s really excited to eat the cheeseburgers Bakugou promised he’d grill tonight.

But he tries his best to reign in the million and one thoughts to focus on you, who’s waiting for an explanation. He takes a deep breath to steady his heart that’s about to beat out of his chest. He only hopes you don’t stomp on it after what he’s about to say.

“I’m in love with you, Y/N. I have been since our first year at U.A. I wanted to tell you for the longest time, but then you got with Bakugou. Then you broke up, and you needed a friend more than ever, and how could I say no to being ‘your best bro’ when you were crying on my shoulder? It was just never the right time.”

The more he rambled, the more uncomfortable he felt. Out of all the scenarios he imagined of how he’d confess to you, this one was at the bottom of his list to be prepared for. He never expected to be forced into confessing because you caught him masturbating to pictures of you. He rubs the back of his neck and gives an awkward laugh when you stay silent.

“I get it if you wanna, like, shun me forever or something. I deserve it for being such a creep.”

Denki lowers his head to the floor, the clutter of fallen pens and knick-knacks looks way less intimidating than staring into your eyes. A soft hand touches his chin, lifting his face to meet yours.

“Hey, look at me, it’s okay.”

Your voice does wonders for soothing the nerves shaking him up.

“I guess it’s not that creepy when you put it like that, and for some weird reason, you’re like the one person I can catch jacking off to my pictures, and I don’t feel the need to report you as a registered sex offender.”

It’s meant to be reassuring, but Denki’s heart drops at the idea of you labeling him as the neighborhood perv.

“Please, don’t do that,” he squeaks before clearing his throat, “But for real, Y/N, I’m so sorry. It’s wrong to disrespect you like that, and I promise I won’t do it again.”

Denki has no idea how he’s gonna get off now, but that’s his future self’s problem.

“I can’t help it, you’re gorgeous, and I love ya, and I don’t remember the last time I got laid.”

Fuck. He didn’t mean to say that last part, but it’s the truth. You’re the reason he couldn’t even look at another girl, because they weren’t you, and that’s why he had to resort to pulling up pictures of you. Pictures that aren’t normally deemed “sexy” and of you dressed modestly, without much skin showing.

That doesn’t stop Denki from coming in record time with your name rolling off his lips every time.

“How bad do you want me?”

You’d be lying if you said you weren’t the least bit curious about what sex with your best friend would be like. You heard he wasn’t a bad lay from a couple girls back at U.A.

You’d also be lying if you didn’t say you were just as horny as said best friend.

It’s difficult finding time to date as a pro-hero. When you do, it doesn’t last very long anyway - the other person growing tired of always coming second to your career. Don’t even get you started on one night stands. They’re practically impossible to uphold as once the media gets wind of it, you’re slapped on the cover of “Hero Times Magazine,” and everyone and their mother is calling for you to “spill the tea.” This is why pro-heroes either end up with other pro-heroes or end up alone.

Denki’s eyebrows shoot straight to his hairline. If someone were to tell him you were attracted to him in any sense of the word, his heart would double-time it, but he’d ultimately brush it off. He knew your type, and he could not be farther from it. The aggressive, beefy, gym rat who could match you move for move in a heated spar of harsh words and hot-blooded passion. You dated Bakugou for fuck’s sake! There was no hope for Denki after that.

But he’ll be damned if he doesn’t take what he can get. The words pour out of him like the dam’s been broken and the unforgiving flood rushes.

“I want you so bad, Y/N, fuck, I’ve waited so long, so fucking long, you don’t know how crazy you make me.”

Your breath catches. His words have an unexpected effect on you, but your heart drums in anticipation. If you listen close enough, you can hear Denki’s beating at the same rate, waiting for what you’re going to say next. Power surges through you. In your past relationships, sex was always seen as this competition. Your exes never wanted to relinquish their pride or control, but Denki is nothing like your exes. He’s laid-back, always cracking jokes, and never dwelling too much on the past, always moving forward to the next moment. He’s perfectly fine with letting you take the reins most of the time. You determine what will happen next.

“You love getting off to me?”

It’s a rhetorical question, but he answers in earnest.

“You’re the only one I get off to.”

You slide your dress off, and it falls to the floor.

“Show me.”

Denki’s eyes travel over your body, his mouth slightly open in disbelief at your undressed state. He wants to capture this moment in case this is as much as he gets, even if he can never use this mental picture because he promised you he wouldn’t. His fingers itch to brush along the lace trim of your bra, to graze along your nipple, and watch your reaction. Are you sensitive enough where you’d full on moan, or would he have to strain to catch the small hitch of breath? Denki was never top of his class. He preferred to wing it and hope for the best, but for you, he’d take his time to study every inch and crevice of your body until he could read you cover to cover with his eyes closed. His gaze travels down to the matching lace panties you wear, a cute little bow in the front waiting to be untied with his teeth.

Did you plan to get fucked today? Or do you usually wear matching sets on the regular?

Your skin looks so soft and supple, he’s aching to dig his fingers, but before he can, you step away. Denki cocks his head. Have you changed your mind? But any doubt leaves Denki when you make your way across the room to sit down on the edge of the bed.

You start with feather-light touches dancing along your collarbone. Your eyes are locked on Denki, getting high on the way he drinks in your every move. Your touches are teasing, especially when your finger dips down to your cleavage. Still, instead of giving Denki what he wants, you change course, making your way back to your shoulders. Denki exhales a breath at your teasing, but says nothing, too afraid he’ll ruin the mood if he says something stupid.

When you make your way down again, you don’t disappoint; you pinch your nipple through your bra, and the way Denki swipes his tongue over his lip has heat rushing to your core. You slide your hand down your stomach, stopping when you reach your clothed slit. Denki stares, hungry and buzzing in anticipation for what you’ll do next. Smirking in victory, you spread your legs open and pull your panties to the side, giving him the view to capture the perfect picture of your dripping pussy.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.”

You taunt breathlessly, tracing your folds with your fingers.

Oh shit. Were you for real? Please, tell him you were for real because he legit might cry if this was some elaborate prank. Where are the fucking cameras?

“You don’t want to?” You bite your lip, insecurity seeping through the confident smile you wore just a moment ago.

“No! I mean - yes! Yes, I do, holy shit, let me find - where the fuck is…” Denki whips around, trying to find his phone. Fuck! Out of all the times to misplace it, it has to be now. But then he spots the yellow polaroid camera sitting on the floor, and before he can think, he’s picking it up and praying it has film. He kneels, so he’s eye level with your pussy, but also making sure the angle gets your whole body in the frame. The light streaming in gives you an ethereal look, your skin glowing, and adding to the cute flush on your cheeks. The camera clicks, and a second later, the picture slides out. You giggle at Denki’s impatience. He’s waving the picture frantically in the air, so the color comes through faster. He completely stills when he can finally take a good look at the beauty he’s captured.

“Fuck, Y/N, you look…”

Denki can’t control the groan that escapes. He looks back up at you, eyes darkened with lust before he’s ripping his shorts off so fast, his foot gets caught, and he almost trips in the process. Once he’s out of them, he plops back down in the chair across the room. You’re surprised when all you feel is pure, unadulterated lust. You expected to be at least a little bit weirded out staring at your best friend’s cock, but all you want is to put it in your mouth and explore all the different ways you can make him come. The tip is oozing pre-cum already, and the way he works his hand with a sense of urgency suggests he’s been hard for a while. It doesn’t take long before you hear Denki grunt.

“Fuck, I’m close.”

You look so pretty spread out for him. For the last five years, he wanted nothing more than to see you like this. His hips jerk up, and he throws his head back, but he makes sure to keep his eyes open like his life depended on it; he didn’t want to miss a second of this. You, with your legs wide open giving him a view of your perfect little pussy. Your panties soaked by you rubbing your clit mercilessly, and your pupils blown wide as you watch your best friend get off to the show you’re giving him. It’s erotic as hell, completely different from the pictures Denki has of you. This one easily tops all the others. He tightens his fist - he doesn’t want it to end without feeling your skin on his at least once.

“Let me touch you, Y/N, please, I just wanna touch you, need to feel you.”

Denki doesn’t give a fuck that he’s begging at this point. He’s waited too damn long to care about pride or dignity, not when the chance to fuck you is placed in his shaking hands. You bite your lip to suppress a moan, but it comes out anyway.

“Touch me.”

That’s all Denki needs. Before you know it, you’re pushed down on the bed, and lips smash against yours. He’s eager, a little too eager, shoving his tongue in your mouth and touching everywhere that he can. You don’t have much room to breathe, so you gently push at his chest.

“Chill, Denki.”

He huffs out a breath, muscles shaking like he’s restraining himself from overwhelming you.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,”

He mumbles, peppering kisses into your neck before making his way back to your lips. It’s much smoother this time, his tongue sliding out to tease your bottom lip, asking for permission this time. He groans when you open up for him, your tongue meeting his. Hands trail up until they reach around, resting on the clasp of your bra. Honey eyes meet yours, but you cut off his question.

“I’ll stop you if I need to, but you asking me if it’s okay every time you try something is gonna seriously kill the mood.”

You reach around to place your hands on top of his, unclasping your bra along with him. His eyes darken at the sight of your bare chest. You try not to squirm at the intensity of his gaze. It becomes near impossible when he dips down to flick his tongue over your nipple before biting with his teeth. He pays the same attention to the other one before kissing his way down your stomach. You arch your back when he spreads your legs and positions himself between them. He makes his way around, avoiding your dripping pussy, teasing your thighs with soft kisses. You huff in annoyance, and he smirks up at you, biting into the flesh of your thigh. This time he places a kiss to your heated center, enjoying the way you squirm under his touch.

“Is it everything you imagined?” You ask.

He looks up at you, with such a serious expression, one you’ve only seen a couple times since knowing him.

“Everything and more.”

Your heart flutters, and you know you’re going to say something you’ll regret if you don’t stop counting the different shades of gold in his eyes. You clear your throat before throwing your hair back.

“You gonna fuck me, or am I gonna have to do it myself?”

You pull his head in for a demanding kiss, biting on his lip to distract yourself from the rush of bubbling emotions threatening to surface.

“One sec,” Denki whispers, placing one last kiss to your lips, before getting up.

You gape at the giant box of condoms he casually pulls out. It hasn’t been opened, and oh my god, you didn’t even know they made huge boxes like this. There were at least a hundred in there. What person thinks to buy a big box of condoms if their plans don’t include… fucking a whole ass army?

“What the fuck, Denki?”

People usually have one, maybe two condoms in their wallet at most. Some guys don’t have any at all, which kills the mood when you’re in the heat of the moment, so I guess you can be thankful that Denki is... extra prepared?

“What?”

He pulls a condom out and drops the box. It thumps when it hits the floor. You’re taken aback by how nonchalant he’s being about this.

“I- you- wha- How many times do you think we’re gonna do it!?”

Denki slides the condom on, smirking at your shocked expression.

“Till we finish this box,” he says as he slides into you.

You gasp at the stretch. He pushes to the hilt, and stays there when he notices the slight furrow of your brow. It has been a while since you’ve fucked, but soon enough, you crave more so you roll your hips, but he doesn’t move.

“Denki?”

His head is pressed into your neck, warm breath tickling your skin, and the stuttering heartbeat matches to the beat of your own.

“Just… gimme a minute, don’t wanna ruin it by coming in two seconds.”

His words are muffled, voice raspy with desire, and you can only imagine what his face looks like. It makes you want him all the more. Finally, someone who doesn’t see sex as an opportunity to one-up you or to put you in your place. It’s scary how the last twenty minutes have changed five years of friendship.

“Hey,” you hold his face in between your palms. He already looks completely fucked out with his face flushed and eyes glazed. You place a tender kiss to his lips, unlike the previous kisses you shared.

“You couldn’t ruin it even if you did come right now.”

You caress his hair in an attempt to reassure him.

“You’d just have to make it up to me,” you wink.

His smile is so pure, lighting up his eyes that’s unique to Denki; it makes your heart do somersaults in your chest. But the moment passes as the previous heat between you two spikes when Denki circles his hips, taking his time to feel you inside and out. He’s touching and kissing you wherever he can, your cheek, neck, chest, thighs, like it’s the first and last time he’ll experience you like this. It might very well be.

This thought doesn’t sit well with you.

Once he’s mapped out your sweet spots, he digs his fingers into your thighs and pulls your hips flush towards his. He pulls out of you until only the tip is brushing your opening and pounds back into you, taking your breath away. He pumps in and out of you faster, and you cry out when he hits that special spot deep inside of you.

“Denki,” you moan. He grunts and spreads your legs even wider, grabbing one and hauling it over his shoulder to pound into you deeper.

He’s getting close, hell, he’s been close even before you walked in.

“F-fuck…” Denki groans, thrusting at an uneven pace and feeling the familiar tightening in his groin.

Wrapping your legs around his waist, you flip him over and begin bouncing on his cock in a much more steady rhythm. Denki’s staring up at you, eyes wide in admiration.

You’re a goddess. An absolute fucking masterpiece that needs to be put in a museum for his eyes only. God, when did he get so fucking mushy? You always brought out different sides that Denki, himself, didn’t even know he had. He can’t keep his hands off you, grabbing your boobs, sliding down the curves of your thighs, gripping your ass. He wants to commit it all to memory in case he never gets to know this pleasure again.

“Y/N, ah, shit, I’m gonna...” he trails off, unable to finish his sentence.

He’s holding on to that sweet release for as long as he can. He’s been craving it since he met you on the first day of class at U.A. His balls tighten, unable to hold it in any longer, before he gives in to the long overdue orgasm. It hits him hard - his entire body tingling from head to toe like 1000 volts of electricity bolt through him. Denki had no idea he could come for this long, but he doesn’t want it to end - it feels so fucking good inside you. He rides it out for a couple more thrusts before he relaxes, completely sated. You try to pull off him, but he grabs your hips and forces you back down. You squeak, clearly not expecting him to care enough to help you out after he finished.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

The tone of his voice sounds foreign in his ears, too gruff and too deep, but you seem to have no problems with it as you moan in response, working yourself on top of him. Your thighs crush his hips, shaking with need as you seek a release of your own. You’re tired from bouncing, so you resort to grinding, swirling your hips deliciously around his cock. Denki squeezes your ass in appreciation.

“You close?”

“Close, so close, Denki, please…”

Your eyes well up with tears, desperate to finish; the coil in your stomach wound too tight that you might burst any second. Denki helps you by thrusting his hips to meet yours, his hand rubbing your clit. You jolt at the sudden zap to your clit, you look down to see a small spark leave Denki’s fingertip. He does it again, and you cry out, your pussy fluttering from the electrifying touch.

“C’mon, baby, you can do it, come for me.”

Fuck. Denki didn’t mean for the pet name to slip out, but then you’re moaning louder than before that Denki would’ve had to quiet you if you weren’t alone. Words are tumbling out before you can stop them.

“Oh, fuck, Denki, I love this so much, I love you, I-”

You slap your hand over your mouth. Denki’s eyes widen for a second before a dangerous glint takes over, and he wretches your hand away from your mouth.

“Lemme hear you. C’mon, Y/N, show me how much you love this.”

You hardly recognize the scream as your own; you flush at how loud you are, but Denki doesn’t seem to mind. It seems to spur him on. He sits up so your chest to chest before he bends down to tug at your nipple with his teeth. You throw your head back in pleasure, your hands coming around to grab at his hair. Golden eyes look up at you from your chest, a slight smirk curving his lips.

“I’m no photographer, baby girl, but I can sure as hell picture us together.”

Leave it to Denki Kaminari to make you come with a cheesy pickup line.

He gives one final thrust, balls slapping against your ass and hitting the spot deep inside you just right. Your thighs quiver from the pleasure wracking your body, a scream lodging out of your throat so loud that the people next door bang on the wall. You’re overwhelmed to the point that all you can do is rest your head on his shoulder, whispering his name in a broken whimper as you finish.

You fall next to him on the bed, sweaty and completely wiped, both of you trying to catch your breath. Denki tosses the condom in the trash while you stare at the ceiling, watching the fan swirl round and round. Your mind is no different at the moment, going round in circles, and you’re trying to catch up. Your body feels weightless, tingling all over and loving the high you didn’t think was possible. The bed shifts, and suddenly you’re faced with your best friend of five years. Before he can get a word out, the front door slams shut, and two very familiar, very masculine voices are down the hall, getting closer by the second.

“Kaminari, you lazy shit, get the fuck down here!”

“Shit!” Denki jumps from the bed, ruffling through the mess to find his pants.

“Denki, just lock the door! Hurry!”

It’s too late as the door swings open, and yeah… if today taught Denki anything, it’s that he really needs to lock his door more often. He doesn’t have time to think as he hops back into bed with you to avoid flashing any of his other friends today. Bakugou would probably threaten to chop his dick off and… yeah, Denki doesn’t wanna think about the rest.

You squeak and cover yourself with the blanket when you’re met with two sets of equally shocked crimson eyes.

Kirishima drops the bag of chips he’s holding. It seems like dropping things when walking into Denki’s room was a common theme today, and he’s sure as hell not looking forward to the cleanup. Denki regrets chancing a glance at Bakugou; nostrils flaring like a rabid predator on the loose and Denki’s his target.

The four of you stare at each other for who knows how long before Kirishima breaks out into a full-on grin.

“About time, bro, congrats!”

“Congrats?” You turn to Denki, confused.

“The fuck!? You bangin’ my ex, dunceface!?” Bakugou shouts.

“Please don’t hurt me!” Denki squeaks, hiding underneath the covers.

“Oi! You fuck like a man, you better fight like one, too!”

You roll your eyes, hardly affected by Bakugou’s exploding presence, unlike Denki, who is literally shaking beside you.

“Oh fuck off, Katsuki, listen to yourself. Keyword ex-girlfriend.”

Bakugou sputters, and Kirishima drags him by the shoulder.

“Don’t listen to him. He’s been in a mood since he found out he’s gonna be the next star of the Bachelor.”

“You wanna die too, shitty hair!?”

You and Denki burst out laughing at the absurdity of Katsuki forced to act like a gentleman on live TV. The image of Katsuki in a suit and tie, holding a rose and actually smiling, is comedic gold to you.

“C’mon, bro, let’s give ’em some space.”

“Oi! You’re on my shit list now! All of you! Aye! Get the fuck off me!”

Kirishima drags Bakugou the rest of the way, giving you a quick thumbs up on the way out.

You and Denki are still cracking up, but your laughter dies when they leave, and you’re faced with the tension from before. Denki sinks lower into the sheets, hating that he keeps getting walked in on. Who decided it was ‘make a fool out of Denki day’ anyway?

“So…” you start.

“So…” Denki finishes.

You both stare straight ahead at nothing.

“Did you mean it?”

You raise an eyebrow, clearly asking him to elaborate.

“What you said, when you... you know...” he makes a clicking noise with his mouth like that’s universal code for fucking, “Or was it just a heat of the moment thing?”

You take a moment to think before you give your response. You want to be as honest as possible, and not lead Denki on in any way. Of course, you loved him, he’s your best friend, but did you love him?

You think back on your friendship, and suddenly a supercut of all the times he was there for you flashes before your eyes. He was there when you needed someone to drive you when you had your wisdom teeth pulled out. You didn’t expect Denki to stay with you the whole weekend, buying you ice cream and watching your favorite movies, but he did.

He was there when you and Bakugou became an item, always listening to you swoon over how amazing a boyfriend he was. Denki would always respond with “But can he do this?” and would proceed to overuse his quirk like an overpowered Pikachu just to make you laugh. It sends a knife through your heart, knowing Denki was in love with you while you were talking about how great of a boyfriend his friend was. Not to mention how he was there when you and Bakugou broke up, heart-broken and vowing to swear off boys for good. Denki held you in his arms while you cried, staying silent the entire time, which you knew was against his nature. Denki was always there for you as a friend. There’s no doubt he’d be there for you as a lover.

“I meant it,” you say.

Tears threaten to spill, and your heart might burst out of your chest and land right into his hands. You hope he holds on to it forever. He squishes your cheeks and leans down to plant the softest kiss on your lips. This is what you’ve been missing - more like who you’ve been missing. You open your mouth to deepen the kiss, and he meets you move for move. He pulls away, hands still on your cheeks, grazing your cheekbones with his fingertips as he stares into your eyes.

“Denki, I…” You bite your lip, overcome with emotion. You desperately want to say the words to capture this picture-perfect moment forever.

Until you feel something poking your thigh.

“Denki!”

You yell, affronted he popped a boner in the middle of what was supposed to be a romantic moment.

“Sorry!”

“Ugh! Worst timing ever!” You slap his shoulder.

“Ow! I said I’m sorry!”

You wiggle out of his embrace. Silence eats at the room, and you can feel Denki’s energy radiating in uncomfortable frequencies. The last moment had been thoroughly ruined.

But you have all the time in the world to make more.

“... round two?”

Just seeing Denki’s face light up like Christmas is enough to promise the birth of a new moment. He bends over to grab his box of condoms, some spilling on the floor and adding more to the mess, before saying, “hell yeah!”

You roll your eyes with affection. What a weirdo, you think. But he’s your weirdo.

That night, or rather the next day since it was currently three in the morning, Denki plops down on his bed exhausted from the day. He’s fluffing his pillow, trying to get comfortable, when he feels something underneath. His eyes widen when he takes in the picture he’s holding. You must’ve taken it when he was downstairs and snuck it under his pillow. You’re bent over with that same damn lacy bra that sends him for a loop. Your cleavage deliciously on display as you bite your lip and stare at the camera with those innocent eyes. Denki can’t help it, his hand sliding down on instinct and cupping himself through his boxers. He turns the picture around and smiles at the cute little message written on the back.

“To add to your collection 😉”

#kaminari x reader #kaminari denki x reader #bnhabookclub #kaminari denki smut #bnha x reader #mha x reader #bnha smut #mha smut #kaminari denki #denki kaminari #denki kaminari x reader #bnha fanfic #mha fanfic #kaminari imagine #kaminari denki imagine #kaminari smut

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stripper-patrick · 3 years

Text

Heaven 🇫🇷Florian Munteanu

Warnings: language, smut, nsfw

Song- Streets: Doja Cat

Tags: @rebellious-desires @mrsbanreswillseeyou @eclecticblkgirl @designerwriterchic @bvssmob

Relationship: Florian Munteanu x black plus sized reader

My alarm goes off and I happily get up getting ready for our trip to Paris. I go to the bathroom wetting my face with warm water seeing as cold water just makes me mad. I exfoliate my face and lips before moving on to brush my teeth and swish some mouthwash.

I hop in the shower scrubbing, shaving, and exfoliating my body with my warm vanilla sugar scented soap from bath and body works. I rinse off the soap and step out applying coconut oil to my damp body then applying the matching warm vanilla sugar lotion to lock in the moisture. I’m black we gotta stay hydrated and mind out business.

I put on some deodorant and face moisturizer grabbing a black bra and some burgundy rhinestone Brazilian panties. I grab the outfit laid on my nearby chair and my Nike air 270’s. I sit at my vanity doing a light makeup look and adding some Vaseline for that shine affect on my lips. I decide to tie up my long braids in a cute little bun and I see my phone buzz. I swipe right and answer Florian’s call “good morning” I smile

“Good morning” my breath physically catches in my throat at his deep raspy morning voice. “Are you ready?”

“Yes I am”

“Oh and be sure to have something nice we’re going to brunch with my family”

“Oh ok” I nod. I did pack some fancy outfits because it’s Paris who wouldn’t but I know China hasn’t met his family yet. “So do you fight tonight?”

“No tomorrow. And we’ll be staying with my parents at their house”

“We’re not staying in a hotel?”

“No” he chuckles

“Ok then”

....

I park my car on a vacant lot seeing a singular airplane and Florian sitting on the steps. I get out and my jaw is dropped to the core of the earth.

“Hey baby girl” he jogs over hugging me and I’m too in shock to even acknowledge the nickname. I pop the trunk and grab my suitcase before he takes it from me “I could’ve got it”

“For what I’m here. You look good”

“Thank you” I smile “so you own this plane?”

“Kinda me and my brother went half on it. You’ll get to meet him later” he winks. Flo takes my luggage to the flight attendants and holds my hand leading me into the spacious red leather interior of the plane.

“This is dope Flo” I say

“Thank you” we sit across from each other and the flight attendant brings us champagne in a glass.

I take a sip and I can taste how expensive it is.

“So how long will this flight be?”

“About 12 hours” I sigh as we take off.

“Well how do we pass time?” He cocks up his eyebrow Suggestively and I smile.

...

“Ok how old were you when you lost your virginity?” I ask looking over. We’ve now moved next to each other giggling from the champagne.

“15” he answers. We’re playing a game of truth or strip. It’s simple. If you don’t wanna answer your truth you have to strip. Better than truth or dare. He has taken off his socks, shirt and watch and I took off my biker shorts and socks.

“Oh” I nod “if you had to choose between me and Brad Pitt to have sex with who would it be”

“Can I choose both?” I laugh

“Nope”

“Ok I would choose you” I laugh “I don’t know Brad like that or how good he is”

“How do you know I’m good in bed?” he leans getting closer.

“Aside from the details China tells me I can tell you know how to use what you got”

“What do you mean?” He smiles.

“You know what I mean” I laugh. Deep down I want him to prove me right but that would be completely outta line.

“I need an example” all of a sudden I’m shy but not to shy to bite my tongue.

“Like your tongue you look like you know how to use it in the best way” He doesn’t say anything he just stares at me. I feel myself leaning in. He’s leaning too. Our lips attach and it was like a flame was set off in my body. I’m frozen but my lips are still moving in sync with his.

Flo’s large hand caresses thigh then bring them in my underwear rubbing slowly at my clit. I moan in his mouth and he speeds up. Out of instinct I try to close my thighs arching my back but he keeps a good grip. He slips a finger in and starts kissing my neck. I moan out but the flash of my best friends face crosses my mind and I place my hands on his shoulders and stop all movements.

“You’re with China” I say breathing heavily. He nods looking down and my clit is throbbing and so badly I want so much more but I know I’d feel the worse whether China found out or not.

“You’re right I’m sorry” he nods taking his hand out of my underwear. His fingertip is wet with my juices and I let out a puff of air holding my head in my hands. I grab my pants and we redress ourselves before sitting back down. I sigh closing my eyes getting comfortable. All I can think about is his head between my legs and him being dominant and absolutely man-handling me. I open my eyes again looking out the window at the dark night sky.

‘Something takes over me and I straddle Flo and grab his arms wrapping them around me. I grab his face kissing him and he grinds me against his hard on. He’s quick to pull off my underwear and shimmy down his pants just a little bit. The tip inserts through my walls and I-‘

“Y/N you should probably get some rest” I snap out of my thoughts and he’s just staring at me.

“Yea you’re right” he stands to grabbing two blankets from the closet. He hands me one and I give off a small smile and a thank you. I pull the heavy soft blanket over my body up to my chin before taking a deep breath that transitions me into a deep sleep.

...

I wake up just at sunrise to see Florian asleep. He looks peaceful when he’s asleep. I look out the window watching the beautiful sky. It’s painted a mix of pink purple and yellow in the cleanest way.

I smile and stand up stretching my legs and back. There’s a big window at the back of the plane and I walk back there folding my arms just looking.

I feel arms around my waist and Florian’s hand slides up my neck to my jaw bringing my lips to his. I can’t help but kiss back now. This is so wrong but it feels so right.

I turn my body taking in his embrace and his hands go down to my butt giving it a light squeeze. He stops kissing me and walks away back to his seat. I watch his eyes close and I go sitting next to him. I lay my head on his shoulder. He wraps his arm around me and I lay on his chest drifting to sleep once again.

...

We are just getting off the plane in the warm climate of France. Considering it’s spring there’s a slight chill in the air making me put on a light jacket. Flo grabs our bags taking it to the car and the driver gets out. He looks like Flo honestly. Not as tall but still over 6 feet, green hazel eyes, pretty smile. The have a resemblance towards each other. Florian gives him a big hug with a laugh “how’ve you been?” The guy asks

“I’ve been good. This is Y/N. Y/N this is my brother Daniel” he opens his arms and I give him a big hug.

“Nice to meet you” he smiles

“Nice to meet you too”

“How’s China” he glances at me smiling

“She’s great” he nods

“Good well let’s not waste any time let’s go” he nods. I get in the backseat and I see a woman in the front. “Hi I’m Amelia” she introduces. Perfect skin, long legs, gorgeous blonde hair. She’s a model.

“Hi I’m Y/N” she smiles sweetly and turns around. Florian sits next to me and his brother gets in the driver seat as we pull off in the beautiful city of Paris. Or as I like to call it, Heaven.

As we go through I’m glued to the window tapping Flo’s thigh every time I see something cool like mimes, flowers, and even puppies. I notice Flo’s hand on my thigh and I want to move it so badly for the sake of just feeling bad but I can’t. This feels so good.

We arrive at the house shortly after and it’s huge to say the least. I get out and Daniel opens the trunk. I go to grab my bag and Florian smacks my hand. My jaw drops with a laugh emitting from both of us while Daniel and his wife walk by.

“I’ll get it” he says. He picks up my suitcase and his as well rolling both of them into the house. I’m still enjoying the exterior. An older gentleman comes out looking at me. I walk up to him and a huge smile spreads across his face. “Are you English?” His thick accent much like Flo’s emits through his perfect teeth.

“Close. American. I’m Y/N, Florian’s friend”

“No girlfriend?” His thick accent doesn’t stop the curiosity but still love coming from him.

“No she’s at home” I smile. He extends his arms pulling me in for a hug. He smells like teakwood and a little bit of backwoods.

“We have dinner tonight. You like goat?”

“Never tried it” I laugh. He wraps his arm around my shoulder walking me into his house “your house is beautiful”

“Thank you. Me and my wife built it when Daniel was born” he explains “from the ground up and this is one house I will never get rid of”

“I’m just in love with it” an older woman appears with broad shoulders and a disgusted look on her face staring right into my soul.

“Who this?” She asks pointing to me. I hate when people wave their fingers in my face it makes me wanna fight. But for her sake I’ll chalk it up to a culture difference.

“Diana this is Y/N Florian’s friend” his father speaks “oh my apologies my name is Emilio”

“You think you’re good enough for my son?”

“Excuse me?”

“Ma stop” Florian scolds “what the hell is wrong with you”

“I apologize she can be a handful sometimes. Which is why we’re separated” Emilio says to me. I can’t help but giggle and he shows me around more with Flo behind us.

...

I get out the steamy shower and a knock comes at my door. I open it slightly seeing its Florian dressed in a Nike tracksuit. I’m only in a towel and I smile at him. “Hey you look good” I step aside allowing him in and he shuts the door sitting on the bed.

“Thanks” he answers “you look better. I think my mom will love that” he laughs

“Funny” I smile sarcastically laughing to myself

“Y/N I’m sorry but I just can’t help myself when I’m around you. Every time even when all of us like me you and China are together I want to make you mine and I know that’s your best friend-“ I cut him off with a kiss. That’s that wrenching feeling inside of me knowing I’m going to hurt my best friend is strong. But my feelings for him are stronger. What we have built is too strong for me to just walk away.

“Let’s just have fun this weekend and we’ll see where to go from there” I reassure him. Florian slides his hand up my thigh dangerously close to my bare pussy. Before he moves any higher I push his hand away “I have to get ready”

“Alright alright” he stands up “just meet me downstairs” he kisses my head and I shut the door behind him. I sigh shaking my head ridding myself of the thought that betrays myself and my best friend the most. I go in my suitcase grabbing the short casual t-shirt dress I brought. It accentuates my curves but still is simple.

I grab some sandals sliding those on and snapping the strap to my ankle. I take one last look in the mirror before opening the door to his mother standing right in front of me. “Hi?” I respond in more of a question like tone

“Are you going to Florians fight in 2 days?” She asks

“I am” she rolls her eyes muttering something under her breath. “What was that?” I call out daring her to say it again. People, especially older people, need to realize respect isn’t given it’s earned and if you put me in a position where I have every right to disrespect you, then that’s that.

“Take your ass back on the plane and go home. My son doesn’t need you” Just then I hear Florian yell and he comes up the stairs.

“Let’s go Y/N” he grabs my hand but I yank it away too heated in the moment to understand he means good.

“Nah she wanna sit here and keep disrespecting me. I’ve had enough. Me and him aren’t-“ Florian picks me up taking me downstairs where he sets me down on my feet. His hands are still clad at my waist as I fume.

“I’m tired of her talking to me like she’s lost her gotdamn mind”

“Just don’t let her get to you. I’ll talk to her later tonight. Please” he begs. I sigh and he pulls me in for a tight hug. I take a deep breath of his cologne gathering my thoughts. I let go and walk in front of him to the kitchen earning a swat to my behind. I shake my head and we approach the table full of others. They all stare at me including his mother sitting at the end. I sit down and Flo sits next to me. The maids bring out an appetizer and it’s an orange soup. I grab my spoon taking a sip and it’s delicious.

“This is called a zuppa toscana” Emilio says “something my mother used to make me and my brothers all the time” he smiles. The family engulfs themselves in chatty conversations and I continue sipping on my soup. Flashbacks of the plane and Florian rubbing my pussy keep hitting me creating a waterfall in my panties. I can already feel their soaked through. I stretch my hand on his thigh lightly resting it there. Florian glances at me before going back to his food. I move my hand on top of his crotch rubbing lightly making a firm grip. I feel his thigh twitch and his hazel turn into a dark brown. I keep rubbing him through his pants feeling him harden. I keep rubbing until the chef comes out of the kitchen.

“The food is taking some time but it will be out shortly” the chef announces smiling.

“Perfect Y/N come with me” Florian grabs my hand dragging me with him throughout the house.

He opens the big glass door and lets me out first. I look around seeing we’ve entered a beautiful garden. “This is gorgeous” he shuts the door and grabs my hand not saying a word. Florian leads me through it to a bench in front of some flowers. I bite my lip and he wraps his hand around my throat sealing any space between us with a kiss. His hands move to my butt giving it a nice squeeze. I gasp feeling his tongue slip in my mouth. I feel dizzy and hot. I’m not sure who’s air I’m breathing anymore. He lets go and I suck in a breath of air as Florian sits on the bench. He pulls my dress off tearing off the thin fabric of my lace thong. He sits me on his lap and I wrap my arms around his broad shoulders. I grind along his hard-on as he grips the back of my neck holding me in a powerful kiss. I lift my dress up pulling my underwear to the side while he unbuckles his pants. Florian lets out a big girthy dick and I watch as it pulsates and leaked with precum.

I grab ahold of it and glide myself onto him feeling his dick expand my walls gracefully. Once I’m fully on him Florian grabs my hips digging into them guiding me to ride him. This increases my pleasure somehow.

“I’ve waited for this for so long” he moans bucking my hips faster. I bounce my ass and my acrylics glide through his short hair. My breath is caught in my throat by how fast I’m going and how big he is. My hands move to his chest and I let out that first succulent moan. Florian rolls my hips faster attaching his lips to my neck heightening my pleasure. I claw at his chest hearing his deep voice rumble in my neck “I’ve wanted this tight pussy around my cock and in my mouth since I first met you”

My moans get louder hearing his vulgarity and my legs begin shaking from the pressure building in my center. Florian holds me down with one arm and his other hand snakes up to my mouth silencing my moans. Somehow this makes this rendezvous 10x hotter. He starts pounding me out from below and the only thing you can hear is skin slapping on skin and his low grunts and moans.

“Are you gonna cum on me?” I nod furiously trying to push away from his death grip. The pounding becoming too much “uh uh take this dick”

I have no choice but to sit there and take it. My entire body tensed and I begin my convulsions while gripping on the bottom of his shirt. He takes his hand off my mouth and I instantly move to his neck where loud moans are muffled in his shirt. “Fuck I’m gonna cum” I hop off to the best of my ability and get on my knees. I grab the base of his dick jerking it hard while sucking on the tip. Before I know it warm, bitterness is brought into my mouth while he grips the edge of the bench moaning. He’s gripping so hard that his knuckles are turning white.

“That’s my girl” I milk him dry and keep sucking until he’s begging me to stop. I come off his member with a pop and smile at him. Florian grabs my throat giving me a wet sloppy nasty kiss.

“You’re so nasty” he smiles “I love it”

I pull my dress down and discard my underwear in my bra. Florian fixes himself and I see the door open. It’s the chef.

“The food is ready. I was told you might be out here since it’s your favorite spot”

“Yes thank you. Just showing her the flowers” he extends his hand and I walk in front of him. The chef leaves the door open walking away and I giggle to myself thinking of what we just did. I’m gonna beat myself up later about it.

#smut #fluff #florian munteanu x reader #florian munteanu #big nasty #florian munteanu smut #series

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joshjacksons · 3 years

Text

Joshua Jackson interview with "Mr Porter" (2021)

Minutes before Mr Joshua Jackson joins me in a booth for a Friday afternoon drink at a vibey hotel bar in Santa Monica, he’s confronted by his past. Or rather, a woman in her early twenties who is binge-watching Dawson’s Creek, the teen show about a close-knit group of high-school friends coming of age in a sleepy American town, which made Jackson incredibly famous between 1998 and 2003. The series, which also made household names of Ms Michelle Williams and Ms Katie Holmes, went off air 18 years ago, but is now streaming on Netflix, to the bemusement of Jackson, who played lovable rogue Pacey Witter. “This girl was like, ‘Are you...?’ And I’m like, ‘Yes, I am. He got old. I’m sorry to break it to you,’” he says, before ordering an iced tea and a charcuterie board to tide him over until dinner time. “It always surprises me when young people say they’ve just got into Dawson’s Creek. I’m like, ‘Is it a costume drama to you? Do you feel like you’re watching a historical documentary?’”

The idea of a Friends-style reunion episode or a Sex And The City revival feels equally far-fetched to Canadian-born Jackson, now 43 and wearing it well in a pale green linen shirt and tailored linen trousers by Oliver Spencer that complement his fading brown hair and Cali-tanned skin.

“I don’t know why you’d want to [bring it back],” he says. “Nobody needs to know what those characters are doing in middle age. We left them in a nice place. Nobody needs to see that Pacey’s back hurts. I don’t think we need that update.”

And Jackson doesn’t need Dawson’s Creek. From Mr JJ Abrams’ sci-fi series Fringe (2008-2013) to the Golden Globe award-winning The Affair (2014-2019), from Ms Ava DuVernay’s ground-breaking true-crime drama When They See Us (2019) to the recent Ms Reese Witherspoon and Ms Kerry Washington-produced Little Fires Everywhere (2020), he has commanded the small screen – with a collection of dynamic and diverse work – ever since.

His latest role as Mr Christopher Duntsch, the Texas surgeon convicted of gross malpractice when 33 of his patients were left seriously injured after he operated on them and two of them died, in chilling Peacock crime drama Dr Death, is only stepping his career up another gear.

“I’ve never played anyone irredeemable before,” says Jackson, who is joined in the eight-part series (based on the 2018 Wondery podcast of the same name) by Messrs Christian Slater and Alec Baldwin. “He is charming, gregarious and has a high-level intellect, but he’s also a misogynist, probably a sociopath, certainly a narcissist and a complete incompetent who is incapable of seeing himself.”

If Duntsch is terrifying, then Jackson’s portrayal is even more so. The artist formerly known as Pacey is virtually unrecognisable (thanks to prosthetics) in the opening scene, but the real challenge for Jackson was allowing himself to view someone who is so “spectacularly evil” as a human being in order to walk in his shoes. “It’s a more damning portrayal of the man to make him into a human being, rather than just make him the bad guy,” he says. “He really believes he’s the hero, he’s the genius and that he’s the victim, so once I got past my own judgment, all the other things fell into place.”

Jackson might have his pick of stellar roles – and challenges – now, but it has not happened by accident. Take it from someone who has been in the business since landing his first job aged 14 in Disney’s live-action movie series The Mighty Ducks, opposite Brat Pack alumnus Mr Emilio Estevez.

“You try to make it look like it happens accidentally,” he says, “but there is no way to do this and not be ambitious. I’d say I’m extremely ambitious because I’ve been doing this cutthroat job for nearly 30 years. I’m in the pay-off phase of my career now. One of the benefits of surviving for as long as I have is you get to learn from your own mistakes.”

Such as? “I wouldn’t say, ‘I wish I hadn’t done that,’ because it all becomes bricks in a path, but [after Dawson’s Creek] I was not choosy enough about the things I was doing. You get stuck. You start trying to perform the performance you think people are hoping to see you do. I was so used to working all the time that I just worked all the time. There was definitely a conscious moment in my mid-twenties when I realised I wasn’t really enjoying the work that I was doing. My manager at the time just said, ‘Take a breath. You’re burnt out.’”

The turning point came in 2005, when Jackson was offered a role in the two-hander Mr David Mamet play A Life In The Theatre, opposite Sir Patrick Stewart. “God bless him, Patrick could have made my life miserable because I had no idea what I was doing, ” he says. “I hadn’t been on stage since I was a kid and now I was in the West End in over my head. But it reminded me that I actually enjoyed being an actor, that it’s not about the red carpet or travelling around the world. What I really enjoy is working on good material with good people.”

It’s no surprise Jackson’s time on Dawson’s Creek led to a career crisis. From the ages of 19 to 24, he lived with his fellow cast mates in Wilmington, North Carolina, filming day in, day out, in an arrangement he likens to college. “You get to the end and they’re like, ‘Here’s your degree. Go live now. You’re an adult. Go out into the world,’” he says.

But most graduates don’t have to deal with global fame. “It’s transitory. You’re only ever cool for a moment and then you become much less cool. I was always pretty dubious about flatterers,” he says, recalling a time he was stung in London in the mid-2000s. “I went on a date in Hyde Park with a woman whose name I will not use – she was socialite-famous – and she was acting completely bizarre, looking over her shoulder the whole time. I came to find out that she had hired a photographer to follow us through the park and gave a whole story to the tabloids about how I was going to meet her family.”

It was his growing fortune, rather than fame, that caused Jackson the most anxiety. “Suddenly, at 19 years old, I was making more in a week than most of my friends’ parents would make in a year,” he says. “It was lovely to have the money, but it was that feeling of nobody is worth that kind of money. You feel like a fraud and it took me a long time to forgive myself for not being the thing that I was perceived as.”

Born in Vancouver, but raised in Topanga, California, until he was eight (before moving back to Vancouver following his parents’ divorce), Jackson bought his childhood home in 2001 and lives in it today with his wife, British Queen & Slim actor Ms Jodie Turner-Smith, and their 15-month-old daughter.

“My father unfortunately was not a good father or a husband and exited the scene, but that house in Topanga was where everything felt simple, so it was a very healing thing for me to do,” he says. Fast-forward to 2021 and his baby daughter now sleeps in her father’s childhood bedroom. “There was a mural of a dragon on the wall in that room that I couldn’t believe was still there, years later. The owner [who sold him the house] said, ‘I knew it meant a lot to somebody and that they were going to come back for it some day.’”

Becoming a first-time parent during a pandemic sounds stressful, but it afforded Jackson months at home with his wife and child that his normal work schedule wouldn’t have allowed.

“I now recognise how perverse the way that we have set up our society is,” he says. “There is not a father I know who works a regular job who didn’t go back to the office a week later. It’s robbing that man of the opportunity to bond with his child and spend time with his partner.”

Despite his obvious career ambitions, fatherhood has changed Jackson’s priorities in “every possible way”, he says. “It’s 100 per cent changed how I approach my work and my life. That has been made so clear to me in this past year. For me to feel good about what I’m doing day to day, my family has to be the central focus.

“There are plenty of things left for me to do, but now the thing that gets me excited is experiencing the world through my daughter’s eyes. I can’t wait to take her scuba diving. I can’t wait to take her skiing. I can’t wait to read a great book with her. I’m not worried at all she’ll be a wallflower. She’s been a character from the word go.”

Jackson met Turner-Smith, 34, two days after his 40th birthday. He had been single since his 10-year relationship with German actress Ms Diane Kruger ended in 2016. “I was not looking to fall in love again or meet the mother of my child, but life has other plans for you,” he says.

The couple met at a party. Turner-Smith was wearing the same The Future Is Female Ejaculation T-shirt Ms Tessa Thompson’s character, Detroit, wears in the 2018 film Sorry To Bother You. “That’s what I used to break the ice. I shouted, ‘Detroit!’ across the room. Not the smoothest thing I’ve ever done, but it worked. We were pretty much inseparable from the word go. It was a whirlwind romance and I can tell my daughter I literally saw her mother across a room and thought, ‘I have to be next to this woman.’”

A self-confessed “useless” shopper, Jackson gives his wife full credit for his current wardrobe. He is jewellery-free, apart from a wedding band and a gold signet “JJ” ring on his little finger (a present from his wife), and discovered tailored sweatsuits (by Stampd and Reigning Champ) in the pandemic.

“Jodie has influence in the way that a wonderful wife encourages you, through love, to dress well. She was like, ‘We’re going to throw away all the sweatpants from your past and I’m going to get you some that actually make you look like an adult male and you will still feel comfortable around the house,’ and I’m like, ‘What an amazing idea!’ Who knew you could get sweatsuits that actually look good on your body?”

Jackson’s style has evolved, he says, “from slovenly teen to it’s-nice-when-your-clothes-actually-fit-you”. The penny dropped after he auditioned for his former co-star Estevez, who was directing the 2006 Mr Robert Kennedy biopic Bobby. He said to me, ‘You only got this job because I know you. You came in here to play a very well-put together 1960s political operative and you’re wearing jeans and a hoodie.’

“I had to grow up a little bit. We are very much raised in Canada to never, ever show off, so it took me a while to recognise it’s OK to look good when you go out.”

Still, when you’ve grown up in front of the camera, “every pimple literally documented”, and lived (very successfully) to tell the tale, you can probably be forgiven for the odd fashion faux pas.

“I wore a silk Ascot to an event once in Paris and I still have nightmares about it,” he says. “I looked like Fred from Scooby Doo, but you live and learn.”

#joshua jackson #interviews #jodie turner smith #dawson's creek #dr death #fringe #emilio estevez #mr porter #patrick stewart #michelle williams #katie holmes

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littleoddwriter · 3 years

Note

Hiya! Your prompt list interested me and I would like to request you a Zsaszmask story with Dialogue Prompt n°5 "I wasn't sure your remembered me". Plot: During a fight with a rival gang, Victor gets knocked out and suffered amnesia. It hurts Roman who tried everything to help him. Angst+happy ending would be nice. I am sure it will be brilliant as always! Thanks in advance and have a nice day!

Remember Me | Roman Sionis x Victor Zsasz | ZsaszMask

Hiya! <3 Thank you so much for this delightful request! It's totally run away from me, istg (it's over 4k words long, rip). I really hope you enjoy what I've done with it!

summary; see above.

notes; Angst with Happy Ending; Amnesia; Hospitals; Recovery; Mentions of Murder and Fantasies of it; Mentions of having been stabbed and shot; probably bad depiction of how hospitals and such work despite the medical dramas i've watched.

Stupid fucking rival gangs. He wished he could kill them all over again.

Stupid fucking Victor Zsasz. He was always so fucking loyal and protective.

Fucking hell!

Fuck!

Roman was fuming; his blood was still boiling, thrumming through his body in high speed, making him tremble. Although to be fair, he wasn’t entirely sure that he was only shaking because of his rage. It might have also been caused by the fear that’s settled deep into his bones.

Fear! He, Roman Beauvais Sionis, the notorious Black Mask – scared! It was laughable, really.

It would’ve been laughable if it hadn’t been for the fact that Victor’s blood was all over his clothes.

It would’ve been laughable if it hadn’t been for the fact that Zsasz was lying on the hospital bed, wires and tubes attached to him, looking so lifeless.

Because yes, it was scary, indeed.

Roman thought even the cruellest people in the world would agree that the uncertainty of whether or not the person you cared about the most was coming back to you at all or not, warranted such feelings of fear. It was perfectly fine.

If only it didn’t feel so wrong.

If only he didn’t feel like ripping his own heart out, so he could make these emotions stop.

That’s one of the many reasons that he despised just how close he was to Victor, how close he let him get.

He’s always known that someday, he may as well lose him one way or another.

And then what?

He didn’t know. He didn’t want to know.

The strangest thing of all to him, in this very moment that he’s been sitting on the hospital chair next to Victor’s bed, was that he hasn’t left that spot even once so far. He was too scared to move. He felt as though the second his eyes left Zsasz’s shape, he would suddenly disappear. Because right now, he was still here. He was still alive, if only just barely, but he was still here.

He hadn’t even dared to change his clothes, the dried blood making them crusty and uncomfortable. It was disgusting and under any other circumstances he would have gone to change the second he had been out of danger.

Yet, here he was.

If only Zsasz knew just how much he actually cared about him.

Thinking about it though, he probably did. He seemed to know Roman better than he knew himself. Sometimes that scared him, but most of the time it only lit this raging fire inside him. He couldn’t stand the way he depended on this one person.

It was dangerous.

He couldn’t help himself, though. He’s tried before, but every time it led him right back to Zsasz. A strange pull kept hold of him, not letting him get out of Victor’s magnetic field under any circumstances.

Roman knew that Zsasz would probably say that it was some kind of fate thing. Destiny. They were meant to be together from the day they’d been born, only to wreak havoc on Gotham the way they’ve been doing ever since.

It was kind of charming, really, that Victor was so set on his theories about the universe. Sionis never questioned that Zsasz might have a point, considering that his purpose was to free all these birds from their cages, but he often failed to extent his belief in Victor’s theories to themselves.

Until now, at least.

The way he’s been feeling since Victor got knocked out, stabbed, and shot made him unsure of everything, now.

Because it truly felt as though with the very real notion of possibly losing his Victor, he’s suddenly felt so lost. Incomplete. It was as though with every action the rival gang’s taken, another part’s been ripped out of his body, his heart – his very soul.

It was absolutely horrific and now he could only hope that Zsasz would wake up again, without any permanent damages. He didn’t know what he would do if there were any at all. Would he rage? Mourn? Kill? He just hoped he’d never have to find out at all.

Several weeks later – fifty-six days, in fact – Roman sat in his chair beside Victor’s bed, like he’s done day and night since it had first happened.

Of course, he had changed out of his clothes after the first night, showered and slept, but he’s done it all in Zsasz’s hospital room. He didn’t dare leave him.

All business was done over the phone, or by meetings in Victor’s room. It wasn’t the most convenient situation. It also left him exposed, seemingly weak, and he’s made certain that they all knew that if they so much as thought of him as any less dangerous and cruel, they’d be dead faceless men. They seemed to have taken his threats seriously enough. At least nothing has come up so far.

After a while, Roman has started to hold Victor’s right hand in both of his, stroking his thumb over his palm, his wrist – tracing the only scar he found there. He even talked to him. The doctors have said that often times it helped to talk to a coma patient, that they’ve woken up earlier than expected – or at all – when they’ve been spoken to. So he had muttered about the incident that even got them there in the first place, but as time has passed, he just started talking about everything and nothing.

In rare moments of sentimentality, he’d even go on about how much he missed Victor, how scared he felt, even after weeks. Maybe especially because it’s been weeks – almost two months– now. He was so afraid that perhaps Zsasz wouldn’t wake up after all. The doctors have certainly never given him a clear answer.

Lost in his musing, he felt Victor’s hand, which has been still enveloped by both of his, twitch.

He immediately held completely still, not even breathing, as he looked at Zsasz curiously, expectantly.

“Zsasz?” he rasped, sounding so small to his own ears that he cringed internally.

The hand twitched again, fingers clenching and releasing around Roman’s hand.

“Victor, hey. Come back to me, hm?” he spoke softly, a nervous smile twisting his mouth upward.

After a few more moments, Victor’s eyes fluttered open. Slowly, he seemed to adjust to the bright lights in the room. Clearing his throat and groaning quietly, he sluggishly turned his head to the side, his eyes meeting Roman’s.

As soon as he had taken him in, Victor’s eyes widened.

Roman felt confusion coursing through him.

Zsasz looked – scared? Confused as well? He certainly didn’t look very happy to see Roman alive and well next to him.

“Who are you?”

The world seemed to stop around Roman; his heart was pounding, feeling it in his throat. He was kidding. He had to be.

“Excuse me?” Roman inquired instead, giving Zsasz a chance out of this uncalled for joke.

“Who are you?” Victor repeated, his voice still hoarse and broken, but louder. He looked so genuine, too.

An icy chill settled in Roman’s stomach, spreading through his entire body.

“Now’s really not the time for jokes, Mr. Zsasz,” Sionis reprimanded him, trying once more to make Victor react differently and say he’s only been kidding after all, before he called a doctor in panic.

But then Victor pried his hand out of Roman’s tight grip and said, “I’m really not joking, sir.”

Okay, maybe he really wasn’t, because Victor’s certainly never called him ‘sir’ outside of sex; even then, it was a rare occurrence.

Sionis took a deep breath and then leaned over to press the call-button, hoping the doctors – who were all on his pay roll, of course – would have an answer that was at least mildly satisfactory.

No such luck, though.

The doctors came in and asked Roman to step outside first, so they could check Victor over.

In front of his room, Sionis started pacing, running his hands through his hair in frustration, anxiety, and rage. He was trying so hard not to explode; it made him tremble all over again. He felt exactly like he had when they had first come into the hospital nearly two months ago.

This was just a really bad fucking nightmare. It had to be.

When the doctor and his nurses were done checking him over, they asked Roman back into the room. He’s kept his distance now, not daring to come any closer to Victor, his Victor.

“You said you don’t know who this is?” the doctor – whatshisname – inquired calmly, looking at Victor, but pointing at Roman.

“Yeah, no idea,” Victor replied, his voice started to sound clearer, which only made it so much worse for Roman when he couldn’t detect any underlying inflection that may have told him that this really was just a prank after all.

“But you do know who you are, correct? Do you know your name?” the doctor continued, looking at Roman, a hint of fear in his eyes. He hated it. He wanted to gouge them out, so he didn’t have to see the fear anymore. Instead, he just looked away, staring at Victor intently.

“I know who I am, yeah. Name’s Victor Zsasz.”

“Alright. Could you tell me what year we have, Mr. Zsasz?”

His brows furrowed, deep in thought, and then, “2002.” Fuck.

The doctor stopped short, Roman’s hands clenched into tight fists, the leather of his gloves squeaking audibly in the all too quiet room.

“I’m sorry to say it, but it is actually 2019. Do you have any idea why you’re in the hospital at all?”

Victor’s eyes widened again, just like when he’s spotted Roman for the first time a little while ago.

“That can’t be right. No, I don’t remember that. What the hell’s going on, Doc? What did you do to me?” The last part was directed at Roman, who felt as though his heart’s been stabbed, ripped out and stomped on with those words and the accusatory delivery of them.

“Mr. Sionis, I’d have to ask you to wait outside until I’m done here, please,” the doctor said.

Without another word and as if he was on autopilot, Roman let himself out of the room and sat down in the chair in front of it, burying his head in his hands. This couldn’t possibly be true. He had to wake up from this horrible nightmare, soon. He just had to.

After what felt like an eternity, the doctor stepped back outside.

“Mr. Sionis, it looks as though Mr. Zsasz suffers from amnesia. It was most likely caused by the blow to his head.”

“But he’ll be fine, right? Amnesia is only temporary. Right?” Roman hated that he couldn’t hide the anxiety he felt, the utter dread.

“Not always. We’d have to do some more tests, CTs and such, to make sure. After that I can disclose more certain information to you. Would that be alright?”

Sionis sighed, frustrated, “Yes. Do whatever you’ve got to, as long as it’ll help bring him back to normal.”

“Of course, sir. I’ll go and order the tests right now. I’d suggest that you go home now. I’ll call you as soon as I’ve got any new information, but it certainly wouldn’t do any good to confuse Mr. Zsasz even further now, when we barely know what’s really going on. Alright? I promise to be fast.”

“You better be,” Roman muttered and turned to leave the hospital, his driver waiting a couple of blocks away from it.

Normally, he’d have been raging now, throwing things, spitting into doctors faces, cussing them out – but he couldn’t.

He was in shock.

He could barely process the reality of what was even happening.

He felt so alone.

Two days later, in which he might’ve gone a little mad, really, his doctor finally called him. When he’s come in to see him, he’s told him that Victor did indeed only suffer from temporary memory loss. Unfortunately, such amnesia was quite unpredictable and it could be a few days, weeks, months, or even years until all memories were back.

Still, the good news were that the doctor has managed to warm up Zsasz to the idea of going back to living with Roman, after assuring him that it’s been this way for many years, now. To that Victor had first asked if he was gay, because apparently at that point in his life, Zsasz hadn’t had a clue about his sexuality, or that he could truly like anyone at all.

All of this was utterly ridiculous to Roman.

How can a person just lose access to such a big portion of their life, of their identity, essentially?

The same day that Roman’s received the news, he was also allowed to take Victor back home with him, already. Apparently his wounds had healed a great deal, while he’d been out, and so the rest could be done from home. Additionally, it’d be extremely beneficial to bringing his memories back if he was surrounded by things so familiar to him.

Roman hoped it worked fast.

“I had your old room prepared for you,” Roman commented when they’ve finally arrived back at the penthouse.

Victor was holding himself up with a hand on the wall. He hadn’t liked when Roman touched him and offered him to support him. Sionis couldn’t really find words for just how much he’s hated that.

“’Old room’? What’s with my new one?” Victor asked, almost looking like a caged animal, when their eyes met.

“Well, I had thought you wouldn’t want to sleep in one bed with me, right now,” Roman replied, hoping he’d catch on without needing him to spell it out for him.

Realisation dawned on him quickly, a slight pink tint to his cheeks. “Right.”

“Exactly. Anyway, so this is your room, there’s an en-suite bathroom, through that door,” Roman explained, showing Victor around. He was glad that he was such a natural at these things, it eased him a little, bringing back some much needed familiarity.

“Huh, compared to the shithole I used to live in, this is really luxerias.”

“Luxurious,” Roman corrected him without thinking.

“Uh-huh, whatever,” Victor just muttered darkly.

“Dinner will be ready at 6pm sharp. Until then you can- I don’t know, stay in bed, I suppose. If you should need anything, or you’re having an emergency you can either call for my staff, or me; whichever you prefer.” Fuck, Roman really hated just how much he cared about this asshole. He’d never do this for anyone else. If it had been anyone else, Roman would have dropped them – killed them – the second they had to have been rushed to the fucking hospital.

“Okay. Thanks, Mr. Sionis,” Zsasz said, gingerly sitting down on his bed.

“Just call me Roman, Zsasz.” Or boss, he added in his mind, but didn’t dare to speak it.

When he left Victor’s room, he stalked into his own, silent tears gathered in his eyes and ran down his cheeks.

He just wanted his Victor back.

Dinner was awkward to say the least. Victor sat in his usual place at the head of the table, to Roman’s right, and he ate just like he always did – like a fucking pig. But he didn’t talk to Roman at all, even when he had tried to start up a conversation. Instead, he only side-eyed him, looking suspicious of him. It enraged Roman.

In the morning, Victor didn’t show up for breakfast.

After a few minutes of waiting for him to come, Roman got up to look after Zsasz. His first thoughts had been that perhaps something’s gone wrong and Victor died in his sleep, but when he opened the door to his room – after knocking first, of course, he wasn’t a savage after all – Zsasz glared at him so darkly that an unpleasant shiver ran down Roman’s spine.

So he didn’t try to force him out if he didn’t want to. His doctor had told him to give him time and be patient with him, so he tried his fucking best to do exactly that. It was really fucking hard, though. He hoped that Zsasz would at least appreciate his efforts properly, when he was all his again.

In the end, Victor hasn’t come out of his room at all that day. It was extremely frustrating to Roman, who proceeded to trash his own room at night, when it had all just come to a head for him. He didn’t care if Victor could hear him scream and throw things, destroying them.

The day after, Victor sat at the breakfast table first, to Roman’s surprise. Sionis didn’t say anything, even though he so desperately wanted to make a snide remark, but he wasn’t willing to take the risk of having Zsasz lock himself into his room, again.

“The doc said that showing me some things could jog my memory,” Victor rasped eventually, when Roman had been ready to get up and leave.

“I know. So you’re willing to do that?” He only received a nod in response.

For a moment, Roman mulled it over, thinking about what he could show Victor to help him remember his life the best and the fastest.

Then it hit him.

Zsasz didn’t remember him. Well, maybe he would if he saw Roman wearing his Black Mask in the club they’ve first met, when Galante introduced them to each other.

“Alright, I’ve got something to show you. I’ll just make a phone call and we could go, ‘kay?”

“Yeah, alright.”

Roman had made sure that Victor wouldn’t see him in the Black Mask until they were to re-enact their first meeting – only that this time they’d be all by themselves.

He really hoped this worked.

Roman told Zsasz to stand in the same spot he’s stood when Black Mask had first stridden in to greet Galante. Just like he’s done with Sionis since, he’d stood leaned against a pillar. Usually his arms would be behind his back, but it would put too much strain on the still tender wounds on his abdomen, so he just let them dangle at his sides. Roman felt a painful tug on his heart strings. He had missed seeing Victor like this.

“Wait here,” he instructed Zsasz, who just nodded.

Then Roman went back to the car and got out his Black Mask and put it on.

“If this doesn’t fucking work…,” he muttered gloomily, before he opened the empty club’s door to walk in, like he’s done all those sixteen years ago.

As much as he hated admitting it, he was lucky that the mask gave him such a sense of security and protection, so that whenever he wore it, he practically became a different person. It made it a lot easier to hold himself with all the extravagance and intent that he’s displayed over a decade and a half ago (and every other day before all this), too.

He watched Victor like a hawk as he marched up to him, and Zsasz’s gaze was just as sharp and piercing as was his.

Black Mask stopped right in front of Zsasz, only a few inches away. He tilted his head a little, and gruffly inquired, “Anything at all, Mr. Zsasz?”

Victor swallowed thickly; Roman could see the way his throat worked around it. Then his eyes widened again, just like in the hospital, but this time recognition lied underneath his sharp gaze.

“Black Mask,” he whispered, a grin spread on his face, showing off his two beautiful golden teeth.

Sionis inhaled sharply. “I wasn’t sure you remembered me,” he rasped, a soft, sad inflection coming along with it.

“I’m so sorry, boss.” Victor lifted his hands and cupped the mask with them, oh, so gently. He’s always known to be careful with it. Then he stroked his thumbs over the seams and the roughly textured leather, a wonder in his eyes that Roman’s missed seeing more than he’d ever dare to admit.

“It wasn’t your fault, Mr. Zsasz,” Black Mask said, his voice strained from holding back. He didn’t know just how much Victor remembered now. They obviously haven’t been more than employer and employee from the get-go.

But fuck, he wanted to hold him close and kiss him so badly. It’s been far too long since and all the hospital stress has made him desperate for the assurance that Victor wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

Still, he just stood there, watching Zsasz marvel at his mask for a while. Victor’s always loved his mask, and Roman couldn’t ever deny him from admiring it, when it was such a boost to his ego as well.

When it felt as though fifteen minutes must have passed, Roman got a little impatient, though. Victor’s not said anything since and he needed to know what other memories he’s gotten back; so he asked, “What else do you remember?”

Zsasz’s eyes were glazed over a little, having gotten completely lost in his own little world.

Under the mask, Roman smiled.

“Hm, I remember the Bertinelli Massacre,” the way he talked – it was a testament to just how far away into his mind he’s just gone, his voice sounded so light, pondering, Roman loved it, “And I remember you coming to Galante afterwards and buying my contract from him. How I became your exclusive assassin and later right-hand man. I remember how nervous you were about opening the club after your parents had just kicked you out. I remember how ecstatic you were when it had all started to work out in your favour, the way it should have.”

He paused.

Roman almost thought that had been it. They would have to wait for everything else to come back, too. And then who knew how long it’d take?

But then Victor continued with a smile on his face, “I remember the first time we’ve gotten each other off after I freed someone for you. And how you avoided me afterwards for a little while, so angry that you’ve given in to your urges. Then I remember how we just went from there. How we share a bed now, even though you hated it so much at first, but you can’t sleep anymore when I’m not there. And I remember just how close you are to owning Gotham the way you were always meant to do.” Zsasz ended it by kissing the mask’s teeth, like he would do so often.

Roman’s breath audibly stuttered. He wrapped his arms around Victor’s waist, careful not to squeeze, just holding onto him gently.

“Take my mask off,” he commanded.

With a cute little pout, Victor did as he was told and gently took off Roman’s Black Mask, setting it down on the table beside them. As soon as he’s done that, Roman captured Victor’s pretty, plush lips in a searing kiss that conveyed all the emotions that have plagued him for almost two months then. Zsasz reciprocated it just as enthusiastically, cupping Roman’s face in his hands. They both groaned into the kiss.

Their mouths open, Roman immediately plunged his tongue into his partner’s mouth, tasting and exploring him again after so long. It may have been the most amazing and intoxicating thing he’s ever experienced.

After a couple of minutes, they separated, although their noses still brushed against one another, their lips just barely apart at all.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you so much, baby,” Roman murmured, pressing another small kiss to Victor’s slack lips.

Zsasz smiled, “I know. I missed you, too. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused you.”

“Shut the fuck up, it wasn’t your fault, ‘kay? I’m just glad you’re back and all mine again. You are, aren’t you, Victor? All mine?”

“I sure am, boss. All yours. Only yours.”

Roman smiled, kissing Victor once more, a relieved sigh leaving him. He was beyond happy he’s gotten him back. He truly had no idea what he would have done if that hadn’t happened. Those past two months had been the worst of his entire life, he was sure of it.

“Never do that to me again. You hear me?”

“Never. I promise.”

Reblogs > Likes! Support content creators, please! Thanks!

#tw hospital #tw recovery #tw amnesia #angst with a happy ending #roman sionis #roman sionis fanfiction #victor zsasz #victor zsasz fanfiction #zsaszmask #zsaszmask fanfic #harley quinn birds of prey #birds of prey and the fantabulous emancipation of one harley quinn #mlm ship #mlm fanfic #mlm fiction #i cant believe this took me all day #i've sat on this for the past-- 8 or 9 hours #i sure hope it was worth it lol #gonna try to write one more fic and upload that before bed <3

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bedbellyandbeyond · 3 years

Photo

Unexpected Visitor

(Story Post)

“Oh. Hello.” Nathan came home to a bit of a surprise. After coming home from a meeting with Korsgaard, he opened the door to find Jeffrey in his kitchen eating a bowl of cereal. He looked up and smiled to Nathan. “Oh, hey! What’s up?” Jeffrey asked. “What’s up to you first. What are…you doing here?” Nathan asked. Jeffrey shrugged. “Ya know, just hanging out with Wano.” “Ah.” Nathan felt a chill. “And where is Wano?” “I think he just finished up in the shower,” Jeffrey said. “Water stopped running.” “…How long have you been here?” “Hm, I got here… Maybe at noon-ish?” Jeffrey answered. Nathan just went quiet. He carried the twins in with him and set them down in the living room play pen before going and calling up the stairs. “Wano?” The Eclulan called back from the bathroom. “Yeah?” “I’m home! Can you come down please?” “‘Kay.” “Make sure you’re wearing clothes!” “‘Kay!”

Nathan went and grabbed some water from the fridge while he waited. He watched Jeffrey intently, but the young man just kept eating his cereal, oblivious to Nathan’s stare. Wano came down with boxers and a T-shirt on, with a towel around his neck. “Welcome home.” “Uh, yeah, thanks. Um, so Jeffrey’s here,” Nathan said. Wano looked at Jeffrey, who waved to him, and then looked back to Nathan. “Yes.” “What is he doing here?” Nathan asked. “He asked if he could come over,” Wano said. “I said yes.” Nathan blinked. “And you didn’t think to ask me, maybe?” Wano tilted his head. “Why?” “Uh…” Nathan motioned around. “Because it’s my house?” Wano frowned. “Are you mad? I don’t understand. Jeffrey is a friend to us, no?” “He… He is, but it’s still my house,” Nathan said. “I’d like to know when other people are in my house when I’m not here. You need to ask me first.” “It’s okay, Nathan. I’m heading out anyway,” Jeffrey said, after drinking his cereal milk. It left him with a milkstache. “Ollie’ll probably claim Ben as his own if I don’t get back soon…” He got up and made his way to the door to get his shoes on, but Wano intercepted him. “You have milk on your lip,” Wano stated. “Oh?” Jeffrey smiled and leaned into him, puckering his lips. “Can you get it off for me?” “Um, okay.” Wano took a finger and wiped the milk from Jeffrey’s face then wiped his hand on his own shirt. “There, you are clean.” Jeffrey chuckled and then moved on to get his shoes. “You’re so silly…” Nathan was just watching them, completely frozen. Wano waited and watched as Jeffrey finished getting ready to leave. “You will text me when you are home?” “Yeah, ‘course,” Jeffrey said, grinning. He straightened up and took Wano’s cheeks, pulling him down into a quick kiss. “I’ll see you soon, handsome.” Nathan was screaming internally. “Do you want to walk me to the bus stop?” Jeffrey asked. “Sure,” Wano said, without a second thought. “No!” Nathan cut in. Then he managed his volume. “Sorry, no. Wano can’t go too far from the house. The bus stop is too far.” “Ah. Right…” Wano angrily kicked his leg out with the ankle bracelet. “Aw, okay.” Jeffrey smiled and waved. “I’m off, then. Bye!” “Bye,” Wano said. Jeffrey walked out and Wano waited at the door until Jeffrey turned the corner towards the bus. Nathan sat down at the kitchen counter with his arms crossed. “Could you close the door, please?” Wano did as told and then wandered over. “You look angry in your face. Was your meeting bad?” “No.” Nathan straightened up. “So, you and Jeffrey are serious now?” “Serious about what?” Wano asked. “You’re in a relationship,” Nathan said. He remembered he had to be plain with the Eclulan. “Wano, did you have sex with Jeffrey today in my house?” Wano shrugged. “Yes.” Nathan groaned. “Seriously?! At least tell me you’re using protection…” “Protection? From who?” Wano asked. “Not Jeffrey. I am much stronger than him.” “No, condoms! Contraceptives!” Nathan said. “Safe sex!” “I don’t understand any of that,” Wano asked. “Are you kidding—did you put anything on your penis to protect yourselves from illness or pregnancy?” Nathan tried one more time. “No. None of that makes sense,” Wano asked. “Why would we do that?” “Um, maybe so that you don’t get a sexually transmitted illness and you don’t get pregnant!” Nathan exclaimed. Wano shrugged. “But I cannot get your human diseases and I cannot get pregnant.” “But Jeffrey can!” Nathan said. “Yes, is that not the point of sex?” Wano asked. “Not the diseases, but to reproduce?” Nathan wanted to shout but he held it in and just turned around to try and calm down. Wano frowned. “I have not seen you so angry before… Do you need food? Are you hungry?” “No, Wano,” Nathan gripped his kitchen counter with white knuckles. “…I am trying so hard to figure out a way for you to realise why what you’re doing with Jeffrey right now is wrong.” “I don’t understand. Do you not like Jeffrey?” Wano asked. “I thought you were friends.” “I…” Nathan grit his teeth. “I like Jeffrey. We are…group friends. But, Jeffrey is immature and what you two are doing right now is so blind of the consequences. You’re about to be deported off the planet!” “I am very aware of that,” Wano said, defensively. Nathan turned back around. “Then why are you trying to make a baby?!” “It is because I am leaving that I want to,” Wano said. “My planet is dangerous… I might not come back. I would like Jeffrey to carry my legacy so my life was not without meaning.” Nathan wrinkled his nose. It sounded noble in a way but still rubbed him the wrong way. “Wano, that is probably the most selfish thing I have ever heard in my life.” Wano was taken aback. “What? Why?” “Legacy? Are you kidding me?” Nathan said. “If you expect to die, the last thing you should do is try to leave behind a fatherless child!” “They would not be fatherless, they would have Jeffrey,” Wano said. “Unless you are trying to say Jeffrey is a mother, but I learned that's not very ‘progressive’ or something.” Nathan growled in frustration. “You know what I meant! Creating a child just to walk out on them is so irresponsible! You need to give me a much better reason than that! But there isn't one because that's bullshit!” Wano frowned. “You don't understand… I want to be a father. This could be my last chance.” “Wano, you're deportation is only two months away,” Nathan said. “Even if you did get Jeffrey pregnant right now, you won't be here when they're born. And return applications can take a long time. You might not be able to even see the baby for a few years. You'd be more of a sperm donor than a father.” Wano shook his head. “You think that. I don't care what you think.” Nathan had enough. “Whether you see it that way or not, I'm not going to facilitate this in my home. You can't have Jeffrey over here anymore. You didn't have permission in the first place.” Wano stepped right up to Nathan and loomed over him. “What are you going to do? You can't stop me.” Nathan wasn't going to take this. He straightened up and growled, glaring down at Wano. When he tried to speak though, he could only emit a loud thunderous snarl. Wano immediately backed off and looked genuinely scared. “Nathan?” Nathan realised suddenly that something was wrong. Wano had a couple inches on him. It shouldn't have been possible for him to look down on the Eclulan and yet there he stood looming a good foot over the frightened alien. The twins in their pen nearby had both turned, Grace starting to howl and Gabriel letting out little bear cries as well. “The wolf…” Wano emitted. “Nathan, you're big…” Nathan looked at his own hands and saw the fur grown straight out all over, and his claws curled out longer than he'd ever seen. Panicked, he turned about looking for something reflective. He found a new pot and looked into the polished surface. In his reflection he didn't recognise himself. His hair had grown over his face, his ears had elongated past his head with fur all over and all his teeth had pointed. He was looking into the face of the wolf for the first time. Wano was doing his best not to cower in fear. He kept eye contact with Nathan while he tried to figure out what to do. “Nathan… Are you okay? I am…sorry…” Nathan didn't want to scare Wano but any time he talked it just came out as growls and snarls. He waved his hands to try and communicate for Wano not to worry and then he pointed to his phone on the counter which he couldn’t pick up himself now without scratching or crushing. “You want me to call?” Wano asked. “Dax? APID? The doctor?” Nathan just nodded. Any of them would do so long as they could help. “I'll call Dax.” Wano picked up the phone and dialled. In the meantime, Nathan tried sitting so he could calm down. He yipped uncomfortable as sitting initially cause him some pain. He realised he suddenly had a tail and he'd sat right down on it. Trying again, he leaned forward and sat down without crushing anything. It didn't make sense. It was daytime, he was still part man, and he was conscious. Nothing like this had ever happened before and he was scared. He put his face in his hands and took deep breaths, just trying to calm down. After a few minutes, Wano put down the phone and came around the kitchen counter to where Nathan sat. He looked him over and then touched his shoulder. “Nathan? Are you okay?” Nathan tensed up at Wano's touch but when he pulled his hands from his face, they were normal again. Or rather, relatively normal, he still had his permanent claws but they were back down to a manageable size, same as his canine teeth. He touched his face and felt the smooth hairless skin. He heaved a sigh and looked up to his friend. “Wano…” The Eclulan smiled. “You are alright. You are not wolf.” “I don't know what happened...” Nathan was shaking and he couldn't help tearing up. “What was that?” “Dax called the doctors to see you,” Wano informed him. “I am sorry… If I did not anger you…” Nathan shook his head. “No, I…” He tried to steady his breathing. “There's a monster in me…” Wano could tell words weren't helping his friend at all but he didn't want to see him like this. He got down on his knees and pulled him into a hug. Nathan shuddered and wrapped his arms around Wano's torso. He just wanted to calm down and get back to normal. “You are nice guy, not monster,” Wano said gently. “Thanks…” Nathan managed. The twins were still exchanging animal cries and Nathan started getting up to check on them. “Nathan, no. Just relax,” Wano said. “I'll take care of them. You rest.” Nathan sighed but agreed. “Okay, I... Maybe I'll take a shower...” “Yes, sounds good,” Wano encouraged. Nathan did so and went upstairs to shower. The sensation of the water running over him helped him feel more attached to his body, something transformation often disconnected for him. He thought he'd always wanted to be conscious as the wolf, not to lose all control, and yet this sudden transformation had made him feel betrayed. He wondered what Syd or even Korsgaard would have to say about it. He only imagined they'd want to recreate it. APID would want it studied. But he had no idea how it happened or what triggered it. He didn't want to think it was his emotions because the idea of being irate and becoming a dangerous monster scared him the most. The last thing he wanted was to endanger his friends and family. He just wanted to forget it happened at all.

#lore #Nathan #Jeffrey #Wano #alien #fairy #werewolf #implied mpreg

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btsslowburnfic · 4 years

Text

Born to be Yours Chapter 9

Story Summary: For Namjoon, the moment he set his sights on being the #1 rapper, he pushed the symbol to the side and hated it. Love should be chosen, not forced on you. He didn’t believe in fate and this mark on his wrist was a big “fuck you” to all that.

Chapter summary: After party. SEXY TIME

A/N: This chapter contains mature content. It is marked XD Please only read if you are 18 +

Previous chapter found here: Chapter 8

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All of you end up back at your regular studio, across town from Robert's and the Theater. It has a large atrium that has been decorated for a private after party. You watch as the guys give interviews with their production crew that will be shared with ARMY. You turn and smile as you drink some of the sparkling punch and chat with Xavier.

“Ok. I’ve decided. We’re touring with Ava Max.” He says, clinking his glass up to yours.

“Sounds good to me. I’ll send that contract to our lawyer and then we can sign it.” you take out your phone and type a note into your calendar for tomorrow.

“Act cool.” Xavier whispers awkwardly to you, “soulmate inbound.”

“Oh God why are you this way?” you tease him and turn around to see RM walking over to the table you two are standing at.

“Hey. All done with your interviews?” you ask, trying to sound casually even though you feel your heart racing.

“For now. We have them pretty much nonstop.” he says, walking up to the table. He looks at Xavier, “Hey man, I’m really sorry about earlier. I’m glad it seems like the two of you made up.”

“No worries. I was way out of line. It’s all good. I am going to go and find Joe though. I promised I’d introduce him to Jimin. Take care,” Xavier excuses himself leaving just the two of you standing there.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he says quietly.

You pretend to look around like you are confused and then point to yourself, “Me? Are you talking about me?” you laugh.

He smiles, “Yes you.” his voice sounding more relaxed and casual than you’ve ever heard it.

“Oh stop. I’m sure you say that to all your soulmates.” you tease.

He chuckles. “Yeah. About that. This whole thing is so weird. After tomorrow I won’t see you again.”

Damn he really went straight for that. “Yep. Back to the usual. You, jet-setting around the world and winning awards. Me, teaching fitness classes and directing. The excitement never stops.” you sip your drink, wishing it had alcohol in it.

“So is this where you normally work then?”

“Yes, but it’s usually much more boring. All of the fancy stuff is only out for you guys. The couches and rugs are even rented for just tonight,” you laugh.

“Would you mind giving me a tour?” he asks shyly.

“Really? You want a tour of my office? Are you allowed to just wander around like that without a camera crew?” you raise your eyebrows, feigning concern

He scoffs, “Yes. and yes. Occasionally we are allowed to wander off.”

“Ok. But this is going to be the most boring tour you have ever been on. Do you think anyone else wants to come along?” you ask.

“No.” he says, almost too soon. He covers up for this by adding, “I already asked them before I came over.”

You get the feeling he’s lying but you don’t know why. You also feel an awkward mix of happy, sad, and nervous. This dude is a mess. It’s a good thing he’s hot and also leaving tomorrow; you don’t think you could deal if you actually had to be around him much longer.

“Alright, come along. I’ll show you the ins and outs of this fitness studio. It’s extremely unique. We have 4.5 stars online.” you remark dryly as you begin the tour.

The two of you eventually end up on the second floor, “and here are the staff offices. I’m kind of a big deal around here so I get a real office with a door and everything. You smirk.

“Oh really? Wow, you’re moving up in the world”

“Hey hey we can’t all be idols. Some of us have to do the behind the scenes work.

Seriously though, congratulations. I really mean that,” you say smiling. “I can tell you guys work really hard.”

“Thank you.” he flashes his dimples at you.

You turn the handle to your office and flip on the light. “Here it is. Now,” you say as you walk into your office, “maybe you can tell me why you’re being a giant weirdo who’s lying to me about suddenly wanting a tour.”

He kicks his foot around nervously, “I uh, wanted to speak to you in private.”

You click your tongue, “Uh-huh. Ok. What did you want to talk about?”

He lets out a brief sigh. “That’s the thing. I don’t know. Nothing? Everything? I’m just so confused.”

You stand there and assess him standing there looking like an over-sized puppy dog at the moment.

“Yeah. Soulmate things are a real trip.” you comment and walk all the way into the office.

“Come on in.” He follows you as you turn back and face him.You pull him into the office. “You’re leaving in the morning right?”

“Yes,” you see him shifting uncomfortably.

“Well, as you can tell from our wrists, I need you to not injure yourself. Got it?” you ask.

Namjoon smiled, “I’ll see what I can do, but you should know I am accident prone,”

“Fuck. Really?” you respond mildly pouting.

“Sorry,” he responds looking down. You suddenly feel a pang of sadness. You realize it’s coming from him. What the fuck dude.

“Well, it’s been nice to work with you guys. It will really look good on my resume,” you tease. v

“What are you nervous about?” he asks you abruptly.

“Pardon?”

“I can feel that you’re nervous.”

“Well I can feel that you’re sad but you don’t see me making you talk about it,” you respond defensively.

The two of you stare at each other for a few seconds.

“This is stupid,” you say.

“What is?” Namjoon responds irritated.

“This,” you gesture to your wrist, “this whole thing. Like I don’t need a fucking oven timer on my body telling me who I’m supposed to be with. And clearly it doesn’t even work right.”

“Agreed.” He responds.

“Also you get angry too easily,” you respond, feeling your heart racing, “I’m a very chill person usually but since meeting you my fitbit heart rate monitor is all over the place,”

“Me? I am usually a picture of calm. You are still nervous.”

“So? You’ve been angry and jealous all day and I didn’t say anything to you about it. Why are you jealous when you don’t even want me?” you say before you can stop yourself.

He stands there for a minute, looking at you and slowly closes the distance. “I don’t want to be forced into being with someone because of a soulmark. But when you look like that,” he gestures to you, “I don’t know how you could think I wouldn’t want you.”

Your breath is caught in your throat as you replay what he just said. “Fine. Here’s why I’m nervous, I can’t stop thinking about this” you say as you grab him by his suit jacket and plant a kiss on his lips. Even though the whole thing is stupid, you feel like you would regret it for the rest of your life if you didn’t at least kiss your soulmate. To your surprise, his entire posture softens and you feel the low level irritation fade from your body. He begins kissing you back and you feel butterflies in your stomach. Holy shit, kissing has never felt like this before. You have had quite a few boyfriends but nothing has ever compared to this. The two of you continue to make out for several minutes.

You pull away and look at him. When he’s not talking he’s really fucking hot. And watching him perform made you proud. Your soulmate was a badass. Even if he was an asshole sometimes.

“What’s that about?” Namjoon manages to ask, not releasing his hands from your waist.

“I just thought we should try it since we won’t get another opportunity. I didn’t want to spend the rest of my life wondering.” you respond honestly. To your surprise, Namjoon leans in and kisses you more.

_________________SEXY TIME_____________________________

“ I agree completely,” he pulls you close and kisses you again. This kiss feels as good as sex. There is nothing that has ever compared to it before. Time slows down. You run your hand through his hair. "Oh my God," you breathe out. His hands have started to explore your body, rubbing around your hips and ass, pulling your body close to his. You can feel his hardness now that the two of you are so close. At this moment you know what's going to happen next. He looks at you with a certain question in his eyes and you know exactly what he’s asking. You walk over and lock the door and turn the overhead lights off. You walk with a purpose back over to him and strip him of his suit jacket. “Take off your shirt or I am fucking ripping it off,” you command him. To your surprise he complies.

“That shirt costs $900,” he says as he gingerly folds it up.

“That’s stupid,” you respond and start kissing him again, your hands gripping his arms.

“It is,” he agrees and grabs your body again, pulling it up against his as he devours your mouth. He lifts you up and sits you on your desk. You are suddenly thankful you inherited the heavy wooden desk from the previous building tenets. He gently sucks on your neck.

“Hey! No marks,” you admonish him.

He leans in close to your ear, “Did you just remember you have a boyfriend, sweetheart?” and he's right. And you should feel bad but at this exact moment you don’t give a fuck. “I also have a soulmate,” you respond as you take his face in your hands and start kissing him again. He smells so good. Like cologne and sweat and something else that makes you melt. You feel him searching your back for your dress zipper. You laugh a little.

“What?” he sounds pissy.

“It’s a side zipper. It’s stupid. Here, let me,” you awkwardly unzip it and wiggle your dress so that it’s up over your hips. “It has to go over my head.” He looks confused. “Girl clothes are weird.” you summarize for him.

He kisses you again and you wait for him to take your dress off but to your surprise he doesn't. You wrap your legs around him, pushing his erection against your thin panties. It has the desired effect as you hear him moan into your mouth. He keeps one hand wrapped around you as the other one travels down to your thigh. It creeps up to your panties. He places his fingers against your panties, “Jesus. These are soaked. You want me don’t you?”

You respond by palming his dick, “You’re one to talk.” His breath catches in his throat for a moment. You smirk, “That’s what I thought,”

He responds by pulling your panties to the side and stroking your clit. “Mmm” you moan against his neck.

“Yeah, you like that don’t you?” You have no smart ass comment for that. Fuck yes you like that. “Yesss…” He removes your underwear the rest of the way and continues to stroke you as the two of you kiss. He pulls back and before you can even process it, he’s down on his knees with his head between your legs. “Fuck.” you cry out. You feel the perfect combination of his lips and tongue on your folds. You run a hand through his hair, pulling on some of it. He stands back up a minute later, grabbing the back of your neck and pressing the two of your mouths together, causing you to taste yourself. Jesus. You hear him undo his belt buckle and undo his zipper.

"I don't suppose you have a bed hiding in here somewhere?"

"Nope," you reply and bend over on the desk so your ass is sticking out in the air. You peek back behind you to see him staring dumbstruck at your naked figure. "You'll just have to fuck me right here. Good thing you've got strong leg muscles."

He walks closer and runs his hands over your ass. You can feel the heat of his cock nearing you.

"You want me to fuck you on this desk?" you feel him move his hand between your legs and he slowly sticks a finger inside you.

"Yes. Do you think you can manage that?"

He sticks another finger into you and pumps them in and out. It feels so good.

"I'm sure I can figure it out." you feel the heat from the head of his dick at your entrance as he pushes your legs apart and plants his hands on your hips.

He leans over to whisper in your ear. "We can stop if you want to." such a gentleman when he wasn't being an ass.

"No. I want this. If you do."

"Do you have a condom?"

"I don't usually have sex with random people in my office. So no. I'm on the pill though."

"Good enough," you hear him say and then without warning you feel him enter you. You cry out a bit in surprise.

"Shit. Are you OK?"

You give an awkward thumbs up.

He starts slowly moving in and out of you his balls slapping against you. “No marks,right?” you hear him say roughly.

“You better fucking not,” you hiss behind you trying to stay quiet since people are still in the building.

“I’m going to fuck you so hard and so good you will be ruined for anyone else. Do you understand?” he slams into you roughly.

“I’m sorry, I’m a little confused. Could you please clarify?” you retort. Since when did he think you took orders? He responds by slamming into you even harder and jerking your ponytail.

“You’re my soulmate.” he growls out, “You can go play house with whoever you want but I want you to remember, I’m the best you have ever fucking have or will ever have.” Holy shit this felt amazing. He was filling you up hard and fast. He stopped. “I said, do you fucking understand?”

“Keep going,” you turn and plead. He grips your ass, keeping you in place. “I said do you understand?”

“Yes. Now get back to fucking me,” you pout.

“That’s more like it sweetheart,” he grips your hips and resumes thrusting into your wet core. He is right. You have never had sex like this. It feels so good and so fulfilling. You lightly moan and put your mouth against your arm to muffle the sounds.

“Shit, you feel so good." you hear him say from behind you.

"Fuck me Rm." you whisper harshly.

He picks up the pace, slamming into you. It doesn’t take very long between the soulmate thing, the fact that people are downstairs, and the sexual tension.

As you get close he reaches around to stroke your clit, causing you to tightly clench around him as you see stars and orgasm. He follows suit a minute later; you feel the cum already starting to drip out of you.

“Jesus Christ,” you say. You feel him slowly pull out and hear him slowly putting his pants back on. You stand back up and turn around. You are surprised to see him looking very sad and uncertain.

“Did I actually hurt you?” he asks, surprisingly gently.

“If you did don’t you think your dick would hurt?” you wink at him and laugh.

“You have such a filthy mouth,” he teases you.

“Please. Five minutes ago you had me yelling “fuck me RM” I don’t want to hear it.” you smile and give him a light shove. You walk over to your desk and get some baby wipes you keep in there. You grab yourself some and then toss the pack at him. You go to your gym bag and throw on some clean panties.

_________________SEXY TIME END_____________________________

You sigh and walk over to unlock your office door. "Well, congratulations again on your award." you say as you turn the handle. He slams the door shut again, pinning you between him and the door. He looks like he wants to say something and you feel that he is working through a bunch of emotions. "Hey," you say and put your arms around his waist. "I don't regret it." you kiss him and focus on trying to feel at ease to help calm him down. "OK?" you rub your hands along the back of his neck.

"Yeah. OK." he responds quietly. He takes your right arm and pushes your bracelets out of the way so your mark is showing. He rubs it gently with his thumb.

"Come on, you have an early morning." you say as you move to open the door.

He follows you out down the hallway and you see the rest of the band hanging out in the reception hall.

"Alright, take care of yourself dude. Try not to be too much of an asshole." you smile and straighten his suit jacket. "Go. Celebrate with your band, you guys earned it." You summon all of your strength and walk over to the rest of the guys. You bow slightly, "Congratulations!" they all respond with their various "Thank you's"

"Take care!" you wave and head out to your car. This was not how you thought your night was going to go. You had sex with your soul mate. You had cheated on Ben. You needed to get out of there. You sit in your car waiting to feel guilty or bad. But it doesn't come. Instead you just feel a deep sadness about never seeing RM again.You breathe out deeply and start the car. Back to normal. Yeah right. NEXT CHAPTER

#bts rm fanfic #bts fanfic #bts au fanfic #bts fanfction #bts rm x you #bts soulmate au #bts smut #rm smut #bts namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon smut #namjoon scenarios

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knives-out20 · 3 years

Text

Discrepancy - Dean Corso x Male!OC - #3

Fandom: The Ninth Gate (1999)

Pairing: Ambrósio ‘Ambrose’ Fargas (OC) x Dean Corso

Warnings: Swearing, Faggotry, Spoilers for The Ninth Gate, Flirting, Homoerotism, Sexual phone stuff but not phone sex y’know, Ambrósio has no chill and knows no bounds y’all,

Notes: what is going ON y’all....lmao

Dean lay on the bed of his hotel room in Paris, talking to Ambrósio over the phone. "Ambrósio, how are you holding up?"

"I'm lying down if that answers your question, Dean" Ambrósio answered, definitely wearing a shit-eating grin.

Lying down, Dean thought. "What're you doing?"

"Oh, I dunno...talking to some shady book dealer over the telephone."

"I'm shady?" Dean chuckled. "First I'm out of place, and now I'm shady?"

"Yea, man, what the fuck is with your fucking gray hairs around your ears, you got premature graying or something?" Ambrósio inquired, squinting a bit.

"Have you just been thinking about the hairs around my ears lately?"

"I've been thinking of more than the hair around your ears, Dean."

"My facial hair?" Dean teased.

"More than your hair, man."

Dean grinned, "ever the flirt?"

"I try my best, Corso." Ambrósio rubbed his thigh, biting the edge of his lip.

"You been, uh...back at the house, as of late?"

Ambrósio shrugged. "Carmen let me go back to check it out with her really buff boyfriend, like, wrestler-type buff, Jeronimo's huge."

"Is he setting some high expectations up for me?"

Ambrósio decided to mess with Dean. He put on a puzzled tone, "who said they're for you?"

This caught Dean off-guard, like Ambrósio wanted it to. "Oh- uh, nothing, I just- all this had led me to assume-"

"Chill, man, calm down, I'm playing around" Ambrósio giggled. "It felt a bit...grim, but that's obvious, y'know? I mean, with...the reason why I'm staying with my friends in the first place."

"Yea."

A moment of silence struck the two before Ambrósio asked Dean another question. "Where are you right now?"

Dean's gaze darted around his hotel room. "In a hotel."

"Central?"

Dean slowly licked his lips in thought. "Uhh...Sure." He nodded, pulling out a slip of paper and a pen. "I'm staying at this Hotel Central place nearby, in this room. You can reach me there if you're specific."

"No, no. Out of the country." Dean corrected him.

Ambrósio scoffed, "yea, so where are you?"

"France. Ever been?"

"You offering?"

"Again?"

"I'm assuming that's a no."

Ambrósio broke out into a smile as he leaned back in his seat. "Does adoption not exist in America, or wherever?" He giggled. "I'm adopted, half-Pakistani."

"Ever been?"

"You offering?" Ambrósio joked.

"Don't lose hope" Dean smiled. "If I grow to like you enough, decide I need some sort of companionship in my life, I'll reach out."

"You make it seem like it'll be a privilege to me, to be able to hang out with you. It's quite the opposite."

"Oh, really?"

"Yea. It'll be a privilege to you, or rather anyone, to hang out with me, Ambrósio Fargas."

"That's true. Any new up-comings with your..uh...grandfather?"

"Mmh." Ambrósio hummed in a gloomy way. "Jeronimo has an uncle that's in the funeral business. He'll help with all the funeral stuff for my Avô."

"Wish I could come."

"It's like you want to be out of place, Dean, jeez" Ambrósio laughed.

Dean liked listening to Ambrósio's laughter, even more-so since he caused it. He assumes he just liked that he was able to make Ambrósio smile during this suddenly-dark time in his life, given the abrupt death of Victor and all.

Ambrósio and Dean got hit with another moment of comfortable silence. It seemed to be a running thing between the two men.

"You still lying down?"

"On my bed in Carmen's guest bedroom, yea. Why? You gonna ask me what I'm wearing?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if you're still wearing that red shirt."

"I have a damn washing machine, Dean" Ambrósio licked his lips. "It's unbuttoned just like the first time you saw it."

"You wearing those gray pants, too? With the stripes?"

Ambrósio hummed his answer, meaning a 'no." "I'm wearin' some shorts, actually. Switching things up, today. What're you wearing, Corso?"

"Same things from the day you first saw me."

"Not one for changes, eh?" Ambrósio questioned. "Well, no. You probably are, given that Balkan's making you go here 'n' there around the globe for some old books 'n'...whatever. Y'know?"

"Yea," Dean nodded. "I'm really sorry, too, Ambrósio. About your grandfather. I never meant for this to happen to him, I didn't anticipate it like you did, but anticipation really has nothing to do with it." He explained. "I'm sorry."

"It's nothing. My Avô was old as hell anyway, Dean. He was bound to go sometime, but I just...not so soon. He was a good man."

"I'm sure he was, he seemed like it."

Ambrósio smiled. "You're a good man, too."

"Really?"

"Yea." Ambrósio nodded. "You, you- you didn't need to give me your hotel number that night you first came, you didn't need to come inside the house to call for me the other day. You didn't need to make sure I was okay, and gonna be okay. You didn't need to make sure I had some place to stay, or ask for Carmen's number in order to reach me. Hell, you don't need to be talking to me right now" he listed out, admittedly blushing a bit.

"But...I am."

"But you are, exactly. You added me into your little equation when you had the choice to leave me in your memories as Fargas' pretty, queer grandkid."

"'Pretty'?" Dean repeated.

"I'm fucking divine, Dean, it's in my name. Meanwhile, Dean means like...'valley.'"

"Would you describe me as a valley, Ambrose?"

"A valley of weird gray hairs, some round glasses, dark academia, and an angular face."

"You think my face is angular?"

"In a good way, pretty boy."

Dean smirked to himself, dragging his free hand slowly down the side of his face. "You think I'm pretty, too?"

"I thought the flirting made it obvious."

"I'm more than a pretty face, y'know" Dean sassed.

"Well, duh. I'm not shallow" Ambrósio scoffed. "I like when we talk, too, and not just for your voice-"

"You like my voice?"

"I've told you this before!"

Ambrósio chortled. "I don't only listen to Hendrix and Foreigner, Dean, Jesus Christ."

"Who else do you listen to?"

Ambrósio stepped back, towards his staircase. "I could listen to you. You sound like you could do a number on people if you sing."

Dean knowingly shook his head, looking down to hide his smile. "I don't sing, but...thanks."

Dean hummed in agreement. "You mentioned reciting poetry, when I met you."

"Yessir."

"What writers do you like?"

"Aw, damn, uh..." Ambrósio scratched his jaw in thought. "Baudelaire, definitely. And JP Marquand, Oscar Wilde, and Lord Byron. To name a few."

"Quite an array."

"You like?"

"I wouldn't shy away from the names. It's an impressive list."

"Thank you, I know." Ambrósio smiled, proud of himself.

"You still lying down?"

"Yea, what're you doing?"

"Lying down, on my hotel room's bed, talking to the dreamy, divine grandson of Victor Fargas." Dean flirted, stroking his beard.

Ambrósio poked the inside of his cheek with his tongue. "I am dreamy."

"You really are."

"So..."

"So?"

"So, we're just both lying down, on our beds, talking to each other over the telephone?"

"Why, would you rather be doing something else, with somebody else?" Dean joked.

Ambrósio raised his eyebrows. "I'd rather be doing something else that involves being on a bed, with you...Doing a far more scandalous activity than just talking."

Dean fought back a grin, looking over at the wall. "You're on quite the roll, huh?"

"Whether it be the romantic poets I indulge in, or my natural-born charm, the world may never know."

"I think it's just you, honestly."

"I'm touched." Ambrósio placed his free hand over his chest, where his heart lay underneath. "Oh, also- I figured out another song you remind me of."

"Really? Which?"

"Poison by Alice Cooper. I was gonna say his other song Feed My Frankenstein for the sake of the title and sexual themes, but there's lyrics in there regarding a body part that neither I nor you have...I'm assuming. There's nothing wrong with if you do, though. I have a guy friend with the body part, but he's saving up money to get rid of it."

Dean's eyebrows jumped. "You listen to Alice Cooper?"

"Sometimes, do you?"

"Not really my thing."

"Ah, yes, let me guess." Ambrósio raised a finger in thought. "You enjoy sitting back in leather armchairs, surrounded by dusty, possibly-expensive books and listening to the likes of Debussy, Chopin...I happen to like Tchaikovsky myself, if he's any your style."

Dean laughed softly. "No, not actually. I don't know what I listen to, I don't know if it could be classified as one thing."

"If you ever come back to Portugal, we could listen to my records together 'n' see what you're into" Ambrósio offered.

"Are you asking me out?" Dean joked.

"Don't flatter yourself. I'm a gentleman, I'd buy you dinner, first." Ambrósio corrected him. "I'm just flirting your socks of for the time being." He told, sliding a hand through his dark hair; he closed his eyes and gave it a tug, trying to imagine that it was someone else, someone specific, tugging his hair in his bed.

"I'm not wearing any socks right now."

"Task complete." Ambrósio nodded slowly, sure of himself. His smile grew when he heard Dean's slight laugh through the phone.

"Dinner, huh?"

"Yea. Wine, music, candlelight, the whole shebang. Again, a gentleman."

"The sound of it does intrigue me."

"That's the goal" Ambrósio stared up at the ceiling.

"Your activity from before, regarding a bed...What would that include?" Dean didn't know what he was doing, nor what he was hoping to accomplish, but liked the power it held over Ambrósio trying to flirt with him...Well, trying and succeeding, but he liked playing a hard-to-get guy.

"Oh, I'm not entirely sure." Ambrósio partially lied. "Winding, twisting, turning, gyrating, writhing...incessant writhing" he purred. "Perhaps some assorted debaucheries along the way."

"You can be so charming when you want something, eh, Ambrose?"

"Or someone," Ambrósio added. "And I can be so charming, full stop."

"Of course you can."

"Alright, how can I get to you, Dean?" Ambrósio asked him. "Tell me the rules." He whispered through the telephone, Dean stifling a shiver.

"Can I trust you?" Dean playfully rolled his eyes.

"Oh, my dearest Dean, have I given you any reason not to?"

"That's true."

Ambrósio's voice turned into another whisper, "you and I could be as thick as fuckin' thieves. Tell me the rules, Dean." His fingers stroked from his chin to his cheek, a faraway look on his face.

Dean could just imagine the look on Ambrósio's face as they spoke. "First, you gotta tell me if I can call you 'chico' yet."

"Beg for it, like you wanted to" Ambrósio reminded him, free hand trailing down his neck, down his torso.

Dean turned back around, seeing Ambrósio holding onto the opened gate. "What is it, chico? Can I call you ‘chico’?"

“If you ask nicely.”

Dean rolled his eyes knowingly, “save either one of us begging for something from the other for another time.” He finally flirted back.

Dean held a knowing expression on his face. He should've expected this.

"No problem, Ambrose. Can I call you 'chico', yet?"

"Only if you beg like you wanted to." Ambrósio flirted.

Dean looked around in thought, "wouldn't you rather in person?"

"Would either one of us want to travel seventeen-ish hours for you to beg me for something so small in the midst of your big book mission?" Ambrósio rhetorically asked. "You wanna call me 'chico', you gotta do what you suggested. It was your words, not mine, big man."

Dean hummed. "Please?"

"'Please' what?"

Dean giggled quietly. "Please, can I call you 'chico'? Please?" He insisted, "please? Let me call you 'chico', Ambrósio, please."

Ambrósio had a smug look on his face, "you may."

"That was barely any begging."

"Let's save actual begging for some other time, when we're closer together. Okay, amor?"

"Okay, chico."

"I also thought of another song."

"You're full of them for someone who supposedly couldn't think of any."

"Shut up," Ambrósio chuckled. "I Was Made For Loving You."

Dean licked his lips, "by Kiss?"

"You like Kiss?" Ambrósio looked surprised.

"I know Kiss, and I know the song you mentioned. How come I never remind you of any Jimi Hendrix songs?"

"That's not my problem" Ambrósio replied. "I Was Made For Loving You, Dean. Take it or leave it."

"Y'know what, Ambrósio?" Dean inquired. "Maybe you were."

"Not even 'maybe', Dean. I know I am." Ambrósio checked the time. "Listen, I gotta get going, a guy's gotta run. Talk soon?"

"Sure thing, chico."

"Bye, Dean. Stay safe."

"You too."

Ambrósio and Dean hung up their phones, Ambrósio's head spinning of round glasses, prominent cheekbones and smooth voices as he left the bedroom. Whereas Dean stayed where he was, rubbing his thighs with thoughts of dark, soulful eyes, inked-up torsos, and dreamy grandsons.

Both of them just hoped Dean's mission would end quick so the two could talk physically again, or maybe do a greater deal than talking.

#the ninth gate 1999 #the ninth gate #the ninth gate oc #dean corso #dean corso x oc #dean corso x male!oc #dean corso x male #oc #ZAYN oc #zayn malik oc #male oc #oc x male #oc x canon #canon x oc #canon x male #male x male #male x oc #male x canon

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largeballz · 3 years

Note

Poem for Myself on my Fiftieth Birthday

Never written a poem for yourself

have you, you daft old bugger? Well

here goes.

Dignified or messy deaths

come closer every time. Lament for the makars?

The living ones are being archived now

and the thought is chilling. Who reads us

anyway? A small scattered band of aficionados?

Callow students? Readers for the Scottish

Certificate of Education Examination Board?

Well-heeled professors of literature?

Burns would have laughed his head off.

It did come off when they disinterred him

for a more elegant burial.

Newspapers and TV are full

of former acquaintances and new names

presenting a melange somewhat similar

to that I touted too sincerely at their ages.

Each day the news is less new, more predictable,

just a habit.

And yet, and yet…

a spirited child, a calm intelligent friend,

uproarious and surrealistic situations, fools,

shysters, hustlers, the gamey lights of the demi-monde,

iridescent butterflies shimmering above the machair,

the panache with which our children live their lives,

a song, a poem, a breaking of the heart –

life-force or what have you, I’m in love with you.

And an arsenal of nuclear hardware

stashed half-a-mile away.

Children keep being born and growing up

and leaving. Life in its wild Heraclitan flux

moves faster, cash-in-hand for spending.

Booze, tobacco, entertainment, sex

and sometimes even eating lose their frisson,

become nearly inconveniences. Is this my climacteric?

More wakefulness. More solitude. More laughter.

More tolerance. Fewer extremes.

Less physical strength. Less time.

I monitor my changes like a hawk.

Family crises blow up in mushroom clouds

of ferocity and passion – and now I hesitate

before steaming in to shed my little light

on grief, and fear’s catharsis.

It often seems that I have known and experienced

too much – houses, cars, careers, countries,

battles, lovers, the tidal waves of marriages

and divorces, journeys through the night,

separations, hatreds, many self-deceptions,

a million bars and conversations, ideas,

political nonsenses, theories about this and that,

thousands of books and projects, religions,

philosophies, mysticisms, hallucinations, sleep,

dreams and tears and that hypnagogic state

where creativity stirs; breakdowns, self-witnessing

and the stopped mind; gradual changes

and sudden self-developments; complete

about-turns in other people’s lives and in my own;

the absolute exigencies of sheer

survival – and yet I know nothing at all

– who does?

The build-up of existential paradoxes

and mysterious synchronicities accelerates

until I pay less and less attention

they are all so self-pervading.

Manure, the Buddhists call all that,

in which one plants the seeds

of an anonymous simpler life

and a new way of being.

After the storm which shook my house

a dozen swans

fly over

crying among themselves.

I am entranced!

Where yesterday the grey and white Atlantic

crashed in huge breakers along the familiar shore

today three minute violet-starred jellyfish

bob gently inside a gentle wave

– how did they stick together through that carnage?

An otter, laughing, swims on his back.

Two eagles circle in the stark blue sky.

We drag down

our little boat and cross the sea-loch

through snorting porpoises and the oily slick

which means herring below. The land recedes.

Halfway across, the wind suddenly veers and rises.

Flurries of snow come thicker.

We steer into waves much higher than the boat.

On the other shore, laughing at my own jokes,

I slip on icy seaweed, break my wrist,

and instantly am a child again.

The roads are impassable. Happy birthday!

a long one but worth the read thank you poet anon <3

#poet anon

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chiimmchiimm · 4 years

Text

❝ 𝓢𝔀𝓮𝓮𝓽 𝓶𝓸𝓸𝓷 !¡ 𝒿𝓀 ❞

The largest herd on the entire East Coast would have a new leader. Qualities were of utmost importance to them, a good alpha had to possess a sense of justice and a beta woman to augment his legacy. Jungkook's parents had accepted their marriage since before he was born. The second strongest family, the Lightwoods, had a perfect beta daughter for their son. However, one night after an unexpected event, Jungkook decided to marry his youngest daughter.

𝒫𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Jungkookwolf au x (female:Lucy) 𝒢𝑒𝓃𝓇𝑒: smut, wolf au, fluff, angst, one shot. 𝒲𝑜𝓇𝒹𝓈: 16 k 𝑅𝒶𝓃𝓆𝓊𝒾𝓃𝑔: +18 𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔: abuse, violence, , sadness, psychological abuse, dirty lenjuage, naked, muscles, mating, cumshot, bite, sex. 𝒜𝓊𝓉𝒽𝑜𝓇’𝓈 𝓃𝑜𝓉𝑒: This is my first one shot of this theme I hope you enjoy it. If there is a lot of demand, maybe make another one with the member you choose most.

Social pressure could be included within the determining factors for anyone to lose their reason, their own identity. Jungkook always considered himself a strong person, both physically and mentally. His education had been one of the best in town, the most neat and disciplined so that I could deal with any problem that might arise. Being the firstborn of an Alpha family was not easy, he lived constantly under the rules, absurd duties and constant dialogues about loyalty.

In Dyonisia, everyone envied him, and for that reason, he always walked alone. He did not like people, he did not like to make friends for convenience, to feel like a sample object to flatter their families. He preferred to sink under his father's extensive library, though he never said no to a walk on the Hun River.

That morning, his father had practically forced him to get out of those four walls, breathe air, take a bit of color, inviting him to interact with the other betas or omegas in town. He had only built a small friendship with a beta, Jimin, the son of his father's assistant, a very brief relationship just by spending good morning, but Jungkook found it pleasant. Perhaps it was her sympathy and the kind smile that she gave her mother every time she brought her hot chocolate. He used to watch those scenes from a porch seat with a book on his lap and another cup to go with. He never got too close, fearing the same rejection as the same betas of his kind. They were supposed to respect him (or at least that's what they did in public) but they never missed an opportunity to denigrate his taste for loneliness, to process low words towards his low weight and unattractiveness. This was her childhood, subjected to constant ridicule that seemed endless.

So when Jungkook culminated in the hormonal process of puberty, his alpha genetics came out in the way his muscles protruded above all those scrawny betas. At twenty-two, he possessed all the qualities necessary to be the new Alpha Chief.

I inhale deeply, filling my lungs with rich natural oxygen. He had always loved the wild smell of pine leaves, the crisp sound of boots as he stepped on dry leaves. Feeling comfortable, he gave himself the pleasure of stretching his shoulders to remove all the accumulated tension, placing a hand on his shoulder to massage the neck area.

He dragged his boots down a small slope of land to approach the shore and touch the crystal clear water, he needed to get drunk from that cold and wet feeling left by the river.

It stopped mid-slope when I hear a couple of voices below.

"What's wrong?" It echoed, a thick, coarse voice with an ironic air. A man of medium height with strong arms and a broad back covered by a white tank top. He seemed to be talking to someone but his physiognomy was so robust that it completely covered him. His shoulders fell serene but the tension was palpable in the muscular contraction of his back. —Come on, darling, you're my girlfriend, you love me, I love you, what do others matter?

“I love you, I'm just not ready to go to those kinds of contacts, sorry.”

"But why not?"

Jungkook analyzed his tired tone, shrewdly deducing that it was not the first time that he had insisted. Then, the boy supported the weight of his body with one leg, discovering with this small act, the body of a girl with whom he spoke so uncomfortable. Slowly her eyes widened with involuntary emotion. She felt chills, the movement of her brown hair against the wind seemed unreal, so soft and fluffy that it caused inhuman impulses to touch it. Big, expressive eyes that screamed what he thought: discomfort and some fear. Letting herself be tamed by sudden curiosity, she began to explore her sweet, perfect features, brown skin, small nose, and prominent natural red lips. It seemed like a beam of light in so much darkness, it really was beautiful. A scent of honey rose from her developed nose, an aroma so exquisite that she had to close her eyes briefly to calm the excited red of her irises. "My love, nobody will know, only you and me.I am giving you an option so that you do not have to pass your fever with those harmful drugs.”

Jungkook raised his eyebrows as surprise hit his facial control. Outraged by his low propositions, he frowned. I calculate that he must have been the same age, therefore, it seemed unheard of to him, considering that he did not seem stupid, that he did not know the serious consequences of such acts. He growled, his toes curling inside his shoes. He showered her with loving flattery whenever he could, yet there was something about his insistence that had him truly concerned. He talked to her about mating as if it was just about sex. That act links two people for life, though, only if the male wants. There was something about the way his fists clenched that prompted his instincts to think he was not to be trusted. He could smell the urge from there, a smell so rotten that his mouth suddenly wrinkled. Jungkook tilted his head to the side to examine his distressed expression, hurt by his little collaboration.

"I have said no."

A smile escaped Jungkook's lips without realizing it.

"But Lucy ..."

Her words stayed in the air when she noticed that the girl caught Jungkook's presence. I swallow hard, her expressive eyes staring at him in panic. The boy turned with his hands on his hips, then raised his eyebrows contemptuously at Jungkook. Quite nervous, Jungkook slid down the slope.

"Didn't they teach you not to listen to private conversations, asshole?"

"Tony, let him."

The boy looked at Lucy abruptly.

"What did I leave him? He could tell your parents about us. This jerk might not have good intentions ..."

"Like the ones you have with her?" He growled, his inner wolf shaking its tail eager to get out. For tearing everything in his canines with his canines. He was sure that the vein in his neck had made its appearance, he felt the blood rise suddenly and collect on his head. Lucy stared at him too shocked, then ducked her head in embarrassment, closing her brown eyes. Jungkook didn't want to make her feel bad, damn it, he should have controlled her tone. Her beautiful hair covered her face with such tender grace. How could someone as sweet as her date someone so hypocritical?

"What have you said?"

"What you listen."

"Give up for dead ..."

Lucy put her hands on his chest to stop him.

"Not here," she pleaded, her eyes set on the ground.

The boy shook his body violently and then roared.

The discussion did not get worse because a group of young betas appeared to camp at the foot of the river. Children who laughed tirelessly until they saw the two wolves pulling their teeth out and roaring intensely at each other. Jungkook was forced to calm down and reticulate for the sake of that foolish beta, he could not, rather, he should not. If his father found out that on his first outing, after so long, he had killed off a dead beta, he would be in real trouble. Everyone knew the difference between beta and alpha strength, it wouldn't have cost Jungkook to destroy him, but it wasn't the right thing to do. He returned to his home and sank into the safety of his room. He slept, ate and breathed thinking of those expressive clear eyes.

Located at the foot of a picturesque cabin where the vines climbed the walls emitting a smell of wet leaves from the recent storm. Today was the great day, that one, in which his role as future leader would consolidate, he would take the privilege of meeting his future wife and in the worst case, the mother of his cubs. His mother was almost as nervous as he was as he tried to calm himself down with exaggerated vents. He was convincing himself that it was the best choice. Her father rang the bell with searing assurance.

"Thanks for coming, Joe," said a robust man thanking him for his visit, Jungkook assumed he was responsible for the family. His mother entered first, giving him a nod in greeting, she did not like the contact very much. At a quick glance I notice Jungkook's presence. "Come on in." Is waiting for you.

His future wife.

Your future Alpha.

He nodded resignedly.

She felt a real desire to back down, to return home with some excuse to excuse her sudden flight. However, I end up entering that cozy house. The commitment was something that had always been in force throughout his life, his father kept reminding him how important it was to find the right partner, how essential it was to get someone with good genetics for the litter. But he was never in favor of arranged marriages, he was never in a hurry to establish love relationships. He always thought that fate would be in charge of introducing him to what would be his alpha, but that was just an absurd wish. Since he turned fifteen and hit the first stretch, his father had been in charge of reminding him, every day until today, that his destiny had been decided.

Enveloped by the pleasant heat of the living room. The house was not very big but enough for them. Sometimes those were the best, since a small house with interactions was better than a huge one where ghosts flooded around the corners.

She left her coat on the polished coat rack in the hall, then headed into the living room. He quickly approached the fireplace to take refuge in the crackling wood as it was burned by the fire.

"Carina, daughter, come down. Your fiance has arrived!"

Jungkook stood by the fireplace while he waited. The sound of heels began to echo down the steps. He raised his head as a new scent filled the room, his nose was suffocated by too intense a perfume. It was not annoying, without going any further, but too excessive. Her nose wrinkled in response. His sense of smell was so muffled that he soon began to crave oxygen.

"I was getting ready, mother," she said, in a charming voice.

Jungkook stifled a brief sigh as his eyes closed. Then he turned around and greeted her with a kiss on the hand. Without much more to say, his skin was overly lubricated and flavored with some artificial citrus from some body cream. I take his small bow as a greeting to tour the girl's body. The dress reached to the ankles where high-heeled shoes stood out with pride. The vermilion color with touches of bows matched a small belt. The dress was wide at the bottom, being narrower at the waist area, accentuating it. Then, I look at the artificial details of her makeup, her red lips highlighted by a lipstick, recently, by how fresh they looked. He had to control the movement of his eyebrows to avoid frowning, the girl was beautiful in itself, she did not need as much makeup. He liked natural appearances more like his mother or that girl on the river.

"Nice to meet you..."

"Carina," she added, quickly with a desperation that covered with a sporadic laugh.

Jungkook replied with a small grimace of politeness. Actually, I was tense.

"Where's your sister, darling?" Asked his mother under his breath. The girl shrugged contemptuously as if she wouldn't mind. Jungkook looked away awkwardly, they were talking in front of him like he wasn't.

"Sorry for being late ..."

Lucy ended her hasty career the moment her large eyes saw the figure of Jungkook occupying half of the room. Being totally paralyzed by the impression. Jungkook, who had recognized that voice, turned in his direction, also opening his eyes in surprise. Lucy closed her mouth as fast as she could, nerves beginning to dominate her movements. Both of them looking at each other in total surprise until their sister stood between them.

“Shall we go to the table?” She suggested, a little annoyed at his extreme attention to his sister.

Jungkook reacted, accepting a little disoriented that he would place an arm inside his forearm.

The couple walked to the table, however, there was a moment when Carina looked back to cast a teasing glance at her sister. Lucy rolled her eyes at his childish behavior.

"I was a little nervous because I didn't know how you were going to react. Really, this is crazy. Arranged marriage ..."

Carina talked and talked but he had lost himself in his thoughts shortly after the start of this conventional conversation. Sitting in front of his parents, with her at his side talking to him about anything he didn't even bother to hear. He hadn't yet touched the suckling pig meat that Mrs. Trivia had so skillfully cooked. His mother was talking to his mother, his father was talking to the other about some topic related to hunting, leaving poor Lucy behind, who was playing with the chicken leg with her fork at the other end of the table. He pursed his lips in a pout as he spun the food lost in his world. She felt boredom and a little angry at her mother for forcing her to attend these kinds of meetings. They didn't even get along with their sister, they were totally opposite. Carina was more flirtatious and concerned about much more "feminine" matters (at least that's what she called housework), Lucy was much more adventurous, carefree, she was a ray of sun molten in hope that exuded happiness for her radiant smile. She raised her eyes from the plate when she felt watched. Jungkook averted his gaze as soon as he rested hers on him.

Feeling even more out of place when she unconsciously watched her sister's hand cling to her strong bicep.

His mother was totally focused on a lively conversation with Jungkook's mother, so much so that when the brunette got up and sneaked out the back door, no one noticed her absence.

Holding between his small fingers his large planted chicken leg.

"Dog, I'm bringing you ..."

An excited bark came out from behind a trash can when the stray dog she cared for behind her mother's back, ran at her in desperate gallops. With his tongue hanging out and his eyes drowning in hunger. Lucy, laughing, crouched down and set the plate down for the poor animal to feast on. The dog did not think twice and eagerly put the ozico in. A mixture of saliva and leftovers of meat began to fall on top of his shoes, he did not care too much, he increased the level of his laughter while he filled his head with caresses.

"Why did you run away?"

Frightened by such a compromising scene, Lucy spun back. When she met Jungkook's worried gaze she placed a hand on her chest and sighed in relief.

"You can't run away from a place you never were," he declares, his so ambiguous little confession decreasing in pitch as he turns back to the animal. He repeatedly pats his head as he watches his little fight with the larger area. Jungkook bows his head. He analyzes her curiously, a feeling similar to what she feels for him.

"Sorry," he whispers. Jungkook stops looking at the animal, directs his frown at her while undoing the smile that he doesn't know when he's formed. "This morning. Tony's."

-Why do you apologize? It wasn't your fault. ”Confused, he intensifies the wrinkle on his forehead.

"For not respecting you, Alpha. If I had known that ..."

"Stop justifying an apology," he replies, through an excessively abruptness. Lucy ducks her head in shame hidden under her long hair. Jungkook begins to feel remorse when he smells his sadness with his experienced sense of smell. So weak and fragile. He does not know how to react, it is the first time that he is in front of a woman and the dumbness reigns, the words have simply been stuck at the beginning of his throat.

Lucy raises her head.

"Do not."

Its softness shakes you.

"It's a stray dog that I take care of behind my mother ... Please don't tell him!"

"Is very..."

"Pathetic, I know."

"No." he clarifies. Lucy expands her eyes to him. "It is an honorable gesture."

Lucy's cheeks are bathed in rich lipstick when their gazes collide for a brief moment.

"Thank you very much sir."

Jungkook wrinkles his nose.

"What's that, sir? But how old are you?"

"I'm twenty-one, sir."

"For God's sake, don't call me sir reminds me of my father." Far from looking like an order, his pleasant laugh relaxes the situation.

Lucy gets caught up in the alluring sound of his voice, taking a few seconds to contemplate the hectic movement of her lips as she laughs. Jungkook intensifies his smile when he realizes it. She deflects hers drowning in a shame marked by the red of her ears.

"Call me by name, Jungkook."

"I'm so excited about decorating the banquet. I love roses, do you like roses as much as I do? I like the red of their petals it's so intense ... Oh, oh, over there!" Screaming excited when visualize from afar a wildflower stand. Catch Jungkook's doll to drag him towards the small traveling shop. There was so much fuss in the main square that you didn't notice the reverberating sound the song made of your tired sigh produced. He keeps thinking about how uncomfortable he is, he should help his father with the affairs of the town and not there, in a square choosing what would be the perfect flower for the center of his wedding table.

Two weeks had passed since that dinner, nothing had changed in his cold demeanor. Try as she might, she knew Carina was not his type. His heart did not stir when he touched it, nor did its aroma captivate him, it seemed the same as the rest of the omegas or betas in the surroundings.

"Jungkook."

Jungkook was aware of his claim hidden in a small grimace.

"Which ones do you like best?"

Carina reached out toward the flower trays.

"Do I really have to be here?" He asked, frowning roughly. Carina clenched her teeth, highlighting her jaw. Jungkook rolled his eyes at the sight of his little tantrum. Being a little nicer, I try to fix it in a quiet whisper. "I mean, I trust your taste."

Carina felt flattered, relaxing into a huge smile.

"I have to help my father. See you later."

He got out of there before Carina wanted to give him a suffocating hug. He adored them, he really missed the comforting warmth he felt when someone close hugged him, but he couldn't bear the excessive way his hands tightened around her neck.

A most peculiar brown mane drew his attention to the well-known girl who was reading in a street vendor.

He approached by an unconscious impulse that he offered to his lips with an excited smile.

“What are you doing?” He leaned down to whisper directly into the shell of her ear in greeting.

Lucy closed the book in fright. Suffering a chill from the wet friction of his lips on the skin.

When he bent his neck, he smiled.

"Are you following me, Jungkook?"

"Maybe," he joked, as he widened a mischievous smile. Lucy had to go back to the book so that she wouldn't witness the emotion of hers. Jungkook leaned over the stall ledges to steal his attention. "I came with Carina to buy some things for the wedding."

A prick-like pain seemed to hit his heart.

"It must have been exciting for you to have practically run out of the flower shop."

“Were you watching me?” She asked mockingly, exaggerating a playful smile.

"Maybe."

Jungkook was the faithful image of happiness. He couldn't stop smiling, unlike when he was with his sister, with Lucy he could bring out his personality, knowing that he would never judge him.

"Violent pleasures end in violence and have their own death triumph, in the same way that fire and gunpowder are consumed in a voracious kiss." I recite almost from memory when I look down at his book. Lucy turned her neck to him with too much surprise in her eyes. Jungkook replied with a proud grin. "Romeo and Juliet." I didn't think you were a lover of literature.

"It's the best way to get out of here getting lost in the exciting lyrics of Shakespeare," he replied, forming a small smile.

"Of all the works you have, why that one?" It is a tragedy with a very sad ending.

"An inspiring tragedy," he contradicted, frowning as he playfully punched him with the book in the stomach. "Besides representing a beautiful love story."

"Do you think such love exists?"

Jungkook raised a curious eyebrow.

"Yes, but not for me," I whisper, a cold and bleak air crowding into his tone like it's a disease. Jungkook slowly broke his beaming smile until he ended in a straight line. "My destiny is written and as traditions agree, I will end up marrying a stranger."

Lucy leaves the book inside a wooden box, the movement of her hand is so pessimistic that Jungkook lets out a sigh.

Frowning, she retrieves it. He put two fingers up to catch the grocer's attention, he came as fast as his old legs allowed. Jungkook took out a bill and placed it on top of the books.

"Keep the change."

Lucy opened her eyes in surprise.

"What are you doing?"

Jungkook offered her the book but she did not accept it. She was still holding a tense, reluctant posture toward him.

"Can't I give you a gift?"

"It is not appropriate. You are a committed man."

"With your sister."

Lucy's heart clenched.

"Still, it's not appropriate."

"Keep him."

As if he were a puppet at his whim, he managed to get the book into his arms.

"But..."

"Accept it as a sign of our friendship," he asked, Jungkook manifested his last masterpiece when he gave her a smile so charming that even Lucy was duped. "Friends make gifts, right?"

"Yes, I guess so."

He hated the pressure of the elegant shirts, he had always liked the comfort that loose and wide clothing provided much more. His mother had forced him to dress cordably on the occasion, when she had seen him in those jeans and black sweatshirt, he cursed the four winds.

As he walked down the streets of the town, the lanterns guided him with a charming light. The air that night was cool and comforting, and yet he would be locked in a house dining with his future wife. Jungkook sighed tired, really, he had been visiting that house too many times a week, he saw Carina almost every day. The only amusement that made this bustle more enjoyable was the pleasant company of Lucy. That little beta that made him smile every time they spoke. An impatient sigh came from his lips without realizing it.

Would it also be today?

"Ahead."

Mrs. Trivi opened the door for him with a smile.

Jungkook was looking resignedly at the table set in the living room when a delicious smell led him to the kitchen.

"Mmm ... that smells good."

He smiled like a little boy when he saw a chocolate cake in the middle of the table.

"Get your filthy hands away from my chocolate cake!" Cried an uncompromising voice that he had instantly recognized.

"Just a bit." Fawning smiled as he stretched out one of his hands but Lucy slapped him.

"Not!"

Immediately they both laughed as Lucy tenderly took her hand to analyze the red mark. There was a time when the laughter stopped and his eyes couldn't be more attracted. They fell into comfortable silence as they analyzed his detailed pupils. Jungkook cocked a small smile as his heart began to crash against his chest. Lucy looked away in intimidation, her dark eyes too deep. I swear for a moment to hear the heart fluttering in Lucy's chest, her scent so close it was starting to cause terrible side effects. He felt a shiver as his fingers left her wrist in need of the desire for her soft touch. Lucy swallowed to calm the dryness in her throat, her lips taking control of her mouth to smile unconsciously. He knew he kept staring at her and he inexplicably liked that.

Jungkook found himself half a step away when the door slammed shut.

"Jungkook wasn't expecting you so soon. I've missed you ..."

Lucy was brutally pushed aside when Carina hugged Jungkook.

"Are you going to stay for dinner?" A totally ironic question to his sister.

Lucy smiles falsely.

"If you talk to me like that, yes."

"Stupid ..."

"Actually, I'm only here to pick up some of your father's papers." Jungkook's clever intervention gives him the perfect excuse to refrain from that absurd evening. Carina ironically raises her eyebrows while transforming a forced smile.

"Oh! In that case come, I'll take you to his office."

Lucy mocks her sister's back, imitating her gait, and Jungkook laughs softly when he turns to say goodbye.

The sun was shining bright that morning but the desire to get lost in the pages of a book had really won the battle. Her father's office was an intimate and private place where he used to spend most of the day. Besides, she preferred to shut herself up in that rustic and solitary room, than to have to endure the excited screams of her sister for the few days that remained for her wedding.

He was turning the pages of the book too lazily. He didn't know what was going on inside her but for a while he had been in rather poor humor. He no longer wanted to smile, he rarely laughed at his father's jokes when there had been from the first syllable before. He made cheap excuses, whether it was because the summer was ending or because his parents no longer paid as much attention to him. Deep down, he knew what the real reason for his emotional downturn was. Jungkook was going to marry his sister's monster.

The problem was not commitment (or at least that's what he wanted to think) Jungkook was a very attractive young man, it was more than clear that he would not stay single all his life, but the fact that he went with his sister definitely put him in a very bad mood . She was capricious and did not agree with her friend's kind attitude. So sweet and chivalrous, he couldn't deny how good he felt when sporadic moments passed. Her chest heaved uneasily and her lips couldn't stop smiling.

He shook his head to scare away the strange thoughts and concentrated his attention on finishing Cervantes' great work. When finishing with the last page, he got up from the chair and walked to the shelf, with the bad luck that when he wanted to return it to its place of origin, the height played a trick on him.

“Do you need help?” A velvety voice vibrated behind her. Jungkook leaned his shoulder against the mark of the door as he contemplated the amusing scene of seeing her on tiptoe and with her tongue sticking out.

"What?"

Lucy landed on the ground momentarily stunned by his appearance. Swallow, overwhelmed by its natural beauty. He had never felt the need to focus on the bodies of the other betas, and yet his eyes wandered alone on an involuntary tour of her majestic legs in tandem with his strong arms clenched as they crossed. Coming out of her hypnosis, she blinked nervously as she turned back to the bookshelf and managed to cover her blush. What happened to him? It looked like a beta controlled by her impulses.

"Oh! No, I can alone," rejecting her help with a self-sufficient air. He stood on tiptoe again, stretching his arm as far as he could to strain the book into the empty space. She lowered to the ground tired and snorted closing her eyes. "Okay. Can you ..."

A hand runs over her shoulder, catching the book and setting it in place. His hard pecs collide unintentionally against his back as his body leans forward to reach the high shelf. Feel an intense stomach cramp when you shrink at the compact sensation. She seems so moved by the pleasant sensation of his body heat that her neck turns to increase the vision of her strong arm backing up.

"Thanks ..." he whispers.

"I had brought you a book."

Jungkook's voice sounds more stable than it actually was, his mind had played a bad thought on him. He didn't want to get away from her. She had felt such a pleasant sensation when she had accidentally brushed against his body. Forcing himself to stay away from its delicious smell he takes two steps back to walk away.

"You didn't have to with the book the other day ...”

Lucy turns around when she is sure that the redness on her cheeks has completely left her skin but then, Jungkook takes out a book from his cloth bag.

"Oh, my mother, my mother!" I do not believe you. I've been looking for this book every time Mel put the job but always told me she didn't have it.

He snatches the book from her with too exciting speed when he recognizes the book.

“Since when do you like witchcraft, Jungkook?” He hums mockingly as he glides his fingers across the uneven surface of the cover, in a hypnotized smile.

"If you don't want it ..."

“Yes, yes!” She hugs the book, afraid she will take it away.

Jungkook laughs softly.

Lucy takes the book off to look at it, jumps with excitement as she squeals like a little girl. She doesn't know when she has dared to run to his body to hug him, but when she is aware of what she has done and tries to separate herself, Jungkook is wrapping an arm around her waist to pull her closer. Suddenly, Lucy hides a smile sinking into her chest. Its honey scent is so comfortable, it inspires enjoying its natural perfume, it takes a step closer to make a better hole in its arms. Jungkook gasps, tilts his head to bury his nose in her neck and bask in her softness, his fingers lightly touching the skin behind her ear. Her small caress makes Lucy stir at the sensation. With an innate craving he clenches his wool sweater in a fist, Jungkook gently caresses the strip of fur again. Smile when you feel the trembling of your body stuck.

"Shall I interrupt?"

Lucy separates agitated when she hears her sister's irritated voice.

"Thank you, really, thank you."

His stuttering is covered by the sound of his hurried footsteps. He runs away from there with his face burning, hoping that Jungkook hasn't seen the shame on his face, but both he and Carina have witnessed his little blush. Jungkook smiles unconsciously, caring little that his behavior was being observed by the other woman.

"Carina, you are beautiful."

Flaunting her majestic dress she waves her hand proudly. His other hand is in a friendly greeting with Jungkook's mother.

"Thank you very much, Mrs. Jeon."

"Nothing formal, after all, we will be family soon." Her confidence makes Carina smile with greatness. Completely ignoring his parents and his bored sister. — I can't believe my son is getting married in a week.

Lucy purses her lips, tries to act normally but cannot.

Carina widens her smile when she notices her sidelong disgust.

"Neither do I ... I'm so nervous."

Jungkook's mother turns to a circle of men who speak animatedly.

"Jungkook, son, your fiancee just arrived!"

Jungkook slammed his glass down, placed it on top of the waiter's tray, then loosened the knot in his tie. Really, he had infiltrated the older wolves to hide, had had to put up with old stories of when the pack was a third of what it was now, but it was worth it to get away even for a few minutes.

An old man she had been talking to slaps him on the shoulder for support. He sighs and turns to his mother. He tries to process a charming smile on his girlfriend but is only capable of grimacing.

"These..."

He shuts up.

He sees Lucy a few meters behind, clad in a short but really delicate dress. Jungkook couldn't contain the bubbles of emotion growing inside her, she really was beautiful. The white color suited him wonderfully highlighting his pretty eyes that did not hesitate to observe him.

"Precious..."

"Thanks," Carina responds, taking a quick look at her mother.

"What a boring party." Is this what they call music? ”Her friend scoffed as she played with the liquid in her glass. Lucy shrugged, then finished her third drink. When he threatens to leave her on the small table behind him, Ginger grabs her shoulders to stop her. "Don't turn around."

"What happens?"

Lucy frowns in concern.

"Would you believe me if I told you that your sister's fiancé did not take his eyes off you?"

"Of course not." He chokes on the alcohol when he swallows. You cough when you notice how the drink is going the wrong way. — You should stop drinking because alcohol makes you see things that are not.

"Yeah right."

Red-brushed nails are embedded around his arm.

“May I have a second, I want to talk to my sister?” She demands, lashing out in an unkind tug until she pulls her out of prying eyes.

"Ouch! What are you doing?" Lucy moans in a confused howl from the strangely aggressive pressure that travels through her fingers.

"You've been taunting Jungkook all night."

"You're sick in the head," she clarifies, denying herself absorbed in an incredulous expression, sucking her lips inward to contain herself. She decides to ignore him and walk back to the living room, however, her sister's hand returns her to her place.

"I warn you, stop bothering my fiancé."

"Your ego has gone to your head and your understanding is clouded." Jungkook is my friend, nothing more.

"You're right," he spits bitterly. She smiles, she wears an evil grimace that only anticipates what will come next. —Really, I don't know why I bother if it's clear that she would never notice someone like you.

"Like me?"

"Yes." He tightens his smile, emphasizing a wicked look. "In an immature and horrendous brat who doesn't have two fingers on her forehead, you're not even pretty."

Sigh, release his breath directly to her face to unbalance her. Lucy frowns in pain at her sister's hurtful words. He had always been cruel, he had never lacked time to mess with his appearance, but this time it was different, he sensed it in the way he acted. He had pulled out his claws to defend his position as if he felt Lucy was a threat when he had just told her otherwise.

"You're worth nothing."

He moved closer to her ear so that his whisper would take on a dramatic tone. She emphasized the last word to make it stand out from the rest. Lucy swallowed nervously, a swirl of anguish crouching inside her stomach from the lack of delicacy. She knew that she shouldn't listen to her, she was just a hurt woman for some reason that she couldn't explain. But it was the derogatory tone and the way his eyes killed her in anger. She didn't know that it hurt more, if her sister's slurs or the fact that deep down she knew she was right. I never considered myself a good specimen, haughty and pushy. No beta approached her if it weren't for sweet reasons. She always walked alone waiting for someone to surprise her, but that never happened, it only existed in her head.

Until now.

"Lucy." An oddly low voice sounded behind him. Startling her by sudden interruption of her thoughts. She turns around and twitches a weary sigh.

"Tony, I'm not in the mood. Go, please."

"We need to talk."

Lucy inevitably stared out the window, seeing her sister hanging on Jungkook's arm. She was smiling as she bragged about something she couldn't hear from a distance. As if struck by a current, Jungkook squinted into the darkness of the porch, but there was no one there anymore. Her desire to get out of there was greatly increased by accepting that Tony will guide her down the dark steps at the back of the house.

“Haven't we gotten too far away?” He asks, not stopping to observe everything that had a little moonlight reflected on its surface. It had been a while since they had started on this walk, Tony had been silent and certainly, Lucy was beginning to wonder if accepting his offer had really been a good idea.

"It's so they won't listen to us."

"I think that's enough, I don't even know where we are."

She stopped abruptly causing Tony to turn and look at her strangely.

"Lucy, forgive me."

—Tony, we've already talked about this, you aspire to things that I don't. We don't have the same goals, the same dreams. We were always different, now I realize how wrong I was to accept that this happened.

"But what are you saying?" You love Me.

"No, Tony. I liked you but I never loved you. "I confess, the words had been previously selected in his head so as not to reject him too abruptly, but the fatigue was cleverly perceived between his tired grimace and lowered shoulders." Sorry, "I sigh. Taking steps carefully so as not to trip over the dark stones.

His hand tied to her arm holding her back.

"We need to talk," I pronounce slowly with a bright threat in his eyes.

"We've said enough," he said, shivering from the nerves that covered his vision. He shook his arm but he just cocked his fingers more. "Tony, let go of me I have to go back."

"You love me," he repeated in a desperate air. Lucy widened her eyes in fright as she took painfully slow steps toward him. "I'm going to show you how much I love you."

He yanked her onto the nearest log just to adjust to her body as soon as he had the chance. Her nose inspired his perfumed scent eagerly as she trembled paralyzed. His nails embedded in the rough wood with a disturbed look. He began to deliver small kisses to the bottom of her jaw, sticking out his sticky tongue to lick a strip of her syrupy neck. Lucy shrugged her head in response, feeling the real fear when his hands clenched her and she felt his hard erection on her thigh.

"My precious beta ..." her breath falling into the shell of her ear before she licked it with emphasis. Lucy patted her chest desperately, attacking with her hands in an absurd attempt to pull him away.

“Stop!” I yell, sick and scared. Holding back an anguished sob at the top of her throat. All she did was get Tony to growl and hold her tighter in his lumberjack arms.

"Don't scream, no one is going to listen to you, we're in the middle of nowhere. Don't make this more difficult, Lucy."

He hit his body again this time making it at least a few inches apart. He sank his body into the crisp wood of the tree groaning in pain as he felt loose strands dig into his back.

"Let me go, I promise I won't tell anyone," I plead, opening my teary eyes so that he will change his mind, that being his breaking point.

"Damn it, I just want to convey to you how much I love you so hard it is to understand!" If you don't want to understand it the good way then the bad way it will be… ”A hand went up to wrap the column of his neck and thus keep his face free for him. He smiled, pulling his teeth out in a sharp smile. Lucy kicked when she buried her mouth in his neck, she knew what she would do when she felt the fangs in her neck.

"No ..." she sobbed.

A furious roar echoed through every space in the forest. So furious and scandalous that Tony caught a glance before falling to the ground pushed by strong arms. Lucy slid down the tree, killing her bent legs. Her hand covered her neck still feeling the edge of her fangs.

Another furious roar.

Lucy tore her gaze from the dried leaves to find a scene too terrifying. Jungkook hitting with all his fury the face buried in the earth of Tony. Flipping him violently with each punch. Fixing a bloodshot gaze, pulling out the fangs at each lunge. He tried to get up but his knee failed, he had to lean on the trunk not to collapse.

"Jungkook," I whisper weak. Not abandoning that fear that I still felt. Jungkook looked up from Tony's badly injured body to look at her with concern. His eyes darting to the hand covering his neck. He got up as fast as he could and approached her too nervously.

"Are you okay? Has that motherfucker done anything to you?" He growled, the vein in his neck sticking out at every word. His breathing hitched at his chest but he didn't seem to mind. With too much tenderness he uncovered his neck to see two red marks but without going deep. He sighed, feeling relieved and selfishly good. Lucy welled up tears at his pitiful gaze. She buried her head in his chest to calm her sobs. Jungkook stroked her head slowly. "Don't worry, I'm not leaving you alone."

"Where could it be?" Has he come home? ”Her father asked in an anguished tone as he wandered around the empty room.

"Lucy would never leave without telling us." Her worried mother assured her to try to calm her husband's uncomfortable hustle a little.

Carina rolls her eyes.

"Please, you're putting on too much of a drama, he's always sneaked out of ..."

Jungkook's mother's outrageous heels stormed in.

Behind her husband walks with a long face.

“Have you seen Jungkook?” Her mother added in a panic attack. It was not common for her son to leave the party in the middle of a conversation. She had been worried since she saw him leave in a hurry.

The glass opening was what twitched the nerves of everyone present. Immediately everyone turned in alarm to find a Jungkook with his shirt stained with mud. His mother covered her amazed mouth when the poor and trembling Lucy appeared behind him with her tousled dress and red neck. But undoubtedly, what caught the most attention was the boy that Jungkook so skillfully dragged by his mother's velvet carpet.

"Lucy! OMG, what happened?"

Her mother ran to wrap her daughter in her arms, who soon began to cry when she felt the heat of the home again.

"This jerk has tried to take her into the woods," Jungkook roared into the air. Wrinkling her nose when the memory of him trying to mark her came magically to knock her good pose down. He released his shirt causing it to drop straight to the floor, the drool hanging and his mouth bloody as he lay dying on the fluffy carpet.

"He?"

Her mother grabbed her shoulders to inspect the mark on her neck.

"No." I assure, licking my lips so I can speak. "Jungkook was on time, Mom."

The woman sighed in relief.

"Thank heaven."

"That happens to you for being anybody," her sister accused in a too despicable tone. Her father turned shocked to his daughter.

"Carina, please, that comment is too much!"

"Tomorrow everyone will know what happened tonight." He pointed coldly at his sister as if it wouldn't affect him. His mother immediately looked at Jungkook's mother, who looked down at the dying individual in her living room.

"I'll try not to talk about it much, but you know what the rumors are like."

"No one will want to marry her," Carina commented in a low whisper that did nothing more than hide her inner joy.

"I will do it."

Everyone watched Jungkook's jaw drop. Everyone except Lucy who had frozen in her mother's arms, sticking her head out to look at him too shocked.

"It is a solution," he commented to his father in an attempt to convince him. Mr. Jeon seemed to think about it as he placed a finger on his chin and turned to seek his wife's approval.

"But are you listening to each other?" What kind of mental dementia makes you think it's a good idea? Do not!

“Carina!” Her mother said in a dominant cry. The girl opened her mouth as she exhaled fire from anger. Heading towards Jungkook so that he could convey his agony.

"It's her problem she has gotten into." I understand that you want to help her but there are many ways.

"It is my decision, father."

Sitting with her hands on her knees as she watched her mother's reflection travel across the room.Combed with a tousled braid that ran down the right side of her shoulder. Looking back into that mirror, she thought that perhaps this would be the last time she could feel the warm relaxation of her space. She tried not to cry so as not to ruin the makeup so exquisite that her mother had taken the time to do it.

He couldn't find the exact words to describe how he felt. Nerves had indeed taken the form of lingering chills. He always assured his crazy and dreamy person that the day they would take his hand would be the happiest of his life, and yet he kept thinking that this situation had been forced.

"Here it is, it was from your great-grandmother, then it happened to your grandmother and then to me. Now it's your turn to take it."

"Why are you crying, Mom?" I whisper in a small smile when she saw slight drops caress her cheeks.

"It's not every day my girl gets married," I croon melancholy as I hooked a loose lock with the blue clasp. I sigh, stroking her daughter's bare shoulders. "We should have had this talk later but the situation has been a bit rushed."

“About what?” She scowled her outlined eyebrows.

"About the rules in marriage, my love."

"Mom..."

"You know what will happen tonight, Jungkook will take you and be his wife. You must have puppies, all you can and ..."

"Mom, I don't want to talk about this. Can you please go away?"

"I know it's difficult, at first it takes a little getting used to but I'm sure my girl will do very well. Jungkook is a great man who has done us a great favor, keep that in mind."

I kiss her forehead lovingly before leaving her thoughtful in the mirror.

Everything happened so fast, in less than a blink he found himself closing his eyes to the roar of applause from the guests. Stop in the middle of an altar full of precious flowers. Being the center of attention and the reason for the excited whistles.

"You may kiss the bride."

Lucy gulped when the priest's words broke through all the screaming. His eyes ceased to outline the flowers in a nervous air. The seat next to him shifted back, implying that Jungkook had risen. Lucy took the fabric of her skirt and tightened it anxiously before getting up. Raising her chin little by little in a situation that seemed more eternal than the cycle of the earth. Connecting their eyes for the first time since they had made the pact in that stone seat. Jungkook sighed when he noticed how his bright pupils faded as the agony continued to rage. Guilt gnaws at him like a disease that destroys everything in his path.

He moved just a little closer to receive her rejection in a fearful gasp. So, banishing the desire he had to caress that fleshy mouth with his lips, he decided to bring a kiss to his forehead and walk away as soon as possible. Lucy, who had closed her eyes not to witness out of embarrassment, opened them in surprise to find a Jungkook further away than she ever walked to the garden with the guests.

He had hardly had a bite of the wonderful cake that Mrs. Jeon had prepared. The food had danced with her fork the short time dinner had lasted. The dance was more awkward than I imagined. Everyone exhaling tender sighs while the couple glowed in the middle of the garden. Envious women who wanted to take their place, themselves as men who longed to feel what Jungkook's hands touched as she delicately adjusted herself on the bare area of his back. They were both tense.

I kept thinking about what would come next, there was less left for the evening to end and the guests to leave. With the end of each song his greatest fear was approaching, he should spend the night with Jungkook.

A couple of Jungkook's cousins dragged her away to talk about marriage issues. However, Lucy was absent and lost in a sea suffocated by a storm of nerves. Himself, when they gave more than two in the morning, one of the cousins took her with complicit laughter to her room. He left her alone saying goodbye with a wink that he did not see as he fell into bed.

Very soon, the door opened in a scandalous screech, standing firm with her back stretched up as she turned to see her husband. He was shocked when he saw how shabby he looked, his tie untied and his vest buttons undone with a shirt half out.

"I'll sleep in the room at the end of the hall to let you rest." A hoarse voice accompanied by an unstable babble. Lucy raised her eyebrows when she could smell alcohol filling the room. Looking more closely at his appearance, he noticed how the red cheeks and lost eyes gave rise to the thought that the stains on his pants had not been water. He looked really tired as he leaned his back against the door to stand upright.

"But this is your room," she whispered persuasively. Jungkook waved his hand away as he crawled over to his dresser to grab his nightwear.

"Never mind."

Puzzled by his sudden stability, she was left with the word in her mouth when Jungkook closed the door two seconds later.

Two weeks later.

Like every waking up in the last days, there was a part of her that wanted to continue sleeping, to sink her head into that fluffy pillow and forget about her problems. But ignoring them wasn't the best option, still, he spent as much time as he could in the isolated room that had been on his property for a couple of days.

After the wedding night a cold air had crept in between them, Jungkook hardly spoke a word that was not strictly necessary, whether it was a good morning or a goodbye. When she left the room, he seemed to notice her presence and go to the garden with some excuse without any reliable argument. He would be lying if he said that this contempt did not hurt him in the deepest, ignoring her had become his favorite activity.

So, she was pleasantly surprised when she went down to breakfast to see two cups on the table.

"Good morning." He nodded as he walked past him so he could sit down.

"Good morning." Unlike her shyness, Jungkook seemed much more awake and with an overwhelming air that made that distressed sensation ease somewhat.

Lucy picked up her fork and began to eat silently with overly careful bites as she noticed a gaze piercing her from the other end.

"When you finish breakfast I want to teach you one thing."

True to his word, after devouring what was left of his plate, Jungkook rose from the table and she followed behind. He felt a swirl of emotions that he could not stop.

What she wasn't expecting was for him to lead her to a huge library that she hardly knew existed.

"It is huge," I admit in a scream that he confessed the wonderful surprise that had been. The books placed perfectly on the bookshelves almost perfectly, you could tell that it was an important place for Jungkook since the brightness of his eyes gleamed menacingly.

"It is entirely yours." Feel free to pick up any book you want, although we can always go to town to buy more.

"With the ones here, I think that's enough." My God! ”I shout excitedly when I visualize a golden cover more than familiar among so much wood. She raised an eyebrow, opening her mouth surprised to find that type of book, there. “Do you have the story of Little Red Riding Hood and the wolf?” She furrowed her eyebrows in a grimace accompanied by a small smile. It was so striking that he had a children's tale among great classics that he could hardly see that Jungkook's cheeks had camouflaged a soft red.

"It was my favorite when I was little, I didn't fall asleep unless my mother read it to me at least twice." He confessed, exhaling those childhood memories. He smiled, imagining the situation of a little Jungkook between blankets as he begged his mother to start his reading. Although it died down in the same way that a feeling of remorse arose, he no longer spent time with his parents, least of all with his mother.

"You should have given him war ..."

Her velvety voice led him back to reality. Her smile just appeared when I watched from afar as Lucy's small feet leaned to reach the book. A feeling of tenderness similar to that of the other time caused him to walk to offer his help.

"Wait, I will ..."

But Lucy had already managed to catch him and they collided almost unintentionally when she got down and he lunged forward. Her back pressed to his chest harder than last time, feeling the hot breath falling into her ear, making her goose bumps. He swallowed and turned around, leaning on the shelf. Her fingers gripped the book with maddening anxiety as she realized how close they were so painful between them. Jungkook had a hand on the shelf next to her head for support, aware or not, that he was cornering her. Jungkook raised his hand in a delicate caress to her chin to get a better view of her clear eyes. The arm she had supported was closing the distance at too slow a speed, torturing her with the prospect of her dilated irises. His dark gaze kept her in place, almost instinctively or because she was amazed by that intense gaze. Her lips parted as he brought his thumb up to stroke her chin in small circles. Lucy closed her eyes to heighten the sense of pleasure, barely aware that Jungkook was approaching tortuously slow steps toward a single destination. She lifted her head a little to give him better access when she felt the brush of his nose on hers followed by a small contact with the soft skin of her approaching lips.

"Mister Jungkook your guest has just arrived." The voice of one of the house servants caused Jungkook to walk away immediately and Lucy to hide her face placing the book on her warm face.

“What guest?” I snort, trying to sound as kind as possible being aware that I had interrupted. The elderly man left the library without answering. Jungkook rubs his palm over his face to calm down and not kill whoever has come to his house without warning. Something told him that his parents' absence had something to do with the surprise guest. I glance at Lucy apologetically which the girl received with an embarrassed nod.

Through the hallway upstairs, he could already smell a peculiar perfume. The citrus smell was unmistakable, I just hope it was a mistake and that it really wasn't who I felt.

Unfortunately, going down the stairs to his huge mansion, he realized that his sense of smell had not fooled him.

"Cousin Kook but how long without seeing you!" Have you put on weight? ”Burlon, with the biggest and most false smile he could show as he followed his steps up the stairs. Jungkook snorted more than annoyed as he glared at his father, who kept a serious expression next to his wife.

“What is he doing here?” He didn't hide his anger in an ironic tone like his cousin did.

"He came on behalf of the neighboring town." I have invited you for a few days to file the sloths, please be kind.

His father's pleas caused him to sigh.

"Yes, Kook treat me like a princess." His maniacal laugh made his hair stand on end. He clenched his fists trying to control his wolf from taking over. However, another sweet smell made her look up quickly toward the stairs. "But what have we got here?" I had heard that you were married but the rumor had not reached me that your wife was such a beautiful specimen.

Lucy was halfway there when she felt the other alpha's piercing gaze from below. Her stomach clenched when she felt his eyes travel as far as he could without cutting himself. I look at Jungkook terribly self-conscious but he barely looked at him and he was already grunting at his cousin.

"Taehyung called me, did you ..." I walk in a flattering air to where she was when she finished going down the stairs to gently hold her hand and plant a kiss on the back, leaving her with a shiver. His dark eyes were similar to Jungkook's but much more mischievous. With nothing more than to compare both smiles that although they were too far away, Jungkook's toothy smile was as pleasant as the square of that flirtatious wolf.

"Lucy, please go." More than a plea, it sounded more like an overly demanding order. The vein in his neck already looked too visible, implying that his patience was running out.

"What? No, why so soon?"

Lucy looked at Jungkook for answers but only got a neutral and overly intense gaze.

"Listen to me."

"You are a curmudgeon, Cousin Kook."

"What a heady smell, shit, I had never smelled such a smell." How lucky you are to fuck, I almost become like a small wild omega when its perfume has gone up my nostrils.

"Signature." Gag. Slipping the folder with the papers into a noisy slip.

But Taehyung smiled mischievously.

"It must have been a pleasure being paired with someone so cute," he commented. I borrow a pen from the desk to capture his signature. They were just papers that agreed to the new territory deal. Delimiting their land so that there are no misunderstandings when hunting. Jungkook was deeply upset with his father's actions, he could have brought his uncle, at least he would not have to endure such high alpha airs. She didn't want him here, much less knowing that Lucy was close. He was jealous, damned jealous. Because although he trusted her, not so much in him.

"It is not your fault." Now get out of my sight.

"Oh come, we are family, there are no secrets between blood brothers. What was it like to take it? Delicious sure. What legs and what small breasts so well placed, how does your ..."

"If you talk about my female again with those words." No. ”He patted the table as he got up, a shout rumbling dominated by his primitive impulses. He had to calm down or he would end up transforming and slitting his neck. She closed her eyes, hiding her fiery red irises as she ran her tongue over her raging lip. "If you ever talk about my female again, no matter what it is, I'm going to rip your throat out with my fangs."

"Well, it hit you hard."

"Stay away from her, Taehyung." Don't force me to follow through on my threat.

"Relax, you're a little tense," the brown-haired boy lied, rising to rest his hands on his cousin's shoulders. Jungkook identified the fact as a mockery, finally roaring at Taehyung so that he would take his hands off her. Fangs coming out to impose dominance, Taehyung ended up walking away as he raised his hands to the air, hiding with an awkward smile how much his howl had stunned him.

"You better not notice your scent near her."

"Too bad my beloved uncles can't join us for this delicious dinner," Taehyung mentioned as he devoured a piece of meat with a pleasant smile. Jungkook rolled his eyes, then looked at Lucy to verify her condition. She looked awkward, too self-conscious about dining with someone she didn't know.

"Yes, eat and be quiet."

"Were you always so irascible or is it because I'm close to your female?"

Lucy, who until then had been quietly eating, raised her head to Taehyung quite surprised. Flashing nervously as she clarified in her head if what she had just said was true, or just the result of her joking nature. Jungkook had to hold back a groan to stay seated and not jump at his cousin's neck.

"Shut up and eat," he growled menacingly. Casting out your voice I recorded with as much impatience as shame. Lucy was listening to everything, and if she could perceive, just a little bit, discomfort in her. Taehyung would end up in the backyard with his head buried in the ground.

"Why are you reacting like this?" A moment ago you were yelling at me that if I approached her you would nail my fangs.

"With permission," she apologized in a too embarrassed whisper. Jungkook frowned too sadly when he saw her almost run to disappear. He squeezed the fork showing his white knuckles with a thirst for blood, specifically, that of his cousin. Giving Taehyung a voracious glance, he ran after her to try to explain.

It was a relief to him to see her climb the stairs.

"Sorry, it is martyrdom to dine with someone like him." I shouldn't have asked you to come down to dinner with us. ”He spoke too regretfully. Lucy suspended her leg and turned, holding on to the railing. She contracted when she saw true overwhelm in Jungkook's dark pupils, at least he had come looking for her.

"Yeah, it's kind of weird," I whisper. I go down the steps to shorten the distance, staying a couple higher to place his eyes on a level with his. Taehyung's inappropriate comments had made her more uncomfortable than she would like to admit, but that had not been the main reason she had decided to run away. "What she said ..." soft babble. Jungkook raised an eyebrow, his Adam's apple moving as he swallowed too hard. There was illusion in its brilliance, so much so that Jungkook was almost blind. She could feel the intensity with which her heart beat, nervous about an answer. "Is it true?"

"It is not so, I just warned him that he will not approach you. He did not mean it, well, unless he makes it clear." He ended up confessing. Lucy pursed her lips, she had avoided his question.

"Would you only do that to him if he got close to me? Why?"

He didn't know what, but his chest heaved with excitement, if he could ever know that Jungkook saw her as a female and not as the girl he had been forced to marry to keep his bond.

"You should have listened to the endless barbaric things he said about you as if he were an omega in heat." I don't want him to be near you, that's all.

"Your female said."

Jungkook straightened his back taut, his shoulders haughty from the rise of his chest in alarm. He felt anxiety in her, a need that was mortifying him. She didn't want to hurt him, because if she did, he would.

"Yeah, well, don't take it into account. Taehyung says a lot of nonsense. It's the only thing he's good at."

"I don't know why, but I have a feeling you're hiding something from me, Jungkook."

"I'm not hiding anything from you."

"Then why do you run away to the room farthest from the hallway every night?" Gripping the railing too tightly. She was agitated, annoyed by her cowardice.

"That's my business," he growled before walking out the other door.

Lucy tried to go down the steps to follow him but suddenly, her belly contracted curving her towards the railing. She moaned a little dizzy, thinking innocently that it was from eating so fast at dinner.

Drowned in her own sweat, anguished by the heat so suffocating that itchy between her legs. He opened his mouth and roared impatiently. Had a month already passed? As he could, he got out of bed almost dragging himself across the floor to get urgently to the bathroom kit. She opened the closet with so much anxiety that the products were scattered on the floor, the occasional shampoo spilling its contents. He didn't care too much, now he had more important things to take care of.

"It can't be," I sob. Her belly contracted so powerfully again that she ended up on her knees. She did not recall having been so suffocatingly hot. She felt the moisture between her thighs when I rub them out of necessity. Now he understood that rush to unite male and female when they were just beginning to be considered adults. Females were usually warm once a month when the full moon shone high in the dark sky. Also, he had known, from the many books he had read on the female body, that, as you turned years, the need for you to be taken was getting stronger. Until now, I hadn't felt the need to get fucked so badly.

I was involved in a pretty serious problem. Its heat had never passed without the inhibitirios and if it hurt now, he couldn't imagine how it would roar when midnight will come.

As best he could, he managed to hold himself up to go back to bed. With beads of sweat and red cheeks trying not to faint on the way. A delicious smell began to cloud her senses, these being much more receptive when his heat possessed her, a smell of honey, delicious honey coming from the closet. I drag my feet toward the cabinet, licking his mouth at how dry it was. When he opened its doors, his eyebrows furrowed and his mouth fell open at the overpowering scent of the hanging garment. It was his jacket and his fucking scent.

Lucy slammed the door when she felt lucidity for a second. He had to go back to bed, even if he didn't want to, he had to. He couldn't continue torturing himself with her scent because that would make his situation worse.

But it didn't last long, her belly throbbed furiously again, taking away the little sanity she'd tried to establish. Her legs couldn't be any more wet from the exhorted amount of lubrication that was expelled from her vagina. His hole closing around nothing, urgently demanding to be filled by something, by an alpha's cock.

She opened the doors like a desperate woman. When the garment ripped, its scent not only penetrated her nose, it also contracted her belly even further. Lucy, lost in that exciting scent, ripped the jacket from the hanger, breaking it into a thousand pieces. He brought the garment up to his nose and breathed in its scent.

She growled completely overpowered, controlled by her scent, she ended up running down the hall in search of him.

I needed it to ease her.

He needed me to fuck her so badly.

He wanted his fucking cock between her thighs.

"Jungkook ..." I sob at the door. Anxiously scratching at the wood when I try to open it to find it closed. Jungkook woke up suddenly as a desperately sweet scent rose up his nose roses. I gasp, looking down at the sheets. His cock throbbed in need as I heard her moan behind the door.

He got up, sweating from his hands and his mouth suddenly dry. I put her ear to the door to hear her better.

"Get away," he growled. Lucy gasped needlessly, feeling distressed at his rejection. What he didn't know is that, Jungkook was controlling himself, he was using all his self-control not to knock down the door and fuck her in the hallway, open her beautiful legs and sink his cock deep inside her until he shouted her name.

"Please ... It hurts so much." His needy little howl was too devastating. Her irises took on the reddish color of her wolf when she squeezed her thighs and her wonderful lubrication rose up her nose. He licked his lips anxiously, too overwhelmed. He put his hand on the latch. I gasp at the anticipation.

But he shook his head away from the door.

"Go back to sleep, Lucy." He growled back. "I don't want to hurt you."

Jungkook slammed his fist against the door. Why did everything have to be so unfair? Why should he have known her like this? He cursed in fury when he heard him walk down the hall. He had perceived disappointment, sadness, much pain. Damn, he didn't reject her because he didn't want her, his damn erection screamed to sink into her tight pussy, but, the feeling of guilt was still installed in his chest.

He didn't want her to think he was taking advantage of her.

Too overwhelmed by shortness of breath, she ran to the nearest balcony. His hands hit the railing in anguish as he crashed into it. He stretched his neck back, his head back, the cool air calming his anxiety a little.

"My God, I've been following your scent all over the hall." A hoarse voice appeared from behind. Scaring her too much. Turning, he encountered Taehyung's mischievous pout. She clung to the wall as much as she could when she saw the air brazenly smelling. "Are you okay puppy?" I can help you with something?

"I don't think you can help me on this," I stammer in a hoarse tone. He didn't like the threatening look with which he was running her. He watched her with lust, his intense red eyes as he approached with slow steps.

"I think so," he assured. He smiled, gleaming his tongue in one step through his fangs. "But, I'm confused." Why aren't you fucking your husband? ”She scoffed, giggling wickedly at the need on her face. Delighting in the wet sweat that stuck her nightgown to her skin. Then, in an act that couldn't scare her anymore, Taehyung seemed to hit something on his head, stopping abruptly with a too dark, mischievous glow. “It hasn't taken you, yet.

"No, he, yes ...

"Don't lie to me or burn in hell, needy puppy," I whisper too attracted by my gasp. He strode over to me to stand in front of me, lightly imposing his body. I swallowed saliva burdened by the smell of pine that began to rise up my nose. Taehyung smelled great, but it wasn't the scent he wanted. I felt too small under his piercing predatory gaze. "Damn, how could I have rejected you and more when you have your heat?"

"He has not rejected me, I am the one who has decided to go through this." I tried to face him, thanking the cold weather for helping me to reduce the suffocation a little. But, I didn't count on him also being able to take advantage of the movement of the air to better inhale my scent and to know, through my heartbeat and my fear, that he was lying.

"But how capricious is destiny and what a beautiful coincidence. My parents are crazy because I do not commit myself, it is not my fault that the betas of my town are not pleasant to me. Like ... like you."

"You should listen to Jungkook and go back to bed."

I tried to get under his arm but he immediately got in the way.

"Oh! Wasn't it you who had decided not to relieve yourself?"

"I have to go," she sobs. This was getting out of hand, he could perfectly feel the need in his eyes, in the evil play of his tongue on his fangs.

"Don't go, going through the heat without a male is very hard." I can help you, let me ease you ...

"I'm already taken ..."

As I pulled my face away from his hand when I tried to stroke my cheek, I became hysterical. My heaving chest being stopped by his. I was very close, I wanted to go. Damn, I should have stayed in bed.

"Trickster pup, I can smell how needy you are from here." Just let me ...

"I warned you not to go near her." A deafening roar came from the balcony entrance. Taehyung stopped cornering me by turning abruptly. I shrugged my stomach full of fear. Jungkook roared furiously at his cousin, he was really afraid that in one of these he would jump against him and kill him. His gaze was so threatening, red irises, his chest heaving as he blew air out of his mouth.

"I have only offered my help." I was greatly surprised when I perceived fear in his tone, Taehyung seemed terribly terrified by the way he looked at his white knuckles.

"I'm going to slit your throat so deep that your pathetic alpha blood stained my mother's carpet," he roared. She screamed in fright when in overly striding strides, she approached Taehyung and lifted him up into the air before slamming his back against the wall. The chestnut groaned disoriented, coughing as Jungkook began to squeeze his neck.

"Jungkook ..." I sob scared to see him lose control like that. The muscles in his back tensed, then he dropped Taehyung's body to the ground, letting him cough from lack of oxygen.

"I told you to go back to your room, Lucy!" Damn it! ”He turned to her with all the rage in the world. Lucy cringed against the wall when she saw him approach.

"It's not even my room!" All this would not have happened if instead of marrying me you had married my sister! ”She cried. He ran away with tears clouding his sight. She couldn't take it anymore, she couldn't take her rejection, her screams anymore. She urgently needed to sink her head into her pillow and cry until she ran out of water on her body. She never imagined that she could yell at him like that, look at him with such contempt.

She entered the room slamming the door. She didn't care that Jungkook's parents heard her in her little tantrum. He ran to the bed and sat down as he placed his hand on his chest.

The door opened, then slammed shut more loudly than hers.

"Get up, let's talk," he demanded. Standing in front of the bed with his arms crossed. He was too irritated, he needed to control himself but that would require a time he didn't have.

"I don't want to talk to you," she denied as she drove her tear-stained gaze to the bed. She didn't want to look at him, she felt so humiliated and despised.

“You are an unconscious, how could it occur to you to wander around the house knowing that there is another male nearby that can smell you?” He growled, moving his arms from side to side, losing control. Thinking of everything that could have happened if he hadn't arrived on time, of the consequences that would have ruined everything. The moment an alpha marks you, you lose any chance of belonging to another male. The beta bite was easy to replace. But Taehyung was an alpha, if he had marked his precious neck, goodbye, because that would mean that his scent, his blood, his everything would belong to him. And that, that bitter feeling had him too upset. He didn't want it to belong to anyone but him, from the first time he smelled her, from the first time he saw her, he knew in the depths of his heart that this female would be for him.

"Do you mind?"

"Of course he does, you're my wife!"

“I am nothing of yours, nor have you even taken me!” His dominant roar caught him off guard. Accustomed to keeping situations under control, I let Lucy get up and push him away. Jungkook did not move, he was simply surprised by how really upset he noticed her. He felt so much disappointment, a craving so strong that it clouded his character. One more push, a heartbreaking sob, Jungkook caught his hands before he continued to hurt himself. Suddenly, all the anger, all the jealousy left her body, changing into a feeling of guilt. A terrible and distressing feeling of sadness. I hear her heart pound, her irises swell. She wasn't mad at him, she was mad at herself. That feeling ended up confusing him.

Lucy, still defeated by exhaustion, continued to stir in her arms, screaming, crying, pleading for him to leave. Jungkook ended up overpowered by his instincts, drawing her tightly to him. She was silenced by the touch of his hot breath on the sensitive skin of her upper lip. He swallowed, the alpha's fingers clenching his arm so eagerly that he would swear that tomorrow he would have bruises on his skin. I avoid eye contact, closing my eyes, tilting my head to avoid being controlled by her red irises.

"You haven't even kissed me ..." he confessed with all the pain in the world. Opening her eyes to send him a heartbreaking look, full of broken illusions. Jungkook stared at the deep detail of his yellowish irises. His fingers tightened more intensely, he could not control himself, less when the smell of his heat impacted urgently on his nose. Much less when an anxious moan emerged from her perfect lips after rubbing her thighs. Her eyelids half closed with excitement. Its brilliance startled at the bad need to be reciprocated.

Jungkook couldn't take it anymore, too much emotion, too much demure. He could no longer hold back, he had lost because he had fallen before his most primitive self. Jungkook squeezed his arm again, emitting a hoarse moan when he inhaled thoroughly. His smell. Damn it, it was dripping. It was ready for him, so that he would take it as he had wanted so much.

"Jungk ...

But he had already silenced her. He slammed her against the door to press her against his body. He grabbed her by the neck and brought her to his desperate mouth. Her lips parted wide, not caring that he was being too rough. He had been too long ignoring her wishes, now they would be more than rewarded. Lucy's eyes tightened at the addictive taste of his saliva. He groaned, letting his inner wolf take the reins, reaching up his hair to clench his hair in a fist as they eagerly ate their mouths. There was a moment when Jungkook parted his lips, causing such a flattering snap that he almost lost his identity. She, seized with excitement, ran to glue their mouths together, but Jungkook held her in place in an overly revealing growl. Lucy gasped in agitation from shortness of breath. Jungkook groaned before dominance kissing her again. Their kiss was so dirty, full of passion and accumulated lust. Out of necessity, Jungkook's hands slid down the curve of her waist until they reached her hip and clenched them eagerly. She stifled a pleading moan. He kept going down terribly slow, squeezing her bottom, making it collide with the protruding bulge that caged his pants.

"God I want to fuck you so badly." He almost drowned out his voice when he returned he felt the moisture of his crotch wet his needy erection. Lucy gasped in pain, a fear in her eyes making him stop abruptly. "Lucy, if you don't want us to ... We better stop now."

But she was too fucked up, she was still scared, but it wasn't because of the situation, or because of him, she was just panicked not to like him without clothes.

"I want to," she whispered, pulling her mischievous tooth closer to stretch her lip. Jungkook placed his open palms on his waist to bring his noses together and thus, not miss the detail of his dilated eyes.

"Fuck," I howl. Desperate, he urgently kneaded her butt making her moan. He crushed his hands on her thighs to lift her up. Her legs encircled his waist, her small body matched his so well. Jungkook didn't waste much time finishing taking her to the bed to throw her on the sheets. Her back bounced up the nightgown, revealing to her anxious eyes the sweet skin of her velvet thighs. Lucy, excited, tried to rub her thighs to calm the itch in her crotch, but Jungkook didn't let her. She crushed her hands to his skin and spread her legs too desperately. His hand went to his sweaty face, letting his fingers run in soft caresses down her neck, licking his lips at the sight so appetizing. He let his hand roam the endless ends of her collarbones, gently skirting the bone until she fell into the valley of her breasts with her nipples presenting herself enthusiastically to him. I knead one of her breasts while sighing. Lucy cried, dropping her head. Her delicious sweaty neck exposed for her mouth. I couldn't be more excited to mark it. Jungkook raised his corners to form a delightful smile, his eyes directed to the dark stain of her panties. "I can smell from here how needy you are for an alpha's cock."

"Please ..." I sob disturbed by the uncontrollable need I suffered. Her back was curved forward so as not to lose the sensation of his touch. With her legs open for him. Jungkook reached for her panties and gently squeezed her fingers. Making them wet and a little sticky. Lucy gasped, groaned, all she could emit was coming out of her half-open mouth. Her nightgown was almost ripped from her weak, dying body. Her nipples greeted him erect with excitement. On instinct, Jungkook licked his lips imagining what it would be like to have those beautiful, round and perfect breasts in his mouth. Another in his place would have lost his mind, ripped his pants off and started to fuck her, but maybe it was the time he had thought about having her so he wanted to have a little time, enjoy his body.

He took off his shirt, revealing his majestic figure, those broad shoulders, well-marked pecs that gnashed with the desire of his mouth to try, his damn abs, and above all, that path of pubic hair that disappeared through his pants. Those who hid something much more attractive. Jungkook threw his head back leaving the sight of his wide and shiny neck as a reward for how wet the accumulated sweat had left him.

"Give me time, honey." It's been a long time since I've wanted to know the taste of your skin. ”I whisper under a persuasive tone. I put my mouth to her neck to start distributing wet kisses and small bites that did nothing but leave her wanting more. I stick my tongue out to run it inside her neck, her hot breath contrasting against the wet area leaving her completely on edge. Lucy tried to close her thighs but found Jungkook's hips. Her nipples tightened from the pressure of his chest coupled with hers. His hand hooked into her silky hair to stretch from the roots. Jungkook growled disgust bringing his mouth to hers anxiously. Lucy opened her mouth when she felt the pressure of his tongue on her lower lip. I kiss her hard, hard. The nails superficially scratched his broad back as he came down to attack her neck again, this time, much stronger. There was no more compassion, he kissed her, mojo and bit as he wanted.

Like the hand between their bodies to knead her breast urgently, she embedded her nails into his skin when her nipple cried out in pain from the pressure just exerted.

"Oh, Jungkook," she moaned uncontrollably as she felt her teeth roam over his collarbones. His bites, despite being, a little strong, there was some love in them, an affection that was represented with kisses to calm the bruises. He caressed with the surface of his lip until he reached the sensitive skin of his halo, which he wet with his tongue and introduced into his mouth. The salty taste of his skin was too addictive, he was sure, when he had the privilege of clenching his nipple with his teeth, that this game had made him a gambler. It parted, leaving a click too suggestive to slide into the other.

"Shit, from the first time I saw you I wanted to do this." I speak against his skin creating tickles. Lucy moaned as she punched the sheets when her separation was with a suction. "If your pathetic boyfriend hadn't been there, he would have ripped your clothes off and fucked you right there."

"I would have left you," I sob. Too lost in how her tongue sank slowly into her navel. Her body spasmed slightly as she felt an overly suggestive kiss on top of her panties. The pressure of his mouth had been so wonderful that I swear at that moment, that when he took that garment out and kissed her again, he couldn't live a single day without it. Jungkook let out a too hoarse laugh, his breath hitting her folds directly as one of her fingers pushed aside her panties.

"Would my bitch let me pierce her sweet kitty with my huge cock?"

Jungkook stretched his mouth with pleasure as his eyes never stopped looking at his needy gaze. Lucy swallowed nervously, anxious that her lips that brushed her tender spot would drop a little further. Jungkook licked his lips one last time before crushing a sweet kiss right in the center.

"Jungkook ..." she howled agitatedly as she felt more pressure from her sinful lips. Her tongue came to play an important role, starring in a walk between her folds leaving her with a dry throat. "God, yes! Jungkook please ..." She kept screaming ecstatically, and somehow, she loved it. His cock vibrated with enthusiasm inside her pants. She loved his pleading as he kissed her inflated clit. He brought a finger to the scene, stroking its red button so he could stick his tongue down. Lucy moaned uncontrollably with her legs too restless, Jungkook held her open with one hand while the other pressed her palm against his center, before taking the liberty of inserting a finger. His hole cutter sucked easily. A compassionate scream succumbed strongly when she felt what her first orgasm was. Her cheek was resting on the pillow with her mouth open for better breathing. Her belly rising and falling. Her legs dropping from exhaustion.

Jungkook broke up to enjoy his work. Seeing her so agitated just with his tongue made her want to tear her apart. I eagerly remove his pants to release his needy cock. Lucy's eyes widened at the noise and she looked at her. It was much larger than he had expected with the wet pink tip of his own precum. Jungkook moved his cock, stretching his skin, letting the beta's ears hear the wet snap of her masturbation. Her mouth became water but that did not remove the fear that began to help her. It was her first time, she had had an orgasm lubricating her entrance much more, however, that did not block the thoughts of how that would fit inside her little hole. She started to panic because until now she hadn't noticed the pain the first few times.

She tried to get up off the mattress too agitated but Jungkook wrapped her neck to lay her down again. Her red irises caused yellow ones to appear. Lucy began to stir from lack of oxygen while complaining in sobs. Jungkook groaned dominant, leaving her completely still. Pleasure clouded her mind again, leaving her under his control.

"Spread your legs for me, darling," I order too impatiently. Lucy spread her legs, clearing the way for her moisture to hit her nose again. With his free hand he brought the tip of his cock to his hole, letting just his touch cause impatient moans. I run the tip to lubricate with his moisture, Lucy dropped her head while panting too far. "Shit, your little wet kitten is soaking the tip of my cock. Do you want it inside you?"

"Yes," I sob. Spreading your legs wider if possible. Jungkook groaned satisfied at his submission. Her fingers closed enthusiastically in his throat.

"A lot?"

"A lot..."

Sliding slowly so as not to harm him, finally, he introduced the first centimeters, causing both screams of pleasure. Jungkook started to get dizzy when his tight entrance pressed his walls against him.

"Shit, I won't be able to control myself, you're too close." I sob, letting out a shaky gasp. Too much pleasure was beginning to impose his impulses on his clarity. It was her first time, she really didn't want to split her in two, but it was so hard to stay steady when as he entered, inch by inch, she urgently spread her legs wider.

"Don't do it, take me however you want." You are my alpha I am at your disposal.

She was so good that she took away what little sanity she had forced herself to keep. He placed himself faithfully on top of her, trying not to crush her completely. He slid his hand down her throat to the nape of her neck and pulled her into his desperate mouth. Their tongues were too anxious. She felt Lucy's nails adjust to her skin, her other hand stretching the strands of her disheveled hair. The kiss was cut off by her when Jungkook made his first lunge. Her head fell limp to the pillow, offering her neck without realizing it. Jungkook grabbed her hips to improve her fit. Lucy moaned again and he smiles on the skin of her chin.

"My sweet submissive puppy." He kissed her ear with a too dark tenderness. Lucy gasped as she let her lips stutter meaninglessly. Jungkook clenched his hips eagerly as he picked up a much more predatory rhythm. He ended up panting hoarsely against his ear. "Tonight I'll settle for taking you like that, spreading my legs as I sink the way I want." But the rest of the nights I want you with your ass up showing me that delicious ass.

"More, give me, more." I almost shouted. Disoriented by the cloud of pleasure that clouded her mind. Her nails leaving small furrows of reddened skin. His hands melted into her hips celebrating a devastating rhythm. It was no longer controlled, the need to make her moan was much stronger.

"Do you like how I fuck you?" I whisper agitatedly against her ear as the head of the bed hit the wall with fury. "My good bitch is going to carry my puppies."

"Yes Yes."

"Shit." He closed his eyes ecstatically. He had never felt such pleasure, it was as if all his instincts would rise to a thousand and his belly was about to explode in a wonderful way.

Lucy gasped as the pressure returned to her lower abdomen. He brought his hands up to his neck when Jungkook lovingly assaulted his neck again. Lucy groaned in shock as she felt the sharp tips of her fangs crash against her warm skin. He didn't even know why they had appeared, Jungkook had only become aware of his presence when he tried to kiss an old ribeye.

"Take me," she gasped in overwhelming anxiety. Jungkook put his hand to his neck, turned his head to his liking, and finally sank his fangs into his flesh. Jungkook stopped his movements to prevent the wound from getting bigger. Not realizing that the orgasm overwhelmed them when she decided to drink his blood. When they were removed, two small holes were marked on his neck that would later disappear. Creating a bond for life. Lucy pressed her cheek to the fluffy surface with more than surprise. Feeling his cum dripping inside her, hitting her walls with enthusiasm as her small contractions milked him patiently. She was suddenly deeply excited.

A few minutes later, Jungkook came out of it. He lay on the bed with one arm tucked under his head. Lucy snuggled into his chest a little shy as she felt Jungkook's hand tighten on her hip to pull her closer.

"Why did you take so long?" She murmured a little self-consciously. He had just realized that he had been screaming too enthusiastically. She blushed embarrassed. Still a little dizzy, she crushed her cheek to his warm chest. His breath fell heavily against her hair, relaxing her.

"For fear of letting my impulses dominate me. I didn't want to hurt you."

"That time..."

"Yes, dammit, there was nothing I wanted in the world more than to eat your mouth and put your butt on my father's desk." But I shouldn't, we barely knew each other and I didn't want you to form a wrong image of me.

Lucy put a hand on her chest and looked at him with her eyes open.

"And what image do you think I have of you now?"

"I don't care, because I'm going to do what I told you, Lucy." I love you every night with me.

"Do you love me?" Jungkook managed to perceive her emotion, as her heartbeat ran wild inside her chest, giving her away completely.

"I don't love you, I love you."

They both drew a too cute smile.

"Me too, alpha."

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huh-i-guess · 4 years

Text

Now You Need Me

Erik Killmonger X Black!Reader

Warnings: Angst(?)

Word Count: 1,854

This is the first fic I have ever written and I have no clue if this is good or not, ngl. I am super nervous about posting this, I’ve read so much fanfic and been too scared to write but today I just said F it! The gif is not mine!

“Bye girl!”

“Bye Leigh! Thanks for the party, tell Marvin if he tries some shit imma beat his ass when I see him next!” I shout at one of my homegirls who has been fucking around with this high key chill but hella ignorant POS.

“Take yo fine ass to bed sis, GOODNIGHT!” She scoffs as she speeds off in her whip. I chuckle as I make my way into my shared apartment with one of my besties from college, Cameron. I have known her for the past 10 years and she truly has been a ride or die who makes sure that we both have our heads screwed on straight. As I make my way up into the apartment I notice that the lights are all off, which isn't unusual because it is about 2:30 and she heads off to bed hella early, always talking bout how she “got work in the morning”. She gets her ass up at 8:00 every morning… weekends included, I don’t know how somebody would willingly wake up that early on weekend but Cami does. I cut on the light over the kitchen and notice a note on the counter that just tells me that I’m on dish duty next week and that there is also a surprise in my room. I swear if I walk in that room and there is some random shit in it, Imma wake her up and keep her up till the sun say what’s poppin’. I trot into my room carrying my shoes and drop them by the side of my dresser, when they make contact with the floor the light abruptly turns on. I grab tightly on my clutch and get ready to swing.

“Damn Ma, chill, its just lil’ ole me”

“ERIK!” I scoff and sigh. Deciding to proceed with my nightly routine. “Was this the “Surprise” Cami had in store for me? You?” I state with a displeased voice.

“Yeah, you miss me? I ain’t gon lie… I’ve missed you” Erik said shamelessly. I have not seen this man in 3 and a half years. Not one text, nor call, nor note, nor flower, no nada.

“What the hell do you want? And why did Cami let you in?” I ask dismissively as I put my purse on the hook and don’t even bother looking his way.

“That’s how we really gotta be, huh? You really ain’t happy to see me?” the nerve and balls this man has…“Erik, I’m not one of your little side pieces who drops her panties at the sight of you and begs to be at your knees. You know that. Now, Imma ask you one last time, What. Do. You. Want.” I am not in the mood for his shit especially after what he did to me and how he up and left me.

“You used to be one of them but,” he shrugs his shoulders.

“ERIK-” I shout as I whip around to face him.

“Alright damn, you need to get laid,” he stated, and truthfully, he was not wrong, it’s been three years since anyone has made me feel the way that that man has but he does NOT need to know that. “I ain’t here to push your buttons and pipe in on your sex life, unless you want me to,” he winks and I grimace, “but I need your help with something, and before you try to bus a cap in me, I’ll let you know how much you’ll get paid.” He really must have lost his mind to think that after leaving me in the middle of the night, a day after one of our missions, in the middle of a foreign ass country, with no way to contact him, or his crew, that I would ever want to work with him again. Especially now with me being out of the game and trying to lead a semi-normal life. How did he even find me? I've taken myself off of the all government watchlists and made sure that I am always aware of anything relating to me and that I clear it asap. Actually, he’s Erik fucking Killmonger, nevermind.

“Do you want to explain to me why the hell I would want to work with you again, and possibly put myself back on the radar? I’ve spent so much time tryna clear my name from doing shit with you and now that I’m finally free of your ass, you prance your fine evil ass back into my life. You left me there Erik. YOU” I poke him in the chest for emphasis, “LEFT me there, you didn’t leave a note, you didn’t call. You didn’t text. And you know what the worst part was? You let me take part of the fall for your shit. I had to bargain with the United States government to get my freedom back you piece of shit. They made me hack and cover up a bunch of shit for almost 2 years and you know I hate our government. THEN, S.H.I.E.L.D. made me do a helluva lot more tedious and time consuming shit, and they kept me as a prisoner for half a year. And you think that you get to waltz into my home after 3 years, bat your eyelashes, lick your juicy ass lips and then ask me to go down for you again? You must have lost your goddamn mind. Truly!” I whisper scream at him hoping Cami stays asleep down the hall. I cannot believe this nigga.

“I didn’t even say what it was I needed your help with but you clearly stay jumpin’ to conclusions, just like before. If you’d like to let me get a word in lil’ miss thing, I will” Erik stated. I really missed him but I should not miss a man who got me locked up in a superhero jail cell.

“Speak then, Killmonger.” I pushed. “Damn, aright, Imma tell you the price first. Its royalty. That is the price, I’ll make you royalty.”

Is he-Is he serious? What happened to him in those three years, I know I went to fuzzy, upscale, white people jail, and what the fuck did he do? Lose his mind, that’s what he did.

“Nigga, what kind of weed have you been smoking? Royalty. This ain’t Coming to America. We live in America and we don’t have royals. We have a fat, mentaly unstable, racist, orange thing in the office right now. Where have you been for the past 3 years?” I exclaim.

“Look, bae, I know what the fuck is in office right now and I know that we are in the United States but, last I checked and according to Maps of the world, the U.S. ain’t it. Damn, Americans really do think they are the only ones on the planet. There is an East African country called Wakanda. You know it?” He questioned.

“Yeah, fool, I’m not dumb. And not all Americans think like that. You should know that soldier.”

“Well, Wakanda is seen as a third world country with major poverty and a major lack of developments, and Imma tell you, that shit ain’t true.” He shrugged.

“I’m sorry but what would you know?” I deadpanned.

“I’m from Wakanda, Ma.” He disclosed matter-of-factly.

“Ummmm, I must have missed something Oakland boy. You’re tryna tell me that you are NOT from Oakland, California? That makes little to no sense. But if you are from Wakanda, then how did you go into the Navy SEALS?” I question in disbelief.

“I was born in the states, baby girl. Pops was Wakandan. I’ve been telling you I was foreign.” He teased and pulled down his lower lip showing off an interesting blue tattoo.

“I’m supposed to believe you after all of the shit that you’ve done? I’m supposed to forgive you? Actually, pause, why would I even forgive you? You haven’t even apologized. You’re always so damn cocksure and I know you're not gonna apologize because the words, “I’m sorry” are not in your vocabulary. Knowing yo ass you probably thought I forgot because you think I’m mesmerized by yo “glorious” looks.” I pressed.

“You are really going in on me. I must have really hurt you. You want a kiss to make it better or do you want to kiss and make up?” He baited. I am at a loss for words.

“You, Erik “Killmonger” Stevens, disgust me. The fact that I was in love with yo cocky, unfiltered, disrespectful, heartless, ruthless, and twisted self, really makes me realize just how much I needed to grow. I told myself I would NEVER EVER take the blame and bit the bullet for a nigga. And guess what? That is exactly what I did. I lost myself and my dream tryna beg for your love and your attention and look where it got me. ON a GOVERNMENT watchlist, in prison and tired. Look I’m not Cookie from Empire, I’m not gonna take you back after taking the fall for your ass, so you can take that “royalty” shit and shove it up your ass because I am not gonna ruin my life any further for you. Cami let me make some mistakes and they were some really bad ones but I never told her about how I fell for you. She just thinks that you're some ex who wants me back and was good for me that I pushed you away because that’s what I do, welp, no. Not this time.” I voiced painfully not even feeling the tears falling from my eyes. I looked as Erik just stood there showing no type of emotion. No pain, no regret, no smugness, just looking like he was trying to find an emotion to react but he couldn’t find one. “Do you feel nothing Erik? You so damn, UGH!” I can’t even bring myself to finish my sentence as I collapse onto my bed. I feel an added weight on my bed and feel arms wrap around me.

“I’m so so sorry, baby girl. I know that what I did was wrong and I’ve watched for so long trying to figure out how to make this right and I can’t. I can’t think of a way to be there for you and I know it is hard especially since I’m the one who got you into this situation but that is exactly why I want you to come be my queen and rule Wakanda with me. To make this right, we can make our own laws, be our own government, have power, money and whatever you want. I’ve been gone a long time and I should have been there for you. I’m sorry, baby. Do you forgive me?” He admitted while he kissed my forehead. I am in complete disbelief. Erik Stevens just apologized, and did he propose or was I hallucinating? No, wait a minute I refuse to fall in love with this sweet talking piece of shit who got me sent to jail.

“What if I say no, Erik?”

~~~~~This is so bad. I’m so sorry~~~~~

It is ALSO 3:36AM, Imma sleep. 4/25/2020

#erik stevens #erik killmonger #erik killmonger x reader #erik stevens x reader #my work

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werenotacoupleyesyouare · 4 years

Text

IT HAPPENED AGAIN I FINISHED ROYAL ASSASSIN BEFORE EVEN MAKING A POST

-I will get into chronological order in a second but first, a rant: FITZ WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK HOW DO YOU THINK THAT WAS A GOOD IDEA OH MY GOD FITZ WHAT IN THE EVERLOVING-

-okay more on that later

- Glad to see no one died between book one and two, everyone is back and sexier than before of course except for Regal who was already the sexiest bitch in Buck keep

- just kidding y’all know that is Burrich

- I love how Robin Hobb decided we had to know that Burrich Fucks, I appreciate that of her

-Fitz is, as always, a complete dumbass. I’m starting to think that this is not just a temporary situation anymore

-Kettricken is really incredible, I may need to jump on the Kettricken simp train (although I’m more of a Patience lady myself I gotta say)

- This isn’t really an update but I keep thinking abiut how Galend used to say “you shall not have any contact with the opposite sex” like he wasn’t the only straight person in BuckKeep (well the only cishet at least except maybe for Shrewd)

Allow me to elaborate: Fitz and Molly? Bi. Hands? Gay. Burrich? Bi and not over his breakup with Chivalry. Patience? Bi and dating Lacey (lesbian). Verity and Kettricken are both trans, there is no way you can convince me otherwise. August is gay and repressed, which is different from Regal who is gay and homophobic. The fool is gender queer. Chivalry was pan. Chade is gay. The two girl classmates of Fitz one who became leader of the skilled kidz and the other who dropped out are dating, they broke up bc Galend’s psychological abuse had messed them up terribly but now they’re back together. (Update now I know more names, selene and justin both raging homos, truly evil stupid wlw/mlm solidariety). Will is gay too.

- OH I DESPERATELY WANT TO SEE BURRICH AND THE FOOL INTERACT I THINK THEY’D GET GET ALONG;; Burrich is friends with most of the young folk in Buckkeep, he’s a mentor to all of them and idk how old the fool is but I know they didn’t have that and they’re lonely as shit. They’re both done with every single person in BuckKeep and they both have at least one braincell, which is apparently extremely rare around here

-I love Fitz’s constant theme of “no one in BuckKeep knew. I was so furtive and secretive. No one could ever guess what I was doing” when he’s visiting either Night Eyes or Molly because I know all the folk in BuckKeep are like “ah shit there he goes again going to see that fucking wolf”

- MOLLY AND FITZ ARE SERIOUSLY SO DRAMATIC HDHENDJDJHFHDHC they gave me my fav scene ever though, where Molly and Fitz are doing their Dramatic Breakup Speech outside of Burrich’s room, while the Fool and Burrich are inside listening w a glass on the door like “shit- shit he’s coming in get away get away- Hello Fitz!”

- drunk fool was chaotic energy at its finest

- Patience and Kettricken keep being the absolute best I swear if Verity doesn’t come back I am marrying his wife myself

- on that note VERITY SIR I THOUGHT AT LEAST YOU HAD THE BRAINCELL,,, OH YES I’LL GO ALONE ON A MYTHICAL QUEST TO LOOK FOR FAIRIES SURELY MY EVIL BROTHER WON’T TRY ANYTHING WHILE I’M GONE ❤️

- ok everyone by now knows that I’m both a huge patience and burrich simp, but I will not believe for a second that they were in love, sorry Patience is in a happy relationship w Lacey and Burrich was always in love with Chivalry, I will not accept any other version of the story ❤️

- and now onto the sad part

- OKAY look I will tolerate any shit a character does, literally they could kill Fitz and I wouldn’t bat an eye but when Regal had the AUDACITY to order his men to hurt the Fool,,,, that was the irredeemable point of no return for me, Fuck regal all my homies hate regal

- I am growing extremely fond of the fool they’re the sweetest character so far I am honestly in love, also they’re smart thank god we needed someone with braincells near Fitz because that boy is a complete dumbass

- also the “Who did this to you.” scene after the fool got beaten up the first time,,,, I sense multishipping times nearing on the horizon

- when I tell you I cried my eyes out during Shrewd’s death,,,,,,,, not bc I care about the guy, pretty annoying as he was, but seeing the fool crying is not something I will ever recover from thanks

- everyone keeps saying that night eyes has the braincell out of him and Fitz but honestly!! That’s not true!! The wolf is a dumbass as well, it’s just that anyone put against Fitz would seem like a genius!!

- Fitz not realizing that Molly’s “the one I care most about” and Burrich’s “female friend who needs a hand” might,,, be related,,,,,,,,, lol

- idk if it’s actually like that but imagine how devastating it would be for Fitz to have his girlfriend stolen by his fucking DAD

or well father figure but still

- the way Fitz talks about Molly tho 💕💕

- The foreshadowing of Kettricken’s child actually being still born,,,,,,,,,,, I pretend I do not see

- The “let him go night eyes, he’s not yours” scene gave me chills tbh

- I’m manifesting some flashbacks of younger Chivalry, Verity, Patience and Burrich,,, I wanna see the dynamics,,,, don’t think I won’t write it myself if there aren’t any

- so yeah I have already started book three because I have no self control, every time Fitz skills out to Molly he gets a different picture of Burrich doing house work, if Fitz keeps this up he’ll be able to bless us all with the Hot Burrich Calendar we all deserve

Ending notes! I thought I would skip the liveship traders trilogy but everyone told me that it’s not a good idea so I’ll read everything in order :)

I am completely obsessed with these books please send help

Tagging some beautiful people @violetiris-ak @garnetrena @wolfofmars

#the farseer trilogy #farseer trilogy #greta reads #realm of the elderlings #rotE #fitzchivalry farseer #the royal assassin #fitz farseer

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charmspoint · 3 years

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I've been out of this life for a while, so I need to catch up. 1) ask with 35 questions 13, 26, and, of course, 35. I am glad that you meet the questions with answer options like the last one. And a huge thank to the restriction of words in ask, so I have to send everything separately.

Welcome back! I hope you’ve been doing okay, I’m happy to see you in my inbox again.

Let’s get right to it! For this ask meme!

13. First fandom you ever wrote for?

That would be Durarara! I started writing for it when I was like 13 lmaooo, that was still back when FanFiction was main fic hub and not AO3. All my fics back then were SO EDGY like classic 13yr old stuff. But I do have fond memories of it. I mostly did Izaya/shizaya related stuff but I also did some self-insert/oc fics too and everyone there was so nice. I even made a friend there who’s responsible for getting me into roleplaying, lmao I met them through a wish fulfilment/self-insert fic. I always think about how grateful I am to people on fanfiction, I got a lot of reviews on my fics even tho they weren’t that good and I never once got a negative comment only nice ones. So it’s really them I have to thank for gaining confidence in my writing and continuing to do it to this day, hopefully a little better then back then. I still have my old fanfiction account but I’m never going to share with anyone because….it’s super embarrassing I was so young (⊙_⊙). But I do have very fond memories of it, I’m glad I was in that fandom in that time, humble beginnings but lots of nice memories.

26. Is there anything you’ve wanted to write, but you’ve been too scared to try?

Hmmm I don’t think there’s anything I’ve been scared to try but, and this is gonna sound weird, I really wanna write an omegaverse fic one day. And it’s not even for the sex like I don’t mind sex but I’m not super into writing it and I almost never write it in plot focused fics cuz….it just aint my thing. There’s sex in Ignite me which I wrote with a friend who wanted to include it but most I’ve ever done in my fics is kinda implied in Red String of Death. I’m…..getting way off topic. Anyway while I get omegaverse is like born for kink, that’s not what I’m really interested in. What I’m interested in is the world building and primarily pack dynamics. Think about it! There’s alphas n betas n omegas but most ppl just use A and O like :/ the fuck are betas there for. Like I know this is cuz most ppl are using it for sex and most ppl are monogamous and most ppl are just using it as shorthand for dom n sub but :///// my poly ass is asking for betas. You don’t just have three genders without a reason, betas would have a role in society and more importantly a role in family structure. In our society the most common pair structure is male x female but in theirs it wouldn’t be alpha x omega it would be alpha x beta x omega. So what does that mean for other pairings. Is alpha x omega considered unbalanced, deviant? Who takes what role in the household, wouldn’t people challenge those roles? Would there be trans alpha/betas/omegas, what the fuck is gender even in this society? Would having multiple secondary genders of the same kind in one relationship be considered weird, if so which would be more accepted and which less? I wanna know! So yeah not really scared of it as much as trying to figure out the right fandom and the right characters to do this on. I wanna write a sexless omegaverse fics focused on pack structure :3

35. Ramble about any fic-related thing you want!

I feel like I talked a lot already lmaooo I needed to get a good rant out of my system apparently. Here’s another fun thing I’ve been thinking about recently. Winter is my favorite season to write atmosphere wise. The entire plot of Call of the Wild happens in winter while in Red String of Death not only does dabihawks die in winter for the first time there is also a moment later where I use incoming cold to set atmosphere for a quieter scene. Winter is so useful! It can be turned into so many things think about it! Like if you want an angry, frenzied atmosphere, snowstorms are right there, biting chill, completely unable to see from snow flying everywhere. Happy atmosphere? Think about children going out to play in the snow, the pure white fluffy one early in the morning, still fresh and easy to play with. Somber, quiet, longing atmosphere? There will never be anything more quiet then a winter night, when the snow is muffling all sound, dark sky above and endless fields of white bellow. I love winter atmospheres!

#justfreshapple #ahhh i had a lot of fun answering this #apperently im talkactive today!#ask game

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bee-kathony · 5 years

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The Oath | Ch. 30 “The End”

a/n: Thank you so much for reading! This story means so much to me and I can't believe it's over. I have loved telling it and have loved every single comment over the last several months. It's been such a joy to write and I'm so sad that it's over, but I have other things I want to write. It's pretty open ended, so you never know...... ;)

Arc I | Ch. 16 | Ch. 17 | Ch. 18 | Ch. 19 | Ch. 20 | Ch. 21 | Ch. 22 | Ch. 23 | Ch. 24 | Ch. 25 | Ch. 26 | Ch. 27 | Ch. 28 | Ch. 29

2 years later… August 3rd, 2022

Claire rushed through the door, setting her keys and umbrella down on the front table. It had been raining for a week straight with no end in sight — everything was wet, and Claire was growing tired of her hair being an unmanageable mess.

“I’m home!” She shouted to the house and then a moment later, two high pitched shrieks came from the other room.

Madeline came running towards her, hands outstretched and Claire caught her, twirling her in the air. The little girl laughed and threw her head back, her red pigtails flying behind her. As Claire set her back down, Julietta came stumbling around the corner.

A month after their honeymoon in Greece, two years ago, Claire had realized one morning that her period was late. Eight months later… enter Julietta.

“Are ye absolutely sure that the two wee pink lines means yer pregnant, Sassenach?” Jamie asked Claire as he picked up the home pregnancy box to read the direction once again.

“Yes, I am,” Claire repeated. “It’s the same brand as the last time, and it’s showing the same pink lines.” She peered over into his hands as he held the stick, her heart hammering. They both hadn’t expected to conceive so soon; they wanted to wait until Madeline was at least two years old. But life had other plans it seemed.

“When ye go into work tomorrow, I’ll come wi’ ye,” Jamie said, placing the stick down on the counter. “Then ye can have another test done just to confirm, aye?”

“Sounds good,” Claire smiled and wrapped her hands around his neck, leaning up to place a kiss on his lips. “So, this is good news right?”

Jamie’s face twisted with confusion as he looked down at her, and then he pushed a few curls behind her ear, his other hand resting on her hip. “Of course it’s good news, mo chridhe. Tis the best news I could ever get! I ken that we planned on somethin’ different, but we’ve never been verra good at planning these sorts of things.”

Claire snorted and buried her head against his chest, momentarily listening to the sound of his erratic beating heart.

“Are you scared at all? To have another child?” She asked, saying all of this to his chest.

“I wouldna say scared, Sassenach,” Jamie stroked her head lightly, calming her. “But I’m nervous, aye. Worrit that I’ll no be good at givin’ my attention to two bairns and to ye, to balance it all. But mostly,” he looked down and placed his hand under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. “I’m happy. That this time, I get to be there from the beginning, to feel every kick and to hold yer hair when ye have morning sickness.”

Tears sprang to Claire’s eyes as she thought back to her first pregnancy and how the first five months she had done it alone — by choice of course, but alone nonetheless. Now, she would have Jamie with her every step of the way.

“I dinna begrudge ye for no’ havin’ me there the first time, but Christ,” he grinned, lifting her slightly in the air. “I’m sae happy! Ye are so beautiful, Claire when yer wi’ child, and to ken that Madeline will soon have a wee brother or sister…” he trailed off, thinking of the future.

“We’ll take it one day at a time,” Claire smiled and ran her thumb over his cheek. “And I’m glad that you get to be here from the beginning too, Jamie. I wanted to tell you so badly when I found out last time.”

Jamie kissed her, and rested his forehead against hers. “It was bound to happen,” he chuckled, a deep hum in his chest. “We must’ve had sex near on thirty times when we were in Greece.”

Claire playfully hit his chest, laughing. “You were the one that wanted a nice round number.”

“What can I say?” He slid his hands down over her arse, squeezing firmly to lift her legs around his waist. “I love my wife verra much.”

On March 17th, 2021, Julietta Elena Fraser came into the world. They had decided to wait until the child was born to find out the sex, and were delightfully surprised to welcome another girl.

The first few months were the hardest — adjusting to life with two small children. Julietta needed so much attention, and Madeline was hitting milestone after milestone. Learning to walk, beginning to say her first real words that weren’t gibberish. At times, Jamie and Claire felt they were stretched in too many directions, but at night when both children were asleep, and they could find solace in each other’s arms, they knew it was all worth it.

“Hello my sweetie,” Claire bent down to hug Julietta as she fell into her arms. At seventeen months, she was eager to always be on her feet which caused only a slight headache for Jamie and Claire. “Mummy missed you and your sister while she was gone today, did you have fun with daddy?”

Julietta nodded, placing her hand on Claire’s cheek and then Madeline was tugging on Claire’s arm. Holding Julietta’s hand, Claire walked with her daughters into the kitchen where Jamie was laying the table with the most delicious smelling pasta carbonara.

“Hello, Sassenach,” Jamie’s face lit up at the sight of his girls. “We’re glad that yer home.”

“Go and play with your sister until dinner, little miss,” Claire instructed Mads who led her younger sister over into the den where all their toys were strewn around the carpet.

Walking around the counter, Claire sighed and laid her head against Jamie’s chest. “Hi,” she said said softly and closed her eyes, enjoying the feeling of her solid husband beneath her.

“Are ye alright?” He asked, setting aside his spoon to wrap his arms around her.

“I’m better than I thought I would be,” Claire replied.

“I still think ye should’ve let me come wi’ ye to see him,” Jamie said, resting his chin on the top of her head. “I hate that ye had to face him alone.”

One arm tightened around her, and Claire nodded. “I wish you were there too, but I know I needed to do this on my own. It was important to say what I did and put it all behind me.”

“So how did he look?” Jamie asked, glancing down at Claire.

“He’s seen better days,” Claire shrugged. “Frank’s in prison, has been for over two years now — he looks bloody awful.”

“Now I really wish I came wi’ ye,” Jamie said and Claire smirked, hitting his side lightly with her hand. “But yer okay, really?”

“Yeah,” Claire said. “I think I’ll be alright. We’ll be alright.”

It had been Jamie’s idea for Clare to visit Frank while he was in prison. The conversation came up almost a year ago, and Claire was hesitant at first, but came around to the idea. It was only now, five months before his release that she finally felt that she could face him.

Claire had never been inside a prison before, and she didn’t have any idea what to expect. She was led through security, where she had to check her phone and other personal belongings at the front desk. Then a security guard took her to the visitors room where she waited to see him.

A few minutes later, a buzzer sounded and a door across the room opened. Prisoners dressed in orange jumpsuits filed in one by one. Some looked completely normal while others gave Claire chills. She knew she would be safe though — prisoners weren’t allowed in the visitors room unless they had been cleared.

Finally, she saw him. Frank.

What once was a handsome, fine chiseled face was now haggard and worn. When he saw her, he smiled. Not the same chilling smile he had given her at the courthouse, but one of an old friend.

“Hello, Claire,” he said as he approached her. “It’s nice to see a familiar face.”

“Don’t get many visitors?” Claire asked, watching him as he sat down across the table from her.

He shrugged, and Claire noticed he looked thinner, but life inside four walls day after day with strict food regulations would do that to a person.

“Alex comes to visit me once a month, and my mother and father have come up a few times over the years,” he said.

“That’s good that they came,” Claire said, suddenly feeling like this was a mistake.

“I must ask,” Frank said. “Just why are you here, Claire? I ruined your life, surely you wouldn’t want to ever see me again?”

“You attempted to ruin my life,” Claire corrected. “You didn’t, however.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Frank said and he sounded sincere.

There was no point in wasting time, Claire only was allowed to see him for ten minutes. Last night she’d been wracking her brain trying to think of what to say to him. Her first emotion was anger and betrayal. Followed by hurt and then more anger. She told herself that the first thing she would do when she saw him was slap him straight across the face, but that thought had left her mind the moment she saw the state he was in.

“I hated you,” she said and he looked up at her, meeting her eyes. “For a very long time, I hated you for what you tried to do. For causing my family so much trouble and heartache. It wasn’t right, Frank, it wasn’t,” she shook her head. “And I never understood why you would want another man’s daughter so badly to lie like that. It still doesn’t make sense.”

“You want answers,” Frank said, nodding. He had been a professor, a good one at that, and Claire had loved sitting in on his lectures, watching as he commanded the room. Now he sat before her, small and weak and that man she once knew was long gone, replaced by a man that had lost himself.

“I do,” she said.

“Honestly, Claire, I couldn’t begin to tell you why I did the things I did back then,” he hung his head, looking at his hands on the table. “It was a cowardly thing to do and I realize that now — I didn’t at the time. When you left me,” he said, his voice sounding strained. “I realized how badly I needed you in my life, and I went mad with trying to think of a way to win you back. No woman I had after you compared to you, Claire Beauchamp.”

“Fraser,” she corrected, making sure her left hand with her ring was on display.

“That’s right,” he swallowed as he caught sight of Jamie’s mother’s ring. “What I did was foolish and I understand how wrong I was. I know that you can never forgive me for what I did, Claire.”

Forgiveness. It was such a lovely sounding word, but in reality it was one of the hardest to put into practice. For so long, Claire had felt nothing but bitterness towards the man she once thought she loved. He had ripped her world apart and together with Jamie, they had mended it and made it into something even better. Could she forgive the man that had caused her so much pain?

As Claire looked at him, really looked at Frank, she realized that she only felt peace. Of course she could forgive him and she already had.

“I do forgive you, Frank,” she said and he looked shocked at this. “I forgive you and I want you to make a good life for yourself once you get out of here. I truly hope that you’ve learned from your mistakes and that you don’t inflict that kind of pain onto someone else.”

“I won’t, I promise,” he agreed.

“Don’t promise,” Claire said and reached for something in her purse. “You might break your promise, but learn from this, from all of this and try and become someone good.”

With a shaky breath, Claire slid a picture of her family across the table. Frank looked down and picked it up, his eyes scanning the image. It was one of their most recent family pictures, taken at a carnival held in the nearby town last month. Julietta had fallen asleep in Jamie’s arms after one ride, and Madeline had eaten too much popcorn and gotten sick on the car ride home.

“That’s Madeline, she’s almost three. Clearly she takes after Jamie, where Julietta our youngest has dark hair like me,” Claire said, studying Frank’s facial expression.

“Anyone that sees her would know she’s his,” he said softly. “How foolish I was.”

After staring at the picture for another minute, Frank slid the picture back to Claire and she tucked it safely into her purse.

“I came here for me,” Claire said. “For Jamie, Madeline and Julietta. So that their mother and wife could be free from you. I forgive you, and I know that this will be the last time we speak.”

“Thank you for seeing me,” he said and the guards were already coming around to tell them their time was up. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve done. Your family… they’re beautiful and I’m glad that I didn’t mess it up too terribly.”

“Goodbye, Frank,” Claire smiled sadly and then left, not pausing or taking a look back at him. She had said her peace and her heart felt lighter in the process. Gathering her things from the front desk, Claire climbed into her car and made her way home to her family for dinner.

++++++

Later that evening, Claire brought the girls up for bath time. They had tried bathing them separately, but one time when Jamie was giving Julietta her bath, Madeline had gotten jealous and climbed in to join, clothes and all. Since then, it was a joint bath and everyone was happier.

“What did you ladies get up to while you were with daddy today?” Claire asked Madeline as she massaged shampoo into her curly red hair.

“Coloured pictures,” Madeline smiled. “Ate sammiches and a moooovie,” she said the “o” like a cow and Claire laughed.

“A rather fun day,” Claire grinned. “Close your eyes and hold your breath!” Picking up a small cup, Claire scooped up water and poured it over the top of her daughter’s head. The little girl shook her head, splashing water around the bath and onto Claire.

“Watch it, little miss,” Claire laughed and splashed a bit of water back. “Or I’ll have to get daddy to come in and pour a big bucket of water over your head! He would lift it high and splash!”

“No!” Madeline giggled and covered her face with her hands.

Moving on to wash Julietta’s small bit of dark hair, Madeline began to play with a small rubber ducky. It had been a gift Jamie had gotten her on her first birthday and every birthday and Christmas since, he had added another to her collection. She had given each a name — Mr. Quacks, Lucy, Blue, Wiggles and Ducky.

When Claire was pregnant with Julietta, Madeline had been so excited. Once they told her she would have a new baby brother or sister, she would kiss Claire’s stomach goodnight and make sure to say hello to it every morning. And when Julietta was born, she wouldn’t leave her side, always asking to hold her or help feed her. She took her job of being a big sister very seriously.

Once both little girls were scrubbed and squeaky clean, Claire called Jamie over from the other room to come and help dry them off.

“Which one shall I take?” Jamie said, and Madeline raised her small hand, flailing it in her air.

“Me, Da!” She squealed.

Grabbing a big pink towel, he picked her up and wrapped her like a cocoon, and held her close to him. He loved his daughters dearly, and being a father was one of the greatest things that had ever happened to him.

“You next wee fish,” Claire lifted Julietta out of the bath and wrapped her in the towel, drying her off.

“Read a story?” Madeline asked as Jamie wiped her face with the corner of the towel.

“Aye, I’ll read ye a story. Any of yer choosin’,” he smiled.

Jamie and Claire carried both girls into their shared room to get dressed in pajamas. After Julietta turned one, they had moved her into Madeline’s room. Claire could just see it now when they were a little bit older — the late night giggles she would hear, the dress up parties, all the fun they would have.

Claire always wanted a sister growing up, and she was happy that her daughters had that companion in each other now.

Both girls were tucked in their beds and Jamie opened the book that Madeline had chosen. Not surprisingly, it was the one that Jamie had written for her and had finally had published. Since then, he’d been working on another story, but this time not a children’s novel. It was a story of a man and a woman and he told Claire that she might recognize a few similarities here and there.

Meanwhile, Claire spent her days at the hospital. She longed to be home and to be there for her girls, but her other passion was medicine. It was a part of her she knew she couldn’t abandon, a skill that ran through her very bones. And it was rewarding to help people and be there for them. Just as it was rewarding to come home to her children and to a husband she loved.

Life was far from perfect, but it was the life she loved.

Stepping out of the room to get herself ready for bed, Claire smiled as she saw her two girls paying close attention to every word from Jamie. He was the perfect father to two young girls. Always telling them how beautiful, kind, smart and strong they were. Claire knew that Jamie would love a son, and who knows? Maybe one day.

Stripping off her clothes, Claire grabbed one of Jamie’s old shirts and slid it on, loving the way it hung off one shoulder. As she began to wash her face and cleanse herself from the day she had, her mind drifted back to her earlier conversation with Frank.

She never thought she would be able to face him again, let alone speak to him. But it was needed to move on, something she thought she had done years ago. Frank was like a ghost, creeping up at the most unexpected times. Often, she woke from nightmares, and couldn’t fall back asleep until she checked that both her children were tucked safely in bed. Someone had tried to take what was most precious to her, and there was nothing she wouldn’t do to protect them.

Splashing warm water over her face, she hadn’t seen when Jamie had come into the bathroom and jumped when she opened her eyes.

“Och, tis just me, Sassenach,” he laughed and ran his hand over the back of her neck.

“Didn’t hear you come in,” she smiled and wiped her face on a cloth. “Did the girls get to sleep alright?”

“Aye, Mads did ask for another story, but I promised two tomorrow,” he said and picked up his toothbrush. Glancing over at his wife, he noticed she was wearing one of his shirts again. He had commented on how sexy she looked in it the first time she had thrown it on and ever since, she preferred to sleep in his clothes.

Catching him looking at her, Claire blushed and turned her body towards him. “What are you looking at? Did I not get everything off my face?” She looked back into the mirror to check.

“I was lookin’ at my beautiful wife,” Jamie said, sticking his foot out to touch her bare leg.

Making a guffawing sound, Claire rolled her eyes. “Your wife has bags under her eyes and hasn’t felt beautiful in quite some time.”

“Sassenach,” Jamie said softly and rinsed and spit before putting his toothbrush down. “Have I no’ told ye how lovely I think ye look every day since we’ve been together?”

Claire could only nod because it was true, he did tell her every day, but sometimes she didn’t feel like those words described her. After two children, her body had changed and it wasn’t what it was before. Always being on her feet at the hospital helped to keep her in shape somewhat, as did running after two kids at home. But her hair was always a mess, she didn’t get much sleep while being on call and she couldn’t even remember the last time she looked in the mirror and thought she was attractive — probably on her wedding day.

“Did ye ken the other day while we were at the store, I saw a young man starin’ at yer arse?” Jamie said as he wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her body to his. “I had half the mind to go over to him and gouge his eyes out.”

“He was probably thinking how big it looked,” Claire smirked.

“Some men like that,” he moved one hand over said arse, giving it a firm squeeze. “Ye’ve the roundest arse I’ve ever seen, Clarie, my God.”

“I’m almost twenty-nine years old and I found a grey hair the other day,” she said, moving her hand up to her scalp.

“Oh hush, mo nighean donn,” Jamie kissed her forehead. “Dinna start talkin’ like yer on yer death bed. Yer a successful doctor, wi’ two young bairns, one grey hair comes wi’ the territory.”

“But you don’t look a day over twenty,” Claire sighed, reaching up to cup his cheek.

“I’m only twenty-seven Claire,” he snorted. “What’s all this talk of our ages? Did ye find out somethin’ ye need to tell me?”

“No, no,” Claire shook her head. “I suppose I just feel a bit older than I really am. I know that you think I’m beautiful.” At that, Jamie gave another light squeeze to her bum. “And,” she laughed, “that you find me as desirable as I find you. But, sometimes I look in the mirror and I don’t see a beautiful woman.”

“Then ye dinna need to look into a mirror, mo chridhe. Ye once told me that I had a beautiful heart,” he cupped her cheek, his thumb lightly tracing her full bottom lip. “That is was kind and how ye admired my strength. Well, Sasseanch, your face is my heart, and therefore tis beautiful.”

“If you say so,” Claire said softly.

“Do ye no’ believe me? Have I ever lied to ye?” Jamie asked, his brows furrowing.

Shaking her head, Claire laid both hands on his chest. “No, that’s not what I mean. I mean — if you say it, then it’s true. You make it true.”

Leaning down, Jamie pressed his lips to hers. When she was in his arms, it was like he was holding the whole universe and he had all the power at his fingertips. Loving Claire had made Jamie a better man in every aspect.

“Can ye no’ feel what the sight of ye does to me?” He asked, pressing his hips against her. “Ye may have born two bairns, Sassenach, but they were my bairns and yer body is a miracle to me.”

Claire sighed, her eyelids fluttering as she felt his arousal pressing against her belly. Through his sweatpants, there was only a thin barrier between his hard flesh, and Claire held on tightly to him. While it was true that most days she didn’t feel pretty enough or worth taking a second look at — when she was here in Jamie’s arms, she felt like the most beautiful and sexy woman to ever exist. He ignited something inside of her, a key that only he held.

“I do feel it,” she admitted and finally looked up at him. Slowly, she moved one hand in between their bodies and cupped his length. His mouth parted and his eyes turned to dark slits. One by one, her fingers moved into the waistband of his sweats and she felt the raspy hairs as her fingers moved down.

“I meant it when I said you make it true, Jamie,” Claire said and took hold of him. “I feel almost invincible when I have you in my arms, and especially,” she twisted her hand and rubbed her thumb over the head of his cock. “When I do that.”

“A Dhia,” Jamie groaned and couldn’t help but jerk up into her hand. “I dinna understand myself sometimes,” he shook his head as he looked down at her hand moving in his sweats — long strokes and quick squeezes. “I want to put ye in my pocket like a wee kitten, and then other times I want to spread yer legs and ride ye like a rottin’ bull and have ye screamin’ my name.”

“That’s marriage for you,” Claire chuckled and pumped his length in her hand again, making sure to give just enough pressure to leave him making those little whimpering sounds she loved so much.

“Jesus, fuck, Claire,” Jamie muttered through gritted teeth. He was trying not to jerk his hips or grip her too tightly, but he was losing all of his other senses. Her hand moved over him, fingers lightly touching his scrotum and his knees buckled. “I canna take much more of yer teasing, Sassenach.”

Claire could only bite her lip, watching as her husband’s head fell backwards. With one hand she pulled his sweatpants down over his arse, and his cock and her hand were exposed to the open air. Chills raked his body, and Jamie tightened his grip on her hip before finally looking down. Running her finger down his cock, she pumped him so the head was exposed and pressed her thumb against the bit of pre-cum. Jamie was close to spending, his hip movements becoming erratic.

“I dinna want to come in yer hand, a nighean,” Jamie nearly growled and picked her up by her waist and set her down on the bathroom counter. The t-shirt she was wearing was riding up on her thighs and Jamie could just see her pussy, peeking out under the material. His mouth watered and he ran one slender hand over her thigh while gripping his cock and pumping it slowly.

“Yer so goddamn sexy, Claire,” he looked at her, back pressed against the mirror, legs parted for him and one hand trailing over her breast. “I wanted ye from the first moment I saw ye, and nothin’s changed.”

“Please,” Claire begged and leaned forward, scooting to the edge of the counter. Jamie pressed one hand against her chest before she could kiss him and put both hands on the hem of her shirt, lifting it off and over her head. Gently, he cupped her breasts, weighing them appreciatively in his hands. Her nipples perked up at his touch, wanting to be stroked and flicked. Briefly bending over to suck on them, he then moved in between her thighs.

“I want ye to watch as I take ye, mo ghràidh,” Jamie said with one hand gripping her thigh. “To know that yer mine and ye belong to me.”

A small whimper left Claire’s mouth as both his hands parted her legs. The marble was cool against her skin, and she leaned back as Jamie positioned his cock at her entrance. She watched, captivated and aroused as he pushed into her inch by inch. And when he was fully inside of her, he slid one hand around her back and pressed his lips to hers.

Since he had the leverage of standing up, Jamie began to slowly move his hips, thrusting forward and then moving in a circular motion to feel her pulse around him. Claire came to life under his hands, and he kissed down her jaw and neck, holding her up. She slipped one hand into his, intertwining their fingers.

“And you belong to me,” she breathed heavily, flexing her hips and gripped with one hand onto the back of his neck.

Their lovemaking was always a risk and promise — for he held her life in his hands when they lay together, and she held his soul.

Jamie pulled her hips flush against him, pushing even deeper and held one leg around his waist. His thrust were steady and strong, his hands sure and every touch was deliberate.

“I love ye, a nighean,” Jamie said softly, cupping her cheek.

“I love you,” she managed to speak — her voice was shaky and she felt overcome with emotion as she looked into the eyes of her whole world.

Running a hand between their bodies, his fingers slid over her lips and pressed firmly at the place of their joining. Claire cried out, her body curving up and into his. A few more thrusts and Jamie watched as her mouth formed the perfect “O” shape and her body fell back against the mirror. Jamie felt the aftershock of her walls clenching around him and came, pressing forward as she gripped her hand in his hair.

He placed one sweaty hand on the mirror, no doubt leaving a streak. His head rested against Claire’s chest, gently rising and falling.

“Get me off this damn counter,” Claire pleaded and Jamie laughed, leaning back to pick her up. Still joined, he wrapped her legs around his waist and carried her into the bedroom where he carefully laid her down.

“Let’s go to sleep, aye?” He asked as he moved his body over hers.

“To sleep? Or to bed?” Claire’s brow quirked up and she laughed, moving one leg over his hip to roll them both over until she was on top. “We’re not old yet, Fraser. We’ve life in us.”

“If ye say so, Sassenach,” Jamie grinned and pulled his wife down to him, sealing their lips in a kiss.

++++++

The next morning, as Claire was preparing breakfast, she did something she once told herself she would never do. Julietta was sitting on the floor, near her feet, playing with the soft fuzzy part on Claire’s slippers. A moment later when Claire looked down at her, she had disappeared and when she looked over near the wall, she saw her daughter reaching her little fingers towards the electrical outlet.

“No no no no!” Claire dropped her spatula and raced towards her daughter, her hand swiftly coming to smack Julietta’s bottom. The little girl’s hand fell away from the socket and she turned to look up at Claire.

Freezing, and realizing what she had just done, Claire just stared down at her daughter. Julietta’s bottom lip started to wobble and Claire sank to her knees, enveloping her in an embrace that had to be too tight.

“Oh God,” Claire mumbled. “I’m so sorry, darling. Mummy didn’t want you to hurt yourself,” she ran her hand down her daughter’s back and over her little bottom. She hadn’t smacked it too hard, but it was her first instinct — anything to get her from touching her small fingers into the outlet.

A coughing noise came from above and Claire looked up to see Jamie with his arms crossed and a smug expression plastered all over his face.

“Don’t you dare…” Claire said.

Julietta wiggled in her mother’s arms and then Claire finally released her.

“Pway,” her daughter said and walked away, as if nothing had happened.

Rising to her knees, Clarie avoided Jamie’s eyes and returned to the eggs on the stovetop. Jamie came to stand beside her, that sly grin still on his face and Claire elbowed him in the ribs.

“Did I see what I think I just did?” He asked.

“No,” she shook her head. “No, she was about to electrocute herself!”

“I recall a certain conversation a few years back about what ye would and would no’ do to our child,” he cleared his throat. “And I recall that ye took the opposite stance from me, givin’ me a swift kick to the curb.”

“Look,” Claire turned to him, finally meeting his eyes. “Perhaps when I said all those things, I didn’t really know what I was talking about.”

“And ye thought when I said spankin’ our child, ye assumed I’d beat them?” He raised his brows. “Just a wee tap I think it was.”

“Would you wipe that look off your face?” Claire huffed and bit the inside of her cheek to stop herself from laughing.

“What look? Is it the look of a man who’s wife is admitting he was right?” He slid one hand around her waist. “Cause I dinna think I can.”

“I never said you were right,” Claire said towards the eggs.

“But twas implied,” Jamie kissed her temple. “I best leave ye to the eggs, Sassenach. I need to go and check on our daughter, she may be permanently scarred for the rest of her life.”

“You’re never going to shut up about this are you?” Claire did grin now, grabbing his cheeks with one hand. “If you ever want your wife to invite you to her bed again, you’ll forget this ever happened.”

Jamie clicked his tongue and reached out to lick at her finger. “I can go w’out yer bed, Sassenach, but are ye really tellin’ me ye can go w’out this?” He asked, all while taking her hand that was on her mouth and dragging it down his incredibly lean body.

“You lie,” she chuckled. “Last month you were gone for two days meeting a new client and you told me your balls were blue the whole time.”

“Fine,” Jamie sighed, defeated. “I hereby forget that Claire Elizabeth Fraser spanked our child even though she said she wouldna ever do it and caused me, James Alexander Malcolm MacKenzie Fraser weeks of distress and heartache. Was that sufficient, m’lady?”

“It’ll do, soldier,” Claire laughed and leaned up on her toes to kiss him. “Now, can you actually go and check on Julietta? I do feel horrible.”

“Oh, I ken ye do, a nighean. I was only teasin’ ye,” he kissed her forehead before walking over to their children in the other room.

Claire had done something she told herself she never would. But she had changed, as everyone does over time. She did things she would never have done years ago, eaten foods she used to hate and even had a one night stand with a stranger — but that stranger ended up being the love of her life. So perhaps, change was a good thing. Claire told herself she would never spank her child again, but she also told herself that Jamie was right, as he often was many times — not that she would tell him that to his face.

Jamie had made an oath to Claire — to love and protect her and their children, to always be there for her no matter what. An oath is a promise, one that isn’t kept lightly. Over the last few years, Claire had made a few promises of her own. And she promised to love Jamie Fraser, the love of her life, the father of her beautiful daughters until her last dying breath.

#the oath #outlander fanfic #THE END #chapter 30 #jamie x claire #jamie fraser #claire fraser #outlander fanfiction #epilogue #or is it #lmao yes it is

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