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#like if i tried HARD enough surely i could bypass it and win

sokovianheadtilt · 1 year

Text

Tug of War (11)

Steve Rogers x black!reader

Summary: Y/N caught the attention of her boss, who’s determined to win her over

A/N: Hellooooo everyone :) again, so sorry for not updating since November, was a little lost on where I want this story to go and plus being a college student doesn’t give me enough time to write, but it’s summer, i’m BACK, and working on new chapters and plot points, love you all <33

Warning: angry reader, threats of violence

SERIES MASTERLIST

After dinner with Y/N’s mother, Steve did everything in his power to lift your spirits, took you out on dates, showered you with the love and affection you deserve, basically treating you like his queen, like he’s been doing….time a million, and Y/N could admit, it worked wonders. Her confidence was back, she felt on top of the world because she had everything she ever wanted…until now.

Steve’s been extremely busy for the last few weeks. He’d come home late from the office, missing dinner, coming in with a kiss on your cheek as he changed out of his clothes and fell into bed, letting the exhaustion from his day overtake him. You did your best to be supportive, knowing he was working extra hard to maintain the lifestyle he’d built from the ground up. Now that his efforts didn’t only affect him, but the love of his life as well? He was willing to work a few extra hours to secure deals that would pay off in the future and lead to more time with you. But Y/N was fed up. She missed him, she missed his hugs, his kisses (real ones not quick cheek kisses like you were his grandmother), the sex- god she missed the sex. Steve knew how to leave you trembling and gasping almost every night and her vibrator could never replace the real thing. Y/N knew she had to take action.

It all came to a head today. You texted Steve asking if he would like to get lunch with you so you could spend time with him and discuss a new business venture you wanted to pursue, and when he said he had a meeting during that time, you snapped. You put on your favorite dress, a pink, skin-tight, sleek dress with matching pink heels with your matching purse, making sure your hair and makeup was done to perfection before leaving to drive to the office.

Getting out of the car, you stormed inside, the click of your heels could probably be heard from the floors above you with the way you were stomping to the elevator. As she got on and pressed for the top floor, the floor you knew was for executives only, you looked up as the numbers in the elevator changed before the doors opened and you stepped out. You knew where his meeting room was and went to go inside, yet it was guarded by security who stopped you when you tried to go inside.

“Ma’am we can’t let you through here, this room is occupied” the tall burly man said to you as you scoffed

“I don’t care! I’m going inside whether you like it or not” you were getting angrier than you were before. You never got angry often but when you did…it wasn’t a pretty sight.

“Ma’am I’m going to have to ask you to leave” the guard said as he crossed his arms

You let out a humorless laugh “You think you scare me? You can make your threats all you want but I’m getting in there”

He went to grab your arm to take you out but you bypassed him as you went to open the door, storming inside the room.

“Steve Rogers!” your voice boomed

The room fell silent, filled with powerful men and women, looking bewildered at what was happening, probably judging you silently but you didn’t care, you had one target in mind and he was sitting right there at the head of the table, looking as handsome as ever. Steve’s eyes widened as he quickly stood up “Flower what are you doing here?” He saw the security guard come in to take you away but Steve held his hand out, letting him know not to do anything, god knows what he would do if he saw another man's hands on you anyway.

“You think you can blow me off for lunch like it’s nothing?! Do you not know who I am?!!” you yelled at him

“Fairy let’s take this outside” Steve tried to reason with you

“No! I haven’t had time with you in weeks and I miss you, but no, you’re working all the time while I sit in that big house by myself with a cat for company” you crossed your arms over your chest

A man sitting at the table cleared his throat as he spoke up “You couldn’t have done this another time? We’re kind of busy here, the drama can wait”

Your eyes widened at his words as you dropped your purse and went to jump over the table to attack him but Steve was quicker at grabbing you and carrying you out of the room as you yelled “This is none of your business you fuck-wit! Don’t be mad at me because I actually love my partner, you asshole!” You were thrashing in Steve’s arms as he set you down outside the room and cupped your face in your hands “Baby, baby- please calm down” he said gently

“Is work more important then me Steve? Has it come to that already? It’s only been a YEAR, didn’t think I’d lose your interest so fast” you shoved him away

“No no no, of course not flower” he reached out to take your hand “I’m so sorry I made you feel neglected, it wasn’t my intention at all. These guys are some potential partners for the firm and the more hands on deck, the less work for me in the long run. I’m doing it for us baby” he reasoned with you

“And I thank you for that, but Steve I hate how late you come home, how when I wake up you’re already gone” you started to tear up “We haven’t had dinner together in so long, no quality time” you hiccuped “I hate it” you sniffled as he pulled you into a hug and kissed the top of your head “I am so so so sorry my beautiful girl. I never want to make you feel like you aren’t worthy of my attention. I can barely breathe when we aren’t together, and I promise I’m going to do better” you looked into his eyes, seeing the regret and sadness within them as you leaned up to press a gentle kiss to his lips “I forgive you, but this better not happen again”

He nodded quickly “Never again” he leaned down to kiss you again

“Also, storming into my meeting? Kinda hot” he said with a smile as you giggled “I’m sorry about that, I went a little crazy”

“Don’t apologize my peony, you were upset” he rubbed your back “Okay, I’m going to go and finish this meeting, you want to sit in on it with me?” he asked as you nodded “Then afterwards, I’ll let someone else take care of the rest of my work and I’m all yours” you smiled softly as he led you back into the room, sticking your tongue out at the security guard as you passed by him and glaring at the man who decided to stick his nose in other people’s business.

Picking up your purse from the floor and handing it to you, Steve sat back in his seat as you sat in his lap, like a queen on her throne.

“Now, where were we?”

taglist: @ljstraightnochaser@pastelbabygirl19 @datsavageavenger

#sokovianheadtilt #tug of war #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x black!reader #black!reader #ceo!steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #y/n #black!fem!reader #steve rogers x shy!reader

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rcksmith · 3 years

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Be mine — Roman Godfrey

Requests: “Helloo, I would like to request an imagine of roman Godfrey with smut prompt 28”

“Hii, omg I lover your work!! Can you do fluff prompts 45 and 59 and smut prompts 32 whit Roman Godfrey? Thank you, love💖”

Fluff prompts:

45. “where have you been all my life?”

59. “Are you flirting with me?” “You finally noticed?”

Smut prompts:

28. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?”

32. “I’m going to show you what a real fucking is.”

A/N: I was excited about these request for Roman, I loved it. I hope you guys like.

English is not my first language, so I so sorry if have a mistake.

Requests are open. Love you ❤️

Couple: Roman Godfrey/ Fem! Reader.

Warnings: Swearing, explicit smut, NSFW, degradation, dirty talk and also fluff too.

— — — — —

The big white and airy room tried to show a soothing and safe energy, the light tones contrasted with the golden rays of the sun outside and could even try to show a lyrical vibe. Could, if not for everything else.

It was hard to pinpoint the source that messed up that whole idea of peace that the colors on the walls had, but maybe it was because Godfrey Industries was... oblique, mysterious, sinister. There was something in the air, a dark breeze that echoed all the floors of that gigantic building, bringing the feeling that something was out of place. It was, at times, disconcerting. Like looking at a perfect painting but knowing that something is out of place. Or to witness the seconds of frightening calm before a major disaster. But as the months went by, you had to get used to it and adapt to it. Your daydreams wandered far away. You wondered what you were doing there, in that country town that also had that sinister energy.

Why you left Los Angles? Okay, did you know why. After finishing college, you sent out resumes to as many companies as you could. Its from that time when you realize that adult life has knocked on the door and that the cost of living in California was too high. The plan, when you left home to pursue your dream and go to college in another state, was to get a job as soon as possible. But some things got out of your control, and when you realized it, you had graduated and you didn't have enough money to come up with second plans.

So, when the multinational Godfrey Industries called you after an interview and gave you the job, you didn't hesitate. The salary was too good for a international negotiations assistant, and after a while you could breathe easier, and be able to straighten out your financial life and have a better resume to be able to get back to a big city.

It was a good plan, a rational plan. You were proud of that. But it was logical that too much confidence was accompanied by some ruin.

And its ruin came under the name of Roman Godfrey.

Roman was swallowed all the air in any the room when he entered, as if its imposing presence subdued any environment. Everything about him exuded the same objective: to conquer, to possess, to win. He was the Trojan army. But the worst and the most dangerous was not his difficult personality, but how you felt close to him. How his presence caused side effects on you.

He was absolutely gorgeous. It should be considered illegal for someone to have that appearance, that voice, that sinisterly penetrating look. You felt that Roman Godfrey had the aura of intense and exciting music, like the song of danger.

He was the personification of sin, and you were being tested by the universe.

The trinity of what could be a gigantic disaster was completed when, a few months ago, Roman started testing you, joining the universe in what appeared to be a plan to slaughter your sanity.

It was your first meeting with the Company a few weeks after you was hired. Adam, the director of the international negotiations sector, for whom you are an assistant, asked you to bring all the documents of the process and remain in the meeting. It was about an international multi who wanted to buy some equipment from Godfrey Industries, but who were working hard to try to close deals at a lower price.

As you handed a copy of the negotiation to each sector director in that room, you felt a pair of eyes burning the back of your neck the whole time, like your shadow. The caustic sensation ruffled all the hair on the back of your neck, snaking from head to toe and made you search the environment behind the author.

That's when you finding him.

Roman had the green irises stuck to you like a tattoo on your skin. As if unraveling all your secrets, your sins, virtues and all your thoughts. It was intense, magnetic... dangerous.

You felt the white walls of that room were embraced by a black and dark shadow, and the air became thin. Then he smiled. A smug and arrogant little smile. The kind who won a battle.

It had been the beginning of a sequence of events. Roman began to request and make sure that you were present at all meetings, negotiations, cases, even when your presence added much more to your professional knowledge than to contribute to the resolution of company problems. At that time the order was still not directed at you, Adam just told you that Godfrey wanted you at meetings.

It was strange, atypical, almost surreal. You used to go into the conference room and look directly at Roman, frowning in silent questioning at him. But he never gave you an answer. He just gave that smug smile and turned his attention to the big screen in the living room.

This happened five times before Roman sent to tell you that he wanted to see you in his office.

“But why?!" You frowned at Adam.

The man looked at you for a second before shrugging.

“Your work has been impeccable, I think he just wants to give you more things to do.” Adam kept his eyes on the documents themselves.

"But you are my boss.” Sometimes you had a habit of saying what you thought without considering the consequences.

Your mother and your friends said that you had a total inability to hide what you felt, to be someone reserved or shy. You were almost always the person who said everything you felt.

Adam laughed softly, already used to your personality and turned his eyes to you.

“And he is my boss."

You restrained yourself from rolling your eyes. The truth was, you didn't want to find him. Roman puzzled you, messed with your system. And after those 5 meetings without explaining why you were there, you started to want to avoid his presence.

But apparently the universe was not on your side this time.

You got up and excused yourself, listening to your own heels echoing down the hall before entering the elevator and pressing the last button. Going to Godfrey's office.

Anxiety coursed through your veins like overwhelming electricity, making you sway on your heels and stir your fingers.

What did he want with you? Had you done something? Was he crazy?

You sucked in the air hard, shrugging your shoulders to relax when the door opened up. You walked for a while before stopping at Roman's office and knocking on the door with your finger.

“Come in." The voice made your heart skip a few beats.

You walked in, closing the door behind you and laying your eyes on the tall, slender figure who was sitting behind the table, dressed in black pieces and a small smile.

“Did you want to see me, Mr.Godfrey ?"

Maybe it was your imagination or your nervousness that was seeing things in between lines, but you could have sworn that Roman breathed harder after you said his last name.

You stopped in front of his desk, too agitated to sit on the chair.

“Yes, Darling.” He stood up, getting much bigger than you, even though your feet were in a 10 cm heel.

Roman fished a file on the table itself, bypassing the table and coming menacingly close to you. He stood in front of you again, his hip against the table and leaning there, holding out the file for you. You took seconds longer than you would like to pick up the papers, Roman's left leg was dangerously close to yours, the knee almost brushing your thigh covered by the black skirt.

“I need it ready by night."

That's when you came out of the trance, picking up the folder and staring at the amount of stuff there. It was a process about an agreement with a company in Asia, and it was so bureaucratic that it would take up your entire time. And you already had a million things for do.

“But...” You were about to start talking, but Roman moved away from the edge of the table, his chest hovering over yours.

You have never felt so small, so fragile and so vulnerable in your life. You had to lift your chin to face him straight.

“You are going to be a good girl and bring me this tonight.” It was not a request. “You will, right?”

Your common sense or decorum had gone somewhere. Maybe was lost in your own stupidity. The oxygen evaporated from your lungs. And before you could think of something diplomatic and good to say. Because you were not dumb. You heard yourself say:

“Yes, Mr. Godfrey.”

Fucking hell!

“Great.” He gave you a rewarding smile.

From that moment on events like this became routine. In fact, you tried to mask that you liked it, that it wasn't extremely unprofessional, that he was not only your boss, but also the owner of the entire company. Over time you learned to deal with him too, Roman was never brazen or touched you, he would drop some ‘Dear’ or ‘Pretty’ over and over here for you, but, truth be told, you didn’t get uncomfortable.

Perhaps it was your feminine vanity. You didn't want to be selfish, but having a man like Roman Godfrey praise you did wonders for your feminine vanity. You felt absurdly beautiful. He made you feel like the personification of the Female Fatal, and you liked that. So you would roll your eyes at him and give him some jokes smiles in his direction whenever these things happened.

You did not deny it, but you also do not return any praise.

Over the months you had practically become more of an assistant to Roman than to Adam. He kept you getting bogged down with things to do and telling Adam to pass on your old duties to any other goddamn person.

“They accept to close if they have had 30% of the profits.” You put your cell phone down to talk to Roman, who had his hip against the desk work and an open file in his hands.

“They must be stupid” he rolled his eyes “10% and I will still be being generous.”

You went back to your call, your eyes fixed on the top view of the city as you settled the deal.

“I can get them to close by 15% if we send the equipment by tomorrow.” You said to Roman again, plugging the cell phone microphone with your other hand “But it has to be send until the morning. Not next.”

Roman smiled broadly and satisfied, nodding his head in ‘Yes’ as you turned your attention to the city view and finished the negotiation. You were getting the details right when you felt a presence behind you, the heat radiating for your back and making you lose your breath for a second. You swallowed and tried to ignore something vibrating in your core, disconnecting the call as soon as you closed the deal.

“What would I do without you?” Roman's voice blew at the top of your ear, his ghostly touch fanning your skin.

You laughed to try to hide how much your core pulsed, turning around enough to face his completely.

"I don't know, you would have already lost four contracts.” You tried to joke, but he was absurdly close.

The scent of a man and an expensive cologne swallowed you like a wave and dragged you into the sea, drowning you. The emerald green eyes were fixed on you, as if they swallowed you.

“You could work for me.” Godfrey let go, taking another step closer to you.

Instinctively, you took a step back, your back finding the cold glass behind you and trapping you between the cold sensation and the absurd warmth of the man.

"I already work for you.” You said it as if it were obvious, letting out a nervous laugh and trying to clean up how much your uterus vibrated now.

“No, you work more with Adam.” He rolled his eyes, his hand now resting on your hip, rising to your waist like a snake “I speak of you being my assistant, being here when I arrive, spending the all days with me.”

Your heart screamed, your pussy throbbed so hard that if Roman hadn't paid attention to you, you would have bitten your lip.

“Are you flirting with me?”

"You finally noticed?"

There was no way to deny to yourself that you had already reached your share of perverted dreams with Roman Godfrey. He was like an addiction! It was unbearable how present he was always in your head, playing with your sanity, making you think of how those absurdly long fingers would fuck you so well, how those impeccable clothes hid a maddening body.

And that was exactly why you couldn't be him assistant.

If it was already overwhelmingly difficult to occasionally remain in him presence without diverting your thoughts, every day would be impossible. All the time. You would end up having to resign your job after, because any involvement between you would not result in a happy ending. Aside from being extremely unethical, it would end up destroying your heart, and God, you needed the job!

"M-Mr Godfrey." You tried to speak, touching his chest with the palm of your hand with the intention of gently pushing him away.

But the shot backfired. He was cold. Absurdly cold. Cold that makes you want to warm up, an addictive, that intoxicates you. Suddenly, you are already wondering if other parts of it would be cold too.

Would the kiss contain the beauty and temperature of the snow? When Roman entered you, would he be consumed by the heat of your needy walls? He Would it stick to you like a private sun?

“Pretty.” Godfrey sighed against your cheek, dangerously lowering his lips in your direction. “Why not stay with me? Where can I fuck you every day? ”

This time you moaned, a low moan that gave up all of your game. It lit a dangerous, vital fire in Roman's eyes, and him hand, which once touched you softly, now snaked into your waist, pulling you close.

“Do you like to hear that? That I want to fuck you until you scream?” You closed your fingers on him black dress shirt, closing your lip between your teeth to contain a groan.

Roman's mouth went to your neck, pouring wet, surprisingly hot kisses onto your skin.

"Would you like to know that I have imagined fucking you hard for a long time?” His hands went to the hem of your skirt. “That I want to tag you with my cum until you're just mine?"

“Mr.Go-Godfrey!” You moaned loudly, wrapping your arms around his neck and letting your head go back and lean against the glass wall.

“Tell me, Pretty.” He lifted his lips to hover over yours “Tell me you want this as much as I do.”

You frantically ascended your head, letting a 'Yes' leave with a low sob.

Thereafter Roman wasted no time. He pulled you onto his lap by your thighs, placing you under his desk and throwing all objects on the table with one arm. He kissed you. Furiously. He kissed you as if you were his property, as if you were the answer to all his prayers, his divinity. Your mouth opened to get air and Roman took the opportunity to invade with his tongue, hunting you.

You groaned, or he, or both.

"I'm going to show you what a real fucking is." Roman snarled against your mouth, not considering any consequences before popping all the buttons on your shirt with a two-handed tug, making you gasp.

That seemed to bring you back to Earth.

You pulled your chest away from him, and Roman looked up at you with a questioning expression.

“Ro-Roman, this is wrong.” you said.

“You have no idea how much I don’t give a fuck.” He leaned over to kiss you again, extremely excited by the sight of you in a lacy bra, but you averted your face by placing your hands on him chest.

You said. “I'm going to have to resign this job later if I do it, and I need the job.”

Romam snorted, straightening up again.

“Who says you need to resign? Did you forget that I am the owner of this crap?” He brought his lips to your neck once more, and you sighed softly “Be mine. Be mine."

“I don’t know.”

Romam held your face in his hands, in a gentle touch, which clashed absurdly with the lush fire in his eyes.

“I don't want to fuck you because you work here, but because I think you're fucking beautiful.” He said “Be mine, and if you don't want anything to do with me afterwards, that's okay, let's keep working normally.” Roman moved closer, his voice hitting your mouth “Let me fuck this hot pussy, I'm sure you'll want more later. And I will give you everything you want.”

So you gave in. You kissed him fiercely, spreading your legs wider and settling them between them, letting the skirt roll to pile on your hips and exposing lace panties. Roman reaching down to your back and removing your bra, dropping your mouth over your left breast when it was exposed.

You moaned loudly, throwing your head back, curling your fingers in his hair and sighing when Godfrey moved his fingers down the middle of your legs. You whimpered, rummaging around in his hand for some friction, needy and needy.

Roman laughed arrogantly against your breast: “Such a needy little thing, aren't you?” He took a bite out of your left beak as he walked away to remove his belt.

You groaned, your eyes on fire, your body hot and needy. And that's when Roman looked at you. A hot fucking woman half naked at his table, so beautiful and perfect that it was almost a sin. He wanted to be able to record that scene forever. You were perfect. He thought you were extraordinarily perfect.

Then he rushed ferociously at you again, his hands wrapped around your hot body as he moaned on your lips: "Where have you been all my life?"

You gasped, finishing the job of his belt and pants, fighting a battle with his tongue.

“Waiting for this moment.” You provoked it with a sensual chuckle, nibbling on his lower lip.

Roman shared your sly smile, tearing at your panties and holding his own dick in your direction. You moaned louder this time, in need, lowering your hands to his hips and rolling around his waist, trying to get closer.

Roman laughed, sinking his mouth into yours and also plunging his dick into yours smooth folds.

You screamed out loud, clasping your body to his while Roman put an arm around your waist, gluing your body to his and hitting the stick at the end of the well, drawing out a loud groan from both of you. The environment was filled with moaning and pornographic sounds, the table rattling beneath you as the things that were left on top now fell completely. You wrapped your arms around his neck, clenching your nails at the back of your neck as you wrapped your legs around Roman's hips, pulling him further into you and swallowing him completely.

“Holy fuck!” He snarled, lowering his mouth to meet your neck and shoulder, closing his teeth there as he demanded more force in his movements.

Godfrey beat without mercy, without pause, conquering and proclaiming his every piece of your body as his own. You could no longer control your moans, all the sensations exploded inside you like nuclear bombs and pleasure and pain curved all your lines of reasoning. You laid your back on the table, your breasts jumping with the speed and strength of him movements, while Roman clasped his hands on your waist and set a brighter pace as he pulled you onto his dick and propelled your hips at you.

“So fuck hot slut!” He growled, never stopping the pace.

You shouted something that looked like him name, and threw your head back when the orgasm invaded your system, shaking your legs and pulling him deeper. Roman moaned loudly, squeezing your flesh so tightly that it would leave marks tomorrow, while he cum inside you, spilling all the hot liquid on your barriers.

You were sweaty and panting, but Roman didn't give you a second to breathe and process the situation until he leaned over to you, still inside your core, and kissed your right breast, dropping one:

“Dinner at my place tomorrow?”

You laughed, still very airy, and agreed, overcome by tiredness.

“Okay, Godfrey.” Roman gave you another lunge of teasing, making your laugh mix with a groan.

#roman godfrey #roman godfrey x reader #Roman Godfrey x you #bill skarsgard #bill skarsgård x reader #Roman Godfrey x y/n #hemlock grove #Hemlock Grove x reader #bill skarsgård imagine #roman godfrey imagine #Roman Godfrey icons #smut #Hemlock Grove smut #willard russell

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samuel-de-champagne-problems · 3 years

Text

I’ll Take X-pecting for 200, Alex

Summary: Dr. Spencer Reid plays a trivia game at the request of his wife, Y/N, but he’s in for more than some heaving hitting questions.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Wife Reader

Word Count: 1.5k

Author’s Note: I really don’t think that this summary does this justice

I’ll Take X-pecting for 200, Alex

Shuffling the cards with a shake in her hand, Y/N tells herself to just breathe. This is something that Spencer and her have been looking forward to, dreamed about, and constantly discussed. Regardless of how much she knows Spencer loves her, there’s a lingering seed of doubt that only grows with the sound of Spencer walking into their house.

“Y/N!, I’m home, darlin’,” Spencer calls from the hallway, dropping the “g” because he knows that Y/N finds it endearing.

“Baby,” Y/N yells from the table. “I’m in the dining room. I made us a trivia game! Come play with me, I need your brains,” she finishes, smiling at her husband, who has been away for nearly two weeks.

“You know do I love trivia, Y/N,” Spencer says. He takes a seat next to his wife, but before he can kiss her, she pushes him out of his chair and motions for him to take the seat opposite of her.

“Before we start, how was the case? Everyone make it home in one piece?” Y/N asks concerned over the wellbeing of some of her closest friends.

“Everyone’s fine, Y/N. The unsub ended up being a team. Two women hellbent on getting revenge for their children’s murders. One of them got away,” Spencer explains, solemnly.

“Oof,” Y/N says, letting out a sigh. “It’s at times like these that I’m glad I don’t have your job. I’m kinda glad she got away, between you and me.”

“It’s hard, sometimes we don’t really know who we’re bringing justice too. But, I’d do anything to protect my future children, and you. Anything I needed to do to keep you safe,” Spencer tells her, leaning across the table and kissing Y/N’s hand. She gives him a sheepish smile, but inside her mind is eager to get this trivia game started.

“You’re a charmer, Dr. Reid,” Y/N flirts.

“Just for you, Y/N. Now you mentioned something about trivia,” Spencer says, clapping his hands together excitedly.

“I just thought you’d like to rest your brain after a case but shifting though all those facts you got stored up there. And I always said you should try out for Jeopardy,” Y/N says as she collects the cards with the clues.

She spreads out the categories, Child Psychology, Children’s Books, Labor & Delivery, Nursery Rhymes, X-Epecting, on the table. They were all handwritten on different colorful pieces of cardstock and decorated with baby animals and block letters. Y/N read the categories aloud to her husband, allowing herself to steal a glance at his face while he concentrated on the categories, as if he already could answer the questions.

“All right, Spencer, you pick first,” Y/N says, in her best Alex Trebek impression.

“I’ll take Child Psychology for $200,” Spencer chooses, looking up to smile at Y/N.

“This is the substitute mother that baby monkeys formed an attachment to in Harlow’s psychological experiment,” Y/N asks.

“Terry-Cloth,” Spencer interjects.

“Not uh, Spence, you need to answer correctly,” Y/N teases. She looks up at him expectantly to choose the next clue. He rolls his eyes at her, but secretly he enjoys the playful banter they still share even after all these years.

“Um, Children’s Books $200,”

“This is the story of the clever spider that can weave words in her web,”

“What is Charlotte’s Web?”

“Correct, pick again please,” Y/N says, as she tries to maintain a stoic composure.

“This is the average of days that newborns keep up their sleepless parents,” Y/N asks, sure that this question would stump her genius husband. But to no avail, Spencer answers the question correctly.

“Okay! Next time try-outs are around, I’m forcing you to take the test,” Y/N says running over to kiss Spencer on the cheek.

“You know judges are supposed to remain impartial, Y/N” Spencer tells her, putting his arm around her waist as if he’s signally her to sit in his lap.

“I can’t help it, how about you win kisses every time you get a question right, Spence,” Y/N proposes.

“I guess it’s worth more than fake money,” Spencer teases.

“You offend me, baby!” Y/N pretends to be hurt by Spencer’s words, but urges him to continue the game.

“You only got a couple more left, Spence,”

“Okay, how about X-Expecting for $200,” Spencer chooses.

“This chromosome is linked to the baby’s mother,” Y/N quizzes, finding it difficult to keep her smiles and secrets at bay when Spencer’s arm tugs around her waist tightly and his fingers draw patterns under her shirt.

“What is X-Chromosome,” Spencer answers before Y/N can even finish the clue.

“You know that you’re supposed to wait until the clue is read, Spence. I should redact kisses,” Y/N fake threats.

“No! Y/N I’ll die without your kisses, please!” Spencer cries out in pretend disain. Much to his amusement his goofy behavior leads Y/N to plant small pecks on his forehead.

“There, that should hold you over,”

“I doubt it, Y/N. I miss you already,” Spencer mutters into her shoulder, as if he’s trying to get closer to his wife more than he could already be with her sitting on his lap.

“Two more clues till Final Jeopardy,” Y/N announces, ignoring the fact that she’s bypassing the rest of the clues and totally disregarding Double Jeopardy.

“Hmm, let’s go to Nursery Rhymes for kissing for the rest of my life,” Spencer picks, peppering Y/N’s shoulder with kisses.

“Huh! Look at that, Spencer, you got the Daily Double, so whatcha going to wager?” Y/N asks, knowing she’s pulling this Daily Double straight out of the air, but Spencer’s affection for only one lifetime is not nearly enough for her.

“I’ll make a true Daily Double, darling. That means double the amount of kisses,” Spencer tells her, ticking the sides of Y/N waist.

“Here’s your clue, Jack is urged to be nimble & quick, helping him do this,” Y/N reads from the card.

“What is to jump over the candlestick?” Spencer guesses, closing his eyes to be assaulted by Y/N’s eager lips.

“Yay! Double kisses!” Y/N yells happily as she pecks Spencer’s eyelids and nose, causing him to laugh at her light affection.

“Next question, it’s the last one so you don’t get a choice, but I have so much confidence in you, my genius husband. These are the names of the 3 stages of labor?” Y/N questions, looking over her shoulder to get a glimpse of Spencer’s mind at work.

“What are dilation, expulsion, and afterbirth,” Spencer answers, once again perfectly.

“Okay, Dr. Reid you’ve accumulated a total of double kisses for the rest of our lives. Your Final Jeopardy category is, Ready For It…” Y/N announces.

“Last one,” Spencer says, and Y/N wonders if Spencer’s figured it out by now. She hands Spencer the small cardboard box. He looks at it curiously and Y/N can feel her heart in her stomach. He must know by now, she thinks. He’s brilliant, but sometimes he can be a little clueless when it comes to things like that. Y/N thinks back to how they danced around each other for years before Derek practically had to force them out on a date. He must know.

“You’re clue is inside the box, Spence,” Y/N tells him, her voice shaky and unsure.

Spencer carefully opens the cardboard box and reaches in to pull out the small pregnancy test that lay hidden inside. He looks it over, reading the test twice, three times, maybe even four times. He honestly can’t remember taking longer to read something. Spencer looks up at a terrified Y/N.

“You’re pregnant? We’re going to have a baby?” Spencer asks, desperately wanting to believe what he holds in his hand.

“You’re gonna be a daddy, Spence,” Y/N tells him, her smile struggling to conceal itself in between the bouts of happiness and joy that courses through her veins.

“A baby! Oh Y/N. A baby!” Spencer shouts rushing over to where his wife stands in between the entrance from their kitchen to their dining room.

“You’re happy, right Spence. You want this with me-” Y/N starts, a sudden rush of fear lodging itself in her heart.

“Of course I’m happy, Y/N. I’m so happy to be a dad. You’re going to be a mom! You’ll be the best mom, Y/N. I love you, Y/N,” Spencer says, crouching down to rub his hands on Y/N’s belly.

“Hi sweet baby,” Y/N says softly, looking down at her belly and covering her hand over Spencer’s. “I want you to meet your daddy. He’s going to take care of you so well, he might talk a lot but you get used to it”

“Hey, baby. It’s your dad,” Spencer murmurs quietly into Y/N’s belly. “I’m so glad that mommy told me about you. You gotta do some growing in there before you can meet us, but we love you so much, baby,”

“I really love you so much Y/N,” Spencer says as he sits up to kiss his wife.

All his life Spencer’s loved science. He loves discovering the undiscovered. Memorizing all those theories and facts and methods could never prepare him for the awe that sat before him. He realizes that he’s looked at science all wrong. There's a beauty in science- a natural, unadulterated beauty that’s so rare to find. But he’s found it and he’s never letting go.

Thank You for Reading!

Taglist: @calm-and-doctor

If anyone wants to be tagged in new posts, feel free to comment and I’ll be thrilled to tag you <3

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x reader fluff #spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #dr spencer reid x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fics #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x you #spencer reid deserved a happy ending

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celtics534 · 3 years

Text

Distraction

A little belated birthday gift for the one and only @velvethopewrites! I hope you like this little flirty hinny ;)

Read on: FF.net or AO3

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Harry hadn’t been expecting it. He had just staring off into space, his mind not at all focused on the open herbology book propped in front of him. Instead, his mind had focused on creating a lovely scenario where he and his girlfriend were flying together. His hands tightly holding her hips as his mouth warmed her neck...

So when the smooth cloth landed on his head and his vision became distorted by nearly clear fabric, he wasn’t able to contain his surprise. A hand came over his mouth, stifling his cry as warm lips pressed near his right ear.

“So much for constant vigilance, huh, Potter?”

He twisted in his chair to see a smirking Ginny. She was pressed right against his back, her head bowed as she moved in for another kiss, this time to his lips.

“What are you doing here?” Harry asked. She was supposed to be in the library until dinner, or at least according to Hermione’s strict OWL’s schedule.

“Well now, is that any way to speak to your girlfriend?” Ginny shook her head in disappointment though the glint in her eyes took away any bite from her words. “Together only a few weeks and the romance has already died, huh? I mean, if you don’t want me here I can just —”

Harry cut her off with a quick and hard kiss. He rose from his chair, not allowing his lips to leave her skin as he moved to embrace her. In complete honesty, Harry was shocked by his own prowess. Normally when he tried to make any sort of smooth move it blew up in his face, but not this time, if Ginny’s elated sigh was anything to go on.

He trailed his lips along her jaw as he made his way to that spot on her neck that always made her gasp in the best way. His hands moved down her sides to rest on her hips, thumbs caressing a small spot where her shirt rode up to expose bare skin. When her hands threaded through his hair, tugging him closer, Harry lost any ability to think of anything past her.

The fact that they were in the middle of the common room, that if anyone walked too close to the table they’d bump into two invisible people, was lost to Harry. All that mattered was the way Ginny’s petite form pressed into his. Before he knew what was happening, Harry’s back was against the nearby wall and Ginny’s lips were at his neck. Harry couldn’t contain a groan as she nipped at a vein throbbing in his neck.

“Shhh,” Ginny murmured into his skin, as she soothed the mark she no doubt left. “Quiet, dear.”

Easy for her to say as she drove him completely mad. He bit his tongue to hold back another groan as her lips trailed a hot line of kisses back up towards his jaw. His head fell back against the wall in pleasure as she teased a spot just under his chin.

“Hey, Demelza.” Harry heard Ron’s voice as if he spoke from the opposite end of a long tunnel. “You seen Harry?”

Both Ginny and Harry froze; any movement would alert Ron of their location. Ginny’s mouth was still pressed against his skin as they stood motionless, both breathing heavily as they heard Demelza direct Ron in the direction of their apparently deserted table.

Harry looked down at Ginny, her annoyed expression becoming more like molton flame as they locked gazes. She rose to her toes, bringing her lips right next to his ear. “If you keep quiet, we can slip out and I’ll find us a place where this cloak won’t be necessary to keep things private.”

When she nipped at his earlobe, Harry nearly moaned loudly. How could she make him forget the rest of the world? Literally, her brother was mere meters from them, but when she was touching him like this... When he was with her all that seemed to matter was her… holding her hand, listening to her stories and desires, and of course the feeling of her lips on his… or like at that moment how they felt trailing down his jawline.

“Gin.” Harry’s whisper was rough like sandpaper. “You need to stop.”

Ginny paused her ministrations for just a moment, at least long enough to ask, “Do you really want me to stop?” Her smirk was all too knowing and if Harry was honest, way too hot.

“Want and need are very different,” Harry muttered, and Ginny stifled a giggle by pressing her face to his neck. Taking a momentary hiatus from her assault on his sense, Harry placed his arms around her waist and started guiding them across the common room.

It was dicey work, dodging their fellow Gryffindors who had taken refuge from the late afternoon rain in the common room. Harry and Ginny had to work in sync in order to keep their progress silent. If the situation weren’t so tense, Harry might have focused more on how well Ginny’s fit form pressed perfectly against him; it was probably better that he couldn’t focus on that. They sidestepped multiple people, retreating backward once to avoid bumping into Dennis Creevey and maneuvering themselves against a back wall to bypass Ron. Harry didn’t breathe until they reached the portrait hole (which luckily had just opened to let in a few first years).

Once out of the common room, they sped down the corridor, not taking the cloak off until they reached a short hall on the sixth floor. Harry ripped the invisibility cloak off, mussing both their heads.

“That was close.” Harry ran a hand through his hair, hoping to make it a little better. “Imagine if Ron had caught us.”

Ginny rolled her eyes as she tamed her own messy locks. “It would do the prat some good to be dished some of his own medicine, after the way he thrashed around with Lav-Lav.”

Harry only just managed to contain a snort. “And you think the best revenge is watching his sister and best mate snog?”

She winked at him. “Only one way to find out, yeah?”

This time there was no containing his amusement. His laughter rang out loud in the silent corridor. “Maybe next time we’ll test your theory.”

Ginny smirked at him. “I’ll hold you to that.”

Harry shook his head, a wide smile spreading from ear to ear. Merlin, he couldn’t get over how much he enjoyed being with her. The desire to touch her nearly became overwhelming. The only hold-up was the cloak bunched in his left hand. He started to fold it when a sudden thought occurred to him.

“Hey, how did you even get this?” He held up the now pocket-sized cloth before tucking it into his back pocket. “I keep it on me at all times.”

Ginny gave him a sly look, her fingers lacing with his as she started to pull him back down the corridor. “Yeah and that wasn’t the only thing on you earlier while we had lunch by the lake.”

Harry felt his face heat as the memories of their lunch came to the forethought of his mind. Eating had been the last of their priority. He cleared his throat. “Oh.”

Her cheeky grin widened. “Oh yeah. Turns out you’re an easy target for pickpockets.”

“Only when distracted by a certain red-head,” Harry defended.

Ginny moved so she was in front of him, walking backward down the hall. Her teasing smirk made his heart pound rapidly against his ribs. “Are you saying I’m a distraction, Potter?”

“Oh for sure,” Harry admonished, his face pulled into a serious expression.

Ginny’s jaw dropped in fake horror. “How dare you. I think really you’re the distraction, because how am I supposed to focus on my OWL when you’re there looking oh so snoggable and —”

Before Ginny could win, Harry took charge, pulling them to a stop in front of a small supply closet. He tugged open the door and dragged Ginny behind him into the tiny space. The moment the door shut behind them, Harry had her back against the wall and silenced her cheek with his lips.

“No cloak necessary in here,” Harry murmured as his fingers moved up into her long hair, threading through it.

“As promised.” Ginny nuzzled his jaw. Her fake irritation was completely gone as she smiled against his skin. “How about I let you distract me for a while while we make the most of our spacious privacy, yeah?”

Harry nipped at the pulse point in her neck. “I’ll try to be the best distraction you’ve ever had.”

#hinny #Harry Potter #Harry and Ginny #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fan fiction #hinny fanfic #hinny fic

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enjeolmii · 3 years

Text

coffee - s.jy

genre: mostly angst, a little fluff towards the end

word count: 1.7k

warnings: overdose on caffeine, passing out, i think that’s all :))

"Y/n, you should stop drinking coffee. You have to watch out for yourself, too," Jake says slowly, sitting his hand on your shoulder with the other one on the heavy cup you are holding. "Four is enough."

Your eyes shift to his expression, one that conveyed clear emotions of concern. This was supposed to be your fifth cup of the day.

Studying for the exams has never been so stressful. The amount of pressure dangling on your shoulders is much unbearable than how you expected it to be. Having parents who never supported your dream certainly took a toll on you, and living with a flawless sister all your life was never any help for your self-esteem. Being the low-grade sister between you two gave you comparisons aplenty. Everywhere you look, no matter where you go, you always find taunts and mockery preying on you. All your life, you got discredited by most of your relatives in light of your sister.

And you want to prove them wrong.

Getting higher grades is what it is. All she's ever good at is cheating off of her friends' answer sheets. It's a secret she threatened you to keep. Ever since she saw you and Jake hanging out alone in the swimming room, a picture she'd taken is all it would take for your parents to wash their hands of you.

And then, there's also getting the favor of all your family. She's prettier, sweeter, hard-working, and smarter. Everyone is biased on her nonexistent efforts, yet you - who has tried everything she can do to show her utmost best to be acknowledged by the people around her - were forsaken and left overlooked.

But it wasn't until Jake happened.

Only he saw the struggles you faced and outweighed. He conceded how far down the road you'd made it yourself and never forgot to make you feel worthy of his praises. He is the only one who understood the motive behind your desperation, and he is the only one who supported your dream.

So you wanted to make him proud. This exam will serve as the last movement to get into the performing arts school you long sought to join. To lose this opportunity means losing all you endear, and you wouldn't be sure how well you will hold up if you let this chance slip away.

That is all you can say for five cups of coffee.

"As much as I would love to stop, I'm not yet done studying. I need to ace this test." You peel his grip off of your cup, squeezing it as you offer a hesitant smile of reassurance, and he lets out a sigh.

"You aced all your activities and went home bringing the highest grades in your class," His palms find purchase on your shoulders. "You are doing so well now. Why do you put so much pressure on yourself?" A short silence follows your sigh.

"Jake, I have only been compared to my sister all my life. This is the only time I can prove them wrong. I want to feel incomparable, too. I want them to know that I am not a punching bag that they can just play around with," You clarify through clenched teeth, a recollection of all the memories flashing past your eyes. "You know that better than anyone."

Your boyfriend couldn't help but feel bad for you. He understood. All those times you leaned on him when you felt like giving up, every moment you called him and texted him asking for motivation, he knows how much you went through, and it casts him down that you never acknowledged how much progress and improvement you have shown.

You became more assertive and bolder, and he is happy that you are finally standing up for yourself. However, he couldn't learn to accept seeing you lose long hours of sleep over studying. For days, you ran on caffeine to help you stay awake and scan through your textbooks as long as you were satisfied. You pushed yourself to the limits, bypassing the pleasure of taking a rest and instead etching all significant terms on the topic of your exam in your mind. You disregarded the accomplishments you made for yourself and went on thinking that you never achieved enough to get a compliment from your loved ones, which is what Jake could not understand.

"Yes, I know that. But drinking more coffee isn't going to help you, is it?" He signifies, and you let a dry laugh through your nose.

"Give me one reason caffeine doesn't help." You smirk at him. Sure, your method is trash, and everything about it is not entirely definitive. But, can you really do anything about it? No, well, not that you know of. Your sister is studying in the same field, and it is only a matter of skill to win against her. If you gain a point or two higher, it is more than enough to crush her pride and bring yours up. The hidden thirst you have for acceptance is slowly showing, and you all but feel determined to see how far you can take it to get the better of her.

"Too much of it doesn't bring you to the top. It brings you to a hospital bed."

Your smile vanishes at his answer. What he said is true, but to hear an accurate response to your insincere quest only irritates you. You set the mug down on the countertop before crossing your arms, feeling the weight of his hands on your shoulders disappear, and you poke your tongue to the side of your cheek. "So what do you want me to do?" You assert, voice laced with irritation and disinterest.

"Take a break. Continue studying when your mind's not exhausted."

"My mind is not exhausted."

"Babe, you've been in front of your books since early sunrise. It's already two in the morning." He protests, and you look at him with a tinge of bitterness.

He shoots you worried gazes as his hands travel to yours, squeezing and swaying them side to side, and you sigh. "I don't care what time it is. I can take a rest tomorrow after the exam." You retract his grip from yours, taking the coffee cup back in your hands before stepping back into your room. "I need to study."

"Y/n... Please!" Jake follows close behind you, continuously begging. Suddenly, your head becomes heavy. Pain strikes your upper nape every time he calls for your name, ears abruptly ringing at the volume he whines. Black spots appear in your vision, along with the feeling of getting lightheaded. Your eyes shut tight in discomfort. As though your head will fall off the moment you move it around, you lose all senses, the sound of him calling you blurring away.

One moment, you groan with a hand rubbing slow circles at your temple. And another moment, the shattering sound of your mug against the floor reaches your ears, legs giving out as you feel your boyfriend's arms supporting your fall.

Panic replaces the distress in Jake's expression. Frantically, he lightly shakes your body in an attempt to wake you up, and when all taps and raps decline, he locks his arms around your arms and knees, hastily lifting you towards your bedroom.

Through the piles of answer sheets sprawled on the floor, he tiptoes his way to gently lay you on your bed, snatching the pillows under your head to pile them beneath your feet.

A heavier sigh escapes. He moves to sit by your side against the headboard, looking down at your vulnerable form as he sweeps strands of hair away from your face.

"You're so stubborn, you know that?" He utters through whispers. "You just never learn to give up, even when you know it's going to be hard on you."

Running his fingers gently through your hair, he frowns. He admires it of you - how you always manage to get what you want.

It's how he fell in love with you. It's how you caught his heart. The confidence that inclined his interest when you represented the class's agitated thoughts towards your unqualified professor, not a single fear of the consequences ahead.

Then, having made known that you were never able to use that confidence in front of your family hit a soft spot in his heart. So he wanted to help you get the recognition you desired, stayed with you in your highest and lowest, up until now.

"Why can't you see the significance behind everything you have outdone? You've fulfilled enough to show your family that you are incomparable, yet you're never satisfied with yourself," The air grows silent. "I guess you want to hear it directly from them. Is that how you're going to be? Thinking of yourself the way others think of you... Do you know why I love you? Because you are a kind, persevering, and confident person. I didn't love you because you are smarter than your sister. Hearing confirmation from others isn't everything, love, there are still other people who think you are flawless."

A few more minutes of stroking your head and one good look at your subtle breathing are all it takes for Jake to get up from the bed before bitterly watching the spilled coffee wither onto the corridor floor across the open door. "Now, look at the mess I'll have to clean," He stressfully stretches his neck, eyes closed. Just as he takes a step away to tidy up the mess, a hand reaches to grab his arm.

"I'm sorry," You mumble, eyes still closed. "I was getting too competitive I didn't realize you were here for me. I didn't mean to get mad at you," You tug at him. "Stay here, I'll clean that later when we wake up. For now, let's go to sleep." You make space for him on your bed, a small smile pulling at his lips as he gladly lays down beside you, setting his arm under your head while you wrap an arm around his body. "Thank you, love."

Jake looks at you, smile growing wider before placing a long kiss on your forehead. "I'll always love you no matter what."

You mirror his expression, snuggling closer to him as you say, "I love you, too."

a/n: i saw that there are lots of you who are preparing for exams right now... if you are one of them, then thank you for reading this and procrastinating a lil bit :D i wish you all the best!! drink your water and stay healthy always!!! 💖🥰

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writingsbychlo · 3 years

Text

smoke and fire (03)

word count; 10,638

summary; you and thomas almost find some common ground, but clinging to petty hatred might ruin it all.

notes; making some progress, and I know y’all are going to love the tension building.

warnings; burnings buildings, minor burns, reference to injury, reference to explosions.

Humming along to the tune playing from your phone, it was plugged into the speaker atop the counter, the lowest volume you could get it as you tried to keep the volume down. You never had been one to sleep while at the Firehouse, no matter how late at night your shifts were, and while this was your team’s two weeks of night shift rotations, you’d adapted to it easily.

Maybe you’d been forced to. Maybe you’d force yourself to. You weren’t exactly comfortable with the team yet, and something about going to sleep surrounded by people you didn’t know felt uncomfortable to you. You trusted them with your life, your job required that you did, but you would only get restless sleep anyway.

Cooking, however, was something you were comfortable with. Cooking at night while the rest were asleep, the clock barely tickling past 5AM as they all slept until called to duty gave you free time to be with your own thoughts.

The smell of frying bacon was filling the room, lyrics falling quietly from your lips as your hips swung, and you heard the first of your colleagues begin to shuffle into the room. You turned to look over your shoulder, Minho being the first to wake, and you’d learned recently that he was always the first to wake. He was an early bird, someone who normally went for a jog before coming on his shifts, and he groaned, scratching at his stomach while the other arm stretched over his head, trying to wake himself up a little more.

“Smells like bacon. Did you make enough for two?”

“I made enough for about twenty.” You teased, hearing his sleepy laugh, and he came to hop up onto the island counter behind you, bypassing the chairs as he took a seat on the higher surface instead, and he rubbed at his eyes.

“You cooked for us?”

“I cooked for me, and figured I might as well make sure you all get a healthy breakfast in, too. Can’t have you slacking on the job because all you ate for breakfast was three candy bars and a skittle, can I?” You grabbed for a plate, a stack that you’d placed beside yourself, the first one being dished up to your friend. A couple of pancakes from the hot plates, sausages, bacon, eggs, and a pot of coffee, and you dished it up, sliding it towards a seat as he fetched a set of knives and forks for you both, groaning loudly at the sight of food.

“This looks amazing.”

He took a seat on the stool this time, poking at it all in the lower light as he chopped up his food, folding a piece of bacon inside a pancake, and lifting the bundle to his mouth. Serving yourself up and covering the rest, you leaned against the counter in front of him, beginning to chop at your food. As he chewed the mouthful longer, he tipped his head back, a louder and longer groan falling from his lips as he showed his appreciation for the meal, and you covered your snicker with your food, chewing a mouthful and shaking your head fondly.

“Who’s folding porn in here? It better not be Minho, again.”

“Again?” You almost choked on your food as Winston came wandering in, your brow raising as you turned to your colleague, and he sighed dramatically.

“They were filming a tour video for the Firehouse for a thing online, I don’t know.” He waved his hand, shoving another forkful into his mouth, and you realised the men here had never been raised to chew with their mouths closed, as though they were raised wild as teens. “Anyway, I was seeing this chick at the time, and y’know, she was hot. A bit too feisty even for me.”

“I somehow find that hard to believe.”

“Hey, there are things even I wouldn't do!” He objected, and behind you, as he helped himself to food, Winston snorted. “Yeah, not much, though.”

“Anyway, as I was saying, she comes to visit me at work. She’s got her hands all over, she was just dating me because I was a fireman. She drags me behind a truck and we were, well, making out pretty heavily. Like teenagers behind the science block. They caught it on the camera while touring, and had to cut it all out and refilm that section.” He shrugged, like it was no big deal, and Winston took a seat beside him, your eyes fixed on your coworkers, brows raising.

“It was more than just making out. She had her legs around your waist.”

“She did not!” Minho scoffed, crumbs of the food flying everywhere, and you couldn’t contain the laugh as he turned to punch his friend in the arm, the two setting off in a weak match of slaps and punches as they tried to keep eating.

Brenda was next through the door, already seeming to look composed and poised like she’d had hours to get ready, all but gliding through the room, and she flickered her eyes over the two tussling boys. “What’s going on in here?”

“Winston was just telling me about the time Minho got caught on camera kissing a chick behind the trucks.”

“Oh, you mean the girl with her legs around his waist?” Brenda was then immediately drawn into the argument, hissed whisper-shouts as you tried to contain your laughter, and as the hours ticked on from the discussion, your plate slipped into the dishwasher, a fresh pot of coffee being started, more and more of the team began to join the room. The next was Gally. His nose turned up at the offer of coffee, Brenda mocking him for his selective taste in teas, trying to copy his accent too, but he did help himself to a plate of food. Clint and Jeff were next, the two practically attached at the hip, moving as a unit, always one with the other. They were talking among themselves as they got their breakfasts, but took enough time free to offer their greetings to everyone, mumbling a vague ‘thank you’ to ‘whoever had cooked’, before they were sitting at the table and becoming invested in their conversation once again.

Newt came in next, bright and cheery and full of energy, as he had been for the last three days since getting the boot taken off his foot and being able to rotate his ankle and walk normally again, limp barely present now he was like a bright ray of sunshine, rising with the actual sunrise. Fry and Zart followed, passing through as the sun in the room rose, the music being drowned out by the loud chatter in the room, the clattering of cutlery and utensils, with the vague noise of the morning news being turned on for a weather update.

Taking your phone back from where it was placed on the stand, you lifted it up, barely any of the food you’d made remaining, and you felt an overwhelming sense of accomplishment at providing for your team, and never having a single complaint. It wasn’t often that you made this kind of gestures, it wasn’t often worth it, not when you were so used to take your meals and finding a quiet spot to eat alone, but more and more, you’d been finding yourself enjoying the company of the people around you, progressively feeling more included in the conversations and activities as the ripples across the water caused by your arrival began to settle.

Chuck was a late riser, still looking completely dazed as he stepped into the room, a little wobble in his step, and you took the liberty of creating a plate for him, and a large mug of coffee, taking it over to where he had slumped down at the dining table with his head rested on his hands, eyes already closing. Creeping up behind your friend, you leaned down, light snores leaving him as he began to doze off again, despite being surrounded by stimulation, noise and light.

“Boo!”

He jerked violently, almost knocking the food and mug out of your hand as he sat up, looking shocked for just a moment, before red-twinged cheeks were facing your directions, narrowed eyes in a glare, and a scowl on his face. “You suck.”

“I brought you food and coffee.”

He considered it for a moment, eyes sweeping over the plate, before sitting up a little straighter. “Okay, you suck slightly less now.”

He accepted the offerings, digging in almost instantaneously, and you took a seat beside him, sipping the hot drink in your own hands as you absorbed the environment. Making friends was hard when you skipped about so much, even making friends outside of work, as you moved from one side of the city of the other to new houses, never bothering to decorate or properly unpack because you weren’t sure how long you’d ever be in one location.

It was undeniably nice to be surrounded for once, and not be immediately looking for the next exit.

Chuck was happy to just talk, filling the space between you both as he spoke about everything he could think of. He told you about his mother, and his four older sisters, the second of whom was getting married, and the first of whom was halfway through her pregnancy, and how excited he was to become an uncle. He asked you about your bruises, and how the swelling was doing, making you demonstrate the rotations of your arm for him as the muscles no longer ached as you could lift them over your head, some discoloured splotching where the bruises were almost healed was all that was left.

As the clock ticked over, just past 8AM, the room was full. Even Vince having passed through and joined you all for a cup of coffee and a reasonably quick chat, giving into the teasing he was getting from Newt and Brenda about an update on the doctor he’d been seeing, her name revealed as Mary now things were getting serious, and you hoped to meet her one day at the hospital.

It was clear to you that the people here were a family, and despite the friction between you and some of the members, certain ones sticking strong with their guards up against you as they followed in their Lieutenant’s footsteps, you were winning some of them over. Newt had yet to bring it back up, the challenge that he’d issued you of giving it a year, and promising that this house would be different, but you knew he hadn't forgotten the conversations, because every so often, you’d catch his gaze lingering on you when you were chatting to another colleague, and reaching out a little more.

Chiming about your head signalled a call coming in, the room falling from commotion and filled with activity to dead and silent as everyone listened, and the second it was over, all of the chairs were scraping, pots and cutlery clammering as plates were stacked up haphazardly, and the room was cleared in seconds. Only you and Newt remained, being given a free minute, maybe two at the maximum, as you waited for the foremen to grab their equipment and swap out shoes for protective boots, gear in hand as they loaded the trucks.

“I’m going to go and check on Tommy, make sure he’s up.”

You nodded, realising now why the atmosphere around you was so peaceful. There was no walking on eggshells or lingering glares, nothing that might put you off about saying the wrong thing in fear of getting yelled out, or burning gals into the back of your skull, but simply the calm and quiet of being surrounded by people who were at least civil with you, instead of hating your guts.

Grabbing the trays that were barely even warm now, the food having cooled a while ago, you stacked up what was on a single plate, covering it with a quick wrap of foil, and watching as Thomas stumbled on past in a flurry of movement that made you think he might trip, grabbing his boots from the floor and his coat and helmet form the rack, not even bothering to change them before getting onto the squad truck waiting, and watching as it disappeared.

Tucking the reserved plate into the fridge, everything else was left out to be sorted later, and you grabbed the keys from the rack, meeting Newt in the doorway, the two of you jogging side by side to the vehicle. Since the period of time when you’d been driving instead of him while his boot was on, he seemed to have gained a little more trust in you, allowing you to drive the vehicle instead, every so often, despite how precious the rig maybe to him.

Doors slamming shut on either side, and as soon as the engine was on, Newt flipped on the emergency sirens, letting you strap yourself in beside him as you began to pull out of the courtyard, chasing after the red trucks ahead of you both in a rapid pursuit to your destination.

Early morning traffic cleared, the palm of your hand continually pressing down on the horn as people tried to pull back across lanes in the road as soon as the firetrucks had cleared, never having the patience to wait for the ambulances to go through to, but you battled to keep up with them, the smaller vehicle making it easier to navigate and weave through the other cars.

Smoke was already curling up into the air as you arrived, thick and dark, worrying bursts of it, and the stench of gas was filling the car as soon as you arrived on the street, pulling up to the sidewalk and throwing the van into park.

Hopping out of the vehicle, you let out a long breath, trying not to cringe at the smell on the air or the taste it was leaving in your mouth, your stomach twisting a little. You shared a look with Newt, looking around at the situation as you tried to assess it all, feet carrying you closer to the group of firefighters who were coming up with a game plan for the situation at hand. Thomas was already barking orders, hair messy from scratching at it and running his hands through with stress, a look you’d seen several of the men get when things shit the fire, pun intended, and you came to a halt.

Crossing your arms over your chest, Thomas’ eyes flicked to you and Thomas, words pausing in his mouth, snapping shut as he tried to reevaluate the plan. sniffling at the air, he groaned a little, skating his head.

“Alright, Minho’s on shutting these gas lines. Go and find an override until we can get this fixed. Take Chuck with you.” The official firefighter nodded, the unofficial firefighter perking up a little at the task, and pulling on their masks, the two of them set off. “Can I get paramedics setting up a stretcher straight away, we got reports that there’s a family inside, the house that started the fire. Mother was cooking when the main exploded, and it shot right through to her stove.”

You had your instructions, the two of you heading in a quick jog back to the van, because no matter what everyone else did, you had your instructions. The back of the van was opened, and you worked on unfastening the stretcher wheels as Newt prepped the van, a medkit laid out on the shelves and the ramp down. There were already people beginning to inch their way, undoubtedly complaining of headaches and nausea due to the exposure.

There was a breeze along the road, warm and reasonably calm, nothing intense enough to whip up smoke and dust into your eyes, and it was good at clearing away the lingering cloud of gas on the street, but it wasn’t so good for the firefighters. You couldn't help the way that your eye swerve flickering over to the house every so often, bright and roaring as you felt the heat all the way from here, warm cheeks under the burning glare, and you worried the flames would spread.

They were only raising higher, the entire downstairs of the house had taken alight, and Thomas and his team were still trying to work out how to get inside of the house without endangering themselves, and how to get the family out. Brenda was on hoses, dragging the reel down the street to the closest fire hydrant as fast as she possibly could, trying to screen the nozzle into place.

It was easy enough to access people, giving them each a small mask and an oxygen tank, sitting them down on the opposite curb of the sidewalk, and making sure to run along and check on their symptoms again every five minutes. The roads had been closed off on either side, barricaded by police cars and trucks, and Minho and Chuck were returning, helping Brenda with the hose as they went. The first member of the family was being brought out, a young girl being carried by who you assumed to be Gally, purely based on the height of hi as he came running over, the little girl in his arms out cold as she hung limply in his grip, and he rushed to lay her down against the bed.

“Newt, can I get a monitor?”

He yelled his reply, words not making much sense as he fumbled in the back of the van, grabbing at the monitor as best he could, and you began your initial assessment of her. Your suspicions were confirmed as the helmet and mask form the firefighter before you were removed, Gally staring down at you, wide eyes as your hands scanned along her. Tipping her head back, you opened her mouth, checking her throat hadn't become blocked, before using the small flashlight on your keychain to check the reaction in her pupils.

“She’s got some rapid ration to light in her pupils, no brain damage, smoke and gas inhalation isn’t too bad.” He let out a sigh of relief, lips flicking up at the sides as you confirmed her safety to him. Pressing gently along her lungs, you found no broken bones or ribs, making sure to keep her head a little tipped back so her airways were open as best they could be, and Newt rounded the table to the other side Bumping Gally out of the way slightly, the taller boy stepped back, waiting anxiously for more confirmation. It was sweet, his concern for the younger ones, and you’d noticed it over the last month and a half, watching him interact with children was always special. “You got a sister, Gally?”

“How’d you know?”

“Call it a lucky guess.” You teased, watching Newt beginning to cut away the sleeve of her shirt to hook up a child-sized heart monitor band onto her arm. Gally seemed just as panicked, and you’d be willing to bet money on his little sister being young, probably around this girl’s age, and seeing his own family in the victims. “Tell me about her? I bet she’s really cute.”

“She is, actually. She’s going through a unicorn phase, has been ever since turning seven.”

Bingo.

“She likes glitter too, and if you ask her what her favourite colour is, she’ll probably say rainbow. My parents have this neighbour, who is a couple years older than her, but they still hang out. The neighbour just got her first eyeshadow kit, you know, those ones they give away as free gifts with kids magazines and stuff? All the latest gossip on Selena Gomez or High School Musical, or whatever?”

You laughed a little bit, stepping away into the truck long enough to find another of the pre-prepared rows of oxygen tanks made up, and bringing it back with a small mask. Putting the band over her head, a soft beeping took up around you both as Newt confirmed that he couldn't find any further injuries on the girl, her stomach feeling soft and so there wasn’t much likelihood of any internal injuries, she was just unconscious. “Hey, don’t knock those magazines! That’s where I got my first lip gloss from!”

“She’s too young for makeup!” He huffed, the overprotective brother in him shining through to the foreground as he spoke. “So, uh, this little one. She’s going to be okay?”

“Of course, she is. Newt and I are a great team!” You beamed, Newt cheering from a few metres away where he’d wandered off to go and check on the other patients, check they were all still doing okay, no further symptoms arising. Turning the box with the heartbeat to him, his eyes closed in on it, looking as confused as ever. “There’s a lot of symbols and crap that looks confusing, I know, but just listen. Steady heartbeat, nice and strong.”

“That’s good.”

“Yeah, it is.” Pointing to a collection of numbers, the meaning of which was like reciting the alphabet to you but you didn’t have time to explain it to Gally right now. “See these numbers, that means her heart is staying at that strength too, she’s not fluctuating or dipping, she’s doing just fine. She’s got a mask on, and other than a killer headache when she wakes up, she’s going to be just peachy.”

“Thank you.” He finally let his shoulder’s slump, looking back towards the house, and pulling his mask back on, a nod shared between you both as his helmet followed, and with that brief break to check on the young girl he’d saved, he was returning to guide his team.

The flames in the wind were getting awfully close to the other house, despite the teams trying to put out the flames, but there were only two hoses, and they had to focus on getting the downstairs of the current house controlled first. Now that the gas was out, the flames were beginning to be tamed, no longer having an accelerant to burn on, only the fuel of the house, but it didn’t make the charred black marks along the outside of the house any less concerning.

The second patient you were receiving was the father, coughing and spluttering, conscious but in a worse state than his daughter, though he looked like he didn’t care about any of it as his eyes locked onto the little girl, and he tried to put more weight on his own two feet and less on the member of your team who was holding him up.

You didn't get to see who this was, because he was dashing away from the second that the man was showing signs of being able to support his own body, right back into the flames to become a hero once again. You rushed forward as he stumbled, hands grabbing onto him to try and keep him held up, and you walked him backwards slowly as he wheezed, sitting him down on the edge of the truck, his eye moving over to his little girl.

“My girl-”

“-is going to be just fine, sir, don’t you worry. I’ve already checked her out, and she’s doing great. She’s strong, a little fighter!” You offered him a smile, one that he weakly returned, his shoulder’s slumping as he coughed violently. “Can you tell me your name?”

“John.” He wheezed, and you nodded, grabbing a fresh set of forms from the truck and placing them down beside him. Checking his airways and his vision, you deemed him okay, asking him about his pain levels, while preparing a new mask for him, and hooking it all up, twisting the oxygen on and hearing the canister let out a little hiss as it was activated.

“Can you tell me your last name?”

“Davidson.” He muttered, accepting the mask happily from you as you held it out to him, lifting it over his head, and he was covered in soot, ash still lingering in the hair around his head, a light burn on the patches of clear skin on the top, his head ducking as you began to check them over.

“Well, Mr Davidson, I’d say you’re looking rare, maybe medium-rare, but you’ll be just fine.” His eyes creased a little at the sides, a muffled laugh from behind the mask as he tried to take deep and steadying breaths, nodding his head. “You think you can start filling out those forms for me? Get one filled out for every member of your family, and it’ll save you so much time at the hospital, and it’d really do me a solid.”

He held slightly shaking hands out to you, a collection of them all pinned on the board, beginning to write his name slowly, both of your attentions looking up at the sound of snapping wood. The porch had collapsed, the smoke in the doorway clearing a little, but just because the lower flames were beginning to give way, the upper was still burning bright, only catching more heat, and you nibbled on your lower lip.

“Everyone is alright, neighbours are doing a headcount among themselves, but there’s an elderly chap, mid-seventies, name of ‘Mr O’Hare’ seeming to be missing.”

The sound of a pain clattering onto the metal of the ambulance floor before rolling away and hitting the concrete made you jump, both of you turning with raised brows to look at the man behind you, Crouching down to get the pen again, you handed it back to him, and he raised a weak hand to pull at his mask, concern and imminent fear on his face again. “That’s our neighbour.”

“I’m sorry?”

“Mr O’Hare, that’s our neighbour. He hasn’t been doing so well, lately, my wife brings him groceries every week, his family comes to visit. He sleeps a lot, he gave us a key to get in to put the groceries away.” A wash of panic set over both you and Newt, your eyes flicking back up to the house you’d been concerned about, the black marks of charring on the walls beginning to grow as the flames curled over, and as you squinted a little, you found the edges of the rood were already beginning to powder to ash, sizzling orange as the risked igniting.

You grabbed ahold of Newt’s arm, encouraging the man in your care to go back to the sheets he should be focusing on, trying to keep him calm. “Nobody has been in that house yet, Newt. That house is full of gas, the doors and windows are closed. It’s a time bomb waiting to go off.”

“You’d better go and find a fireman, because here comes the wife, and I’m going to need to go to the hospital as soon as she’s checked out.” You only nodded your head, grabbing for your medkit, swinging the bags up onto your shoulders and setting off. The first you came across was Chuck, standing outside of the building at the back of the house, making sure no wires were becoming trapped, and just as you were about to try and get his attention, a blur of movement in your peripherals brought you to a stop.

A concerned neighbour, no idea what was about to happen but you felt like you were watching it in slow-motion as the young man made his way up toward the door, kicking at it roughly as he did, the lock popping as he tried to venture inside for his neighbour. A split second, he’d barely gotten through the doorway, before the loud explosion of a houseful of gas igniting in an instant made your eyes ring, as though your eardrums had shattered. The blast sent you down to the floor, smoke, splintered wood, shards of glass, all flying around you at the sudden implications.

You could hear muffled screaming around you, your fingers digging into the dirt beneath you as you scraped your hands back to your body, and pushed yourself up. Cuts along your skin, nothing you couldn't take care of, simply the light pieces of glass that had flown past, leaving a message in their wake, a warning not to play with anything sharp. Large hands locked onto your body, pulling you to your feet, and you blinked away the stunned feeling you had, watching as the mask was lifted.

Shaking your head little, it all suddenly came back into focus, piercing sounds, the yelling of worried neighbours, and the closer yelling of the man in front of you. Gally. “(Y/L/N), are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah. I’m good, I’m fine. A few bumps and scratches, nothing serious.” He nodded his head, eyes sweeping over you regardless, and you pushed messy hair back out of your face. “There’s someone in that building, though. I was going to suggest going through the door after leaking the gas out slowly, but it’s a bit late for that now.”

You looked around, a cord forming around the man who’d been blasted back, and it wasn’t looking good.

“We’re going to need another ambulance. Call med, get one here.”

He nodded, his head, stepping away from you for a second to bring his radio to his mouth, and your hand snagged onto Chuck’s arm, shaking him a little as he stared in abject horror at the scene before him, his age really showing on his face now. Orange flickered over his features, the presence of freckles on your friend’s face distracted by hair that almost looked red in front of flames, and you shouted his name to catch his attention, wide eyes snapping to you.

“Where’s your team?” He raised a hand, pointing to the smoke of the building, and you nodded your head. He was rattled, and you shook him a little, hands on the lapels of his fireproof jacket for leverage. “Hey, Chuck, listen up. This is no time to freeze, alright? You’re a firefighter, now get someone who can spare a hand on the radio, because there’s someone else who needs saving.”

He swallowed thickly, nodding his head, and bringing the device up, button on the side pressed to talk into, and it crackled for a minute as he put the message out there, waiting for someone to reply. Grabbing his arm, you dragged him along behind you, letting him stand behind you as you shouldered through to find the groaning man on the floor, skin raw and burned, grit stuck to him from where he’d rolled along the floor in the blow back, and you hissed a little, kneeling down.

Dropping your bag and snapping on a fresh pair of gloves, Chuck sent out another call for help, and you rolled the man onto his back carefully. There wasn’t much you could do for him here, except get him on a mask and disinfect his wounds, but it wasn't going to be a pleasant process. A canister of disinfectant was your best bet for covering raw areas this large, and you pulled it out, shaking it aw you went.

“Chuck, what’s wrong?”

You bit your tongue from groaning at who replied, glancing over your shoulder for a second, the nervous boy’s eyes meeting yours, and you gave him a nod, staying focused on your task at hand and waiting for Chuck to speak instead. “We’ve got a situation, Lieutenant. That building that just went up, (Y/N) says there’s someone trapped inside, upstairs, I think.”

“Fuck. Not exactly getting in through the bottom floor, are we?” There was a series of rattles, scuffling as you assumed them to be checking over the rooms, and you swallowed thickly, hearing the wailing sirens of another ambulance beginning to get close enough to you. The conversation around you fell away, letting Chuck and Thomas hash out a plan, before you were looking back to the man on the floor, his eyes wide and on yours, shaking with pain as he still tried to stay strong.

“Hey, that was real brave of you there. Trying to save your neighbour, huh?”

“I just wanted to help.” He mumbled, words broken and light as he tried not to cry them out, his voice strained, and you nodded your head.

“Yeah, and it was admirable. One of the bravest things I’ve ever seen, and I work with firefighters! I’m going to get you patched up, alright?” He nodded his head, gritting his teeth as you warned him that it was going to hurt, before spraying the cleaner over his skin, and a shrieking scream left his lips. It was blood-curdling, and you’d never get used to the way your stomach clenched or your teeth ground together when you knew you were causing someone that pain, even if you were trying to help. It would cool, a foam setting over his skin as it dissolved softly, and the pain faded away as the paste helped start to remove trapped heat from his skin, soothing burns and making him slump back a little. “You hear those sirens, real close now. They’re for you.”

He only nodded, before a hand was finding your shoulder, and Chuck was pulling you back a little, much to your confusion.

“What is it, Chuck? I need to get him loaded onto an ambo’.”

“No, you need to come with me.” Your brows furrowed, his hands finding your wrist, and as the ambulance pulled up, you caught sight of another paramedic, one you’d seen around the halls at the hospital, flagging them down to where the man was as they grabbed a board and set off toward him. “Lieutenant has a plan, best we got.”

“Alright, what is it?”

He stopped you before the truck, opening up one of the storage doors on the side, eyes scanning over you for a second, before he was beginning to pull out equipment. “We’re going to extend a ladder from one window to the other, crawl across, and get him. Then, come back across the ladder.”

“That’s a twenty-foot drop, you’d break bones if you fall, maybe even your neck, and the older man in that house won’t be able to balance.”

“He’s going to have to.” Chuck placed a helmet onto your head, wrapping a jacket around your arms, and you barely caught the mask he was pressing into your hands. “You’re going to have to as well, because he’s going to need a medical check.”

“A medical check? The man won’t even be conscious with the amount of gas built up in there!”

“Good thing you’re coming then. Do your job well, save his life.” The static-covered voice over the radio called out, and you glared at the device, jaw clenching at the insinuation that you ever did anything less than your best. Gally and Winston were unloading a manual ladder from the truck, setting off into the house with it, and you gulped as you felt your friend's hands move along the front of the jacket to fasten it up. Pants came next, a large pair of baggy and protective pants, stepping into them as he held them out to you, as fear filled your body at the idea of having to crawl from one burning building and into another. “Hurry up and get her kitted, Chuck, we don’t have all day! Floors getting weaker up here by the second.”

He followed with boots, a little too big for your feet but they would do, your sneakers left discarded on the floor beside you as he laced them up, and you forced yourself to be strong, just like everybody else had been today. Leaning down to take the radio and make sure it was on for you to speak into, you found yourself rearing into action. “I’m going to get a neck brace from our ambo’ and a blackboard, our best bet is to just slide him across it while he’s unconscious, like a conveyor belt, fastest way.”

“I’ll get you two men and we’ll call in for a third ambo’ to collect him.” Thomas confirmed, and you tried to get used to walking in the heavy material, feeling like your body was being weighed down by all the gear. Newt was just getting himself ready to leave for the hospital, closing up the back of the ambulance, and his eyes scanned over you before a cheeky grin was taking place.

“Wow, look at you. Hot date?”

“Yeah, real hot.” You muttered, jabbing a finger over your shoulder. “I need the backboard and the neck brace, I’ll meet you back at the station, alright?”

He only nodded his head, hanging both pieces of equipment to you and sealing up the van, but before you’d managed to catch sight of the smile that John had sent you, his wife petting their daughter’s hair as they were confirmed to all be alright.

Chuck checked your mask, turned on your tank, and a rush of pure air filled your lungs as you took a breath, before the helmet was being placed over your head, and you already felt like you were burning up from the inside out. You’d dashed into a burning building before, hopped up on adrenaline and desperation, but this somehow felt different.

Like an out of body experience as you felt the wooden flooring chip under your feet, crunching as it burned away to ash, the actors half-fallen apart, and Chuck guided you upstairs slowly the bottom of the house utterly destroyed. Brenda met you at the top, her hands held out for you to take, her fingers wrapping around your forearms as you reciprocated, and she eased you the rest of the way up.

Minho was next, visible through his mask as you got closer, and he nodded his head to you, hands holding firmly onto the hose as he tried to get control over the building once again. It felt odd, like you were walking in one of those simulation arcade attractions or playing a video game, every movement you made never feeling like your own through the layers of equipment.

The ladder was already set up, balancing precariously from one window ledge to the other.

The one opposite you seemed much more secure, not yet tarnished by flames, whereas this one was uneven, the end being held down by Gally, and all the men in the room stood a little teller, springing to action as you reserved. “About time.”

“I was doing my best.” You sneered, brown eyes rolling a little at you through the cover of the glass. Gally took the board from you, tying a piece of rope to each end of it, and checking the length, and you wandered over to the window ledge, looking out and peering down at the grass below.

“I’m going to go over fist, and secure it at the other end for you, then you come over. We get him on the board, send him back. Gally and Chuck will take him out to the ambo’. You’ll go across next, Minho will hold the ladder for you, and I’ll come last, you got it?”

You could only nod your head, feeling like the information was going in one ear and out of the other, and your head spun a little as you watched Thomas climb up and out of the window, crawling his way across the divide in a fast shuffle, no hesitation present, jumping right into the action.

He pried the window open, a precarious balancing act that made your breath hitch in your throat as the ladder-bridge wobbled, before he was slipping inside. Turning back and waving his hands out, Gally sent the board across, a piece of string pulled tighter, and now, you understood what the string had been for, the length reaching all the way from one house to the other, even when the board was taken inside and laid on the floor.

You were next, hands placed on the edge of the window, and jumping back a little as still fighting flames from the lower floors roared up at you. Your back pressed to Gally’s chest, and he placed a shoulder on your upper arm, the tank between you both that had collided with his chest making him huff, but he squeezed reassuringly and pushed your forward again.

“Any time today would be great, (Y/L/N).”

“I’m fucking scared, okay? Give me a damn minute, this isn’t what I do, I don’t go into the fires!” You yelled, hands forming fists as you tried to contain yourself, and Thomas didn’t say anything else after that. You climbed up, one knee pressed to metal that was already beginning to get warm, you could feel it through the protective pants you wore, and your hands sealed around the edges. Bringing the other own up, you found yourself kneeling over a twenty-foot drop directly into a fire from two windowsills, one of which was crumbling. “Oh, fuck, fuck, fuck..”

“You’re doing great, alright?”

His voice was much softer this time, your head snapping up, and while one hand was still holding onto the ladder, the other was reaching out, pointing a little ahead of one of your hands.

“One rung at a time, alright? You can do this, c’mon. This man needs your help.”

The brace you had clipped to your back swung a little, your body moving as your instinct to catch it kicked in, and the ladder rocked, a small shriek leaving your lips. The encouragement he gave you was a nice alternative to the constant feuding, but it was more the other words he’d said that gave you the confidence to go on. Someone’s life was in your hands, and you’d be damned if you took so long being scared that he died before you could help him. Picking up motion, you did as he said, one rung at a time as you moved out toward the middle of the ladder.

“That’s it, nice work.” He nodded, pointing at other spots to put your hands, before lifting his own, offering a thickly gloved hand to you, and you hesitated for only a moment, pausing, before reaching out to take it, and he gripped onto you tightly. “See? I got you, you’re fine.”

He tugged you closer, inching you the rest of the way forwards, and helping you down from the window at the other side, until you were balancing on your feet again. This room wasn’t yet on fire, but smoke was filling it, beginning to seep between the floorboards as an ominous and foreboding orange glow was present, the floor burning away beneath your very feet.

As told, there he was, the old man on his bed, looking as peaceful as though he were sleeping, and you made your way over to him. Smoothing along his body, you tried lifting one of his eyelids, barely being able to get a soft grip through the gloves, and struggling to hold down the tip of your keychain flashlight.

“I can’t do a damn thing with these stupid gloves on!”

“Don’t you da-” You didn’t care, stripping them off and pushing them into his hands as you hissed, not having realised just how much these clothes were shielding you from, the heat in the room almost unbearable on your flesh as your skin tingled. Checking his eyes and his pulse, you found movement of his pupils, slower than ideal but still there, and a low but prominent pulse under his skin.

“He’s okay, we’re all good here.” Thomas only nodded his head, handing the gloves back to you urgently, and moving to unclip the neck support from your pack as you worked. Sealing the plastic contraption around his neck to keep his head secure, you rolled him onto his side, the board coming next, rope beginning to pull tighter as you tried to cross the room to reach him, before finally getting him situated.

Strapped down and sealed on tight, you helped Thomas begin to place him delicately on the ladder, and once again fear was taking you over completely. There were flashing cameras, a group of people far bigger than it had been when you were on the street, and a final ambulance ready to offer assistance.

“That’s a lot of people.” You mumbled, feeling a hand on your shoulder as Thomas pulled you back and away from the window.

“Then don’t look.” He tossed you a glance, before helping Gally begin to inch the man across the bridge, rope always pulled tight to keep him secure, and it felt like lifetimes passed as you watched him go, inch by inch, until Chuck was taking a hold of the top half, pulling it further inside until Gally could take the other, and just like that, the man was safe.

Minho took their place, the man on the stretcher disappearing into the smoke with both of the taller firefighters as Thomas was stuck with you, and you shook yourself out, trying to rid yourself of tension and patting yourself down to check everything was okay.

“Don’t pay any attention to them, okay?” Hands found your arms, turning you to look at him, looking up through the glass to find his eyes. “They’re a distraction, just focus on my voice, and Minho’s voice, that’s it.”

“Okay.”

“Okay? You ready?”

You weren’t sure you’d ever really be ready to crawl over a pit of fire on an unstable bridge between two burning buildings, but you nodded anyway, and climbed up onto the frame. One inch at a time, you made your way across, whimpering a little under your breath with every shake and jolt it made as the windowsill finally started to collapse. You wanted to be fast but cautious, keeping it steady without freezing up, and there was a point in the middle where the hands Thomas had placed on your hips to keep you steady slipped away, but you were not yet in reach of Minho, and you were completely on your own.

Two feet, and then you’d be able to reach Minho, to let him pull you inside and back to reasonable safety, and you were pretty sure that after this, you were never going to be offering to go into a burning building again. One foot, and Minho was lifting his hands up to you, the gentle but firm mumblings to hurry up echoing from Thomas, and then a hand wrapped around yours, giving you the confidence and security to speed up.

When your feet finally touched the ground once again, you were letting out a happy sigh, a kind of high racing through your system at the relief of being safe once again making you feel like you could float in clouds. You turned back, watching Thomas adjust his gloves, the flames in the room behind him beginning to grow as the floorboards started to give way at the cracks, and Minho was holding the ladder secure, but the flames were growing higher, and the charred wood was beginning to give way.

“Lieutenant, you need to speed up, this window is going to give way soon.”

“My glove won’t tie.” He muttered, trying the toggle again, but the plastic clip seemed to have snapped, and as he tried to fasten it again, the creaking of the wood made his head snap up. Surveying the scene, the ladder was already sitting at a slightly uneven angle now, and you swallowed thickly at the sight, now wishing you’d had the bravery to move a little faster. “Right, well, guess we’re going as it is.”

Climbing his way up onto the bars, his body was tilted, slumping a little towards the flames as the team below moved the hose, trying to spray the flames enough to keep them down, but without creating smoke that would blind him. Stepping back, you crossed your arms over your chest, anxiety taking over, and you brought a thumb up to your mouth to chew on the nail from habit. Your thumb hit against the glass of your mask, a low curse on your lips as a single strike of pain moved along your arm.

Thomas was only halfway across, before the ladder was shaking again, a chunk of burned wood falling away as the ladder shuddered and fell, falling onto its side a little further, and Thomas had only stuck to the rung by hooking each foot into the rungs, body leaning into the flames a little more. The sirens, the ambulance pulling away and the shouts of those outside, the burning of flames, creaking of wood, spraying of water, all fell away. It was terrifying, to think that if you had just moved a little fast he could be back by now, if you’d made it to the door to leak the gas faster, or notice the neighbour a little sooner that nobody would have been on a ladder at all.

“Thomas, hurry up!”

“Yeah, thanks for that, I was thinking I’d take it even slower!” He huffed into the comm, and you weren’t sure where your own words had come from, but the desperation and fear of losing a team member had you on edge.

The window was giving easy, the closer he got and the more weight was on that spot, the more it began to crumble, and you saw it give way before it registered, Minho’s hands leaving the handles of the ladder to grab for Thomas, and you heard the grunt he let out as the side of his body collided with the building.

The ladder clattered to the ground outside, and just like that, plumes of smoke were rising as the flames were finally put out, black clouds rising up and blocking your view of the other house as an acrid smell filled the air. Minho had one hand, pulling him, up, and the other latched onto the windowsill, scrabbling. His wrist was exposed, a raw gap between the sleeve and the glove that wouldn't fasten, and you managed to find action on shaky legs, stepping forwards and wrapping your hands around his wrists, helping to pull him up and through the window, protecting the exposed patch.

He rolled over the floor, a loud banging as he collapsed down onto it, splayed out across the floor and relieved. One hand lay across his chest, and your legs felt weak and wobbly from the exertion and adrenaline of the day, and you leaned on the wall for support. Minho patted at your shoulder, a weak laugh on his lips, and the floorboards and you creaked with the weight of Thomas shifting, before you could sense eyes on you, cracking them open to see him standing before you.

“Go, c’mon. This house is still dangerous, you need to get out.”

You nodded, body trembling a little as you tried to control it, following in his steps as he led the way, thick smoke and glowing ass as the house was destroyed, melted plastic and synthetics, like some kind of horror scene, and you supposed that, in a way, it was. When your feet finally found the grass again, you stripped your helmet off from your head, mask following, a gasping breath as you felt the cool breeze sweeping over your skin, and you felt practically layered in sweat. Making your way back to where your pack and your shoes were still laying by one of the firetrucks, you leaned against it, sinking down to the floor as you finally let the tension go.

Your elbows propped up on bent knees, holding up your head as it fell forwards, and you let out a shaky breath, finding that you weren’t a fan of the fire scene. It wasn’t what you were used to, last-minute decisions in burning houses weren’t your forte. You were good with medicine, and you knew how to save lives, that was your skill. Burning buildings and heights over a sinister drop to your death, not so much.

A scuffing sounded beside you, and you looked up, frowning at Thomas as he let his jacket fall down his arms, the red and burned flesh of his wrists shown to you more obviously. He placed it back inside, before turning to you, hand held out to take your helmet and mask from you, silently as he put them back in the correct places within the van. Next up was your jacket, and you stretched your legs out before yourself to lean forwards and strip it off, handing it up to him, and shivering and the sudden cold that took you over as you were down the layer you’d grown accustomed to.

Leaning forwards to undo the boots, you pulled one foot forward, beginning to struggle with the laces that Chuck had down for you, unbelievably tight, and huffing as you finally got it untangled. “You did good in there.”

You paused from where you were loosening the laces down, turning to look up at him, and he wasn’t paying any attention to you, but he did catch your eye for a split second. “Thank you. I hated every second of it.”

His lips flicked up at the sides, and he nodded his head, moving to take a seat in front of you, and pulling your other foot to sit before him on the concrete and beginning to undo the knots. “I can tell, but you pulled through as a part of the team, it was good work.”

“I think this is the longest you’ve ever been nice to me.”

“I’m not being nice, I’m simply giving you feedback. If I wanted to be nice to you, I would be.” He muttered, pulling both boots from your feet and standing back up, leaving you to wince as your heels hit the ground, a shock running up the nerves along your legs. “Hurry up and get yourself up, Brenda is already rolling up the hose, we’re going to leave soon. You’ll have to get a lift back with us.”

“Sure thing, Lieutenant.” Your eyes rolled, standing up to push the baggy pants down your legs, leaving you once again in your paramedic trousers, and kicking them off at your ankles, leaving them in a pile at his feet, a sickly sweet smile on your lips as you bent to collect your bag and your shoes. “I’ll get a lift with Truck.”

You gave him a small salute, walking right past him as his stare flickered between you and the pile of clothing, a growl on his lips, but you were already walking away from him. Gally was more than happy to offer you a lift, holding open the back of the truck, and settled down into the leather seats, the smell of sweat and burn lingering in the cabin. Tying up one shoe, you switched feet, sorting the other out, before slumping into the chair.

Fry was the first back, up into the front seat as he restarted the vehicle, the engine under your feet chugging to life, and as the humming of the engine started up, the pounding behind your eyes becoming apparent, rubbing at your eyes as they closed. Winston was next, sliding into the seats opposite you, Clint following, and you slumped out as they began to discuss the day.

It had been exhausting, everything in you was screaming out for sleep, and with only a few hours left of your shift, you knew you would be collapsing into sleep from the moment you got home tonight. The day had been taxing both mentally, physically and emotionally, and as Chuck squeezed in beside you, your head fell to his shoulder.

“You’re all sweaty.” You grumbled, and he only laughed, the vehicle charging into motion once Gally was in the front seat and the rest of the Truck team were on board, your eyes sliding closed.

The journey seemed to slip away, the headache in your skull pounding away, and you managed to find your phone in your backpack, bringing it up at one point to text Newt and find out where he was, only to discover he'd been back at the Firehouse for almost half an hour, and was probably eating the cereal bars you’d hidden.

The time slipped away, and you felt as though you’d almost drifted off, against your own intentions, jerking up a little as the truck came to a halt.

“You’re tired, huh?”

“Yes.” You muttered, groaning as you forced yourself to your feet and stepped down from the platform of the truck, leaving the men to swap out their shoes and hang up their equipment, and Newt had his arms held out to you with a grin on his face, cooing at you as you stumbled forward. “Stop making fun of me.”

“Someone looks exhausted!” He practically sang the words, and you groaned, slumping into him as his arms wrapped around you, and he laughed in your ear while rubbing a hand up and down your back. He eased you for a second, going quiet as he held you, before pulling back, and squeezing at your arms. “How’s that headache?”

“Raging.”

“I got you some painkillers out.” He mumbled, one arm wrapping over your shoulders and guiding you over to the truck. He had a hot bucket of disinfectant and the mop, and as well as all the cleaning equipment, the smell of chemicals already present and showing off that he’d already started on the work to be done. “If you keep me company, I’ll clean the ambo’.”

“You’re a blessing.” He only nodded, handing you two tablets and a plastic cup of water, you chugged them down, all but crawling through the van to slump into the front seat, legs curled up a little as you rested against the still warm fabric.

The rhythmic motions of the mop along the floor created a soft noise, one that was steady enough to lull you into sleep, and even from in here, you could hear the loud ticking of the clock on the wall outside, every single second passing by being counted off in your head as you matched your heartbeat to it.

“Newt, I need a favour.” You groaned, keeping it internal as you bit on the inside of your cheek at the grating sound of a voice belonging to the person you arguably despised most in the world right now. “I got a little burned up, so I need some treatment.”

“I’m busy right now, Tommy. (Y/N) can do it.”

“I’m perfectly fine, I’ll just wait.” You cowered a little behind your chair as you hoped Newt would let him go, but your meddling blond friend tutted his lips, putting down the mop, and you already knew what was coming.

“Not with those burns you won’t. You don’t mind, right, love?”

“I really, really do mind.” You raised a hand over your head, flipping the pair off, but waiting only a second longer, before standing up. Making your way through the vehicle, you were at least feeling a little better, even if the weight of the equipment you’d worn, the heat and the terrifying near-death experience was still making you feel physically drained, your almost-nap and painkillers had taken care of you mentally. “Fine, but you can come here. I’m not standing up.”

You collapsed down on the edge of the van, a white vest-clad chest filling your view as he came to stand before you, and you reached for your bag, Grabbing at the medkit inside, Newt snorted, hopping down and moving away to empty the mop bucket, whistling obnoxiously. Pulling on a fresh pair of rubber gloves, you wiggled your fingers a little, latex snapping against your wrist as you let the edge go, before moving onto the job at hand.

Doing an assessment of his injuries, you sighed, letting his hand go to sit in the space between you both, to find both the types of disinfectant. Holding up one canister and one clear bottle, a coppery coloured liquid inside, he looked between them both, brows furrowed, before looking back to you. “Which do you want?”

“What’s the difference?”

“This one-” You held up the can, shaking it a little. “-is a foam, it stings a bit more, but it makes a cool covering that makes it feel better. But this one-” You shook the bottle, the liquid inside sloshing a little as a layer of bubbles built up. “-is just a liquid, doesn’t hurt as much, but won’t take the heat out.”

“I literally could not care less. I just want to get something to eat, and go back to sleep.” You shrugged, grabbing a pad of cotton and tipping some of the liquid onto it, making sure the soft bundle was soaked enough, before folding his fingers into a fist, and beginning to clean at the skin, ignoring the hiss on his lips.

“I made you a plate of food, from breakfast this morning. It’s in the fridge.”

You jumped a little as you heard the aww-ing from across the room, both of your heads turning to look at Newt as he leaned on the cabinets not far away, arms crossed over his chest as he was busy with absolutely fuck-all, and you scowled at him.

“You made me food?”

Thomas’ voice was whispered, and you only glanced up at him for a second, before dipping your head in a series of slow nods, confirming his question, and reaching for some burn cream. Smearing it on your fingers, you rubbed it against the back of your hand, warming it up until it was longer as stiff, and rubbing it onto his skin.

“Thanks, that was nice of you.”

“I’m not being nice, I’m simply doing my job.” The neutral expression on his face dropped into a scowl as you grinned, using his own words against him. Switching to a set of wrappings, you adjusted his arm in front of you, placing the edge of the gauze between his thumb and forefinger, you sealed it down over unblemished skin with bandage tape. “You know, it’s actually in my job description to keep the firefighters in peak health.”

With each layer of bandaging, you added a layer of cooling spray, and he grunted under his breath. “You couldn't just accept a compliment?”

“Well, you made it very clear that we aren’t nice to one another.”

“You’re being petty.” He grouched, snatching his hand back from you as soon as the wrapping was sealed up, one more glare at you before he was glaring at Newt, and walking back out of the room and ignoring you both, especially Newt’s laughing. He made his way over to you, still cracking up, his hand wrapped around his stomach, and you raised a brow at him as you began to pack everything away.

“What’s so funny, chuckles?”

“You and Thomas. Your bickering,” You turned to him, shaking your head as you tried to find an argument for his meddling, and pulling off the gloves from your hands. “You’re like a married couple.”

“If married couples argued like Thomas and I did, they’d be getting divorced.”

“I don’t even think you know what you’re arguing about anymore. You’re just getting at each other, now.” He shrugged, pulling you up from where you were sitting, in order to lock up the doors of the ambulance. “You just got off on the wrong foot, but mark my words, you won’t hate each other forever. I already know it.”

“Yeah, yeah. Whatever you say, Newt.”

#thomas #thomas x reader #thomas/reader #smoke and fire #SAF #tomuary #tom-uary #tommy month #thomas/reader smut #thomas x reader smut #thomas the maze runner #dylan o'brien #dylan obrien #dylan obrien x reader #dylan obrien/reader #dylan obrien x reader smut #dylan obrien/reader smut #dylan obrien thomas #dylan obrien the maze runner

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sirensmojo · 3 years

Text

"KINDRED", 4 - Thomas Shelby x Reader.

Warnings: Swearing, romance, violence, guns, drama, slight smut(“slight”?)

Word Count: 5k+

AN: When it’s a reader and Tommy scene, it’s Tommy POV.

❰ Previous Chapter

Tommy leaned backwards on his desk chair, a cigarette stuck in between his index and middle fingers. He was looking at the ceiling as if its colour brought to him answers to the multiple questions that had been clouding his mind lately.

Since the day he and Y/N kissed, he noticed she had been avoiding him. She didn’t even send him the weekly book she usually dropped at the office.

He didn’t understand her, and each time he tried to put back together the pieces to get a clear view of her character, the memories of the smell of her hair brought him somewhere else. And whenever he would dare to close his eyes too long, he would taste her lips again.

Even if she chose to stay away from him, he entered her world once and appreciated it so greatly it had printed into his spirits, like a hand in wet cement.

He allowed himself to shift his thoughts to Mosley from time to time, the d-day was approaching and with it, the time he’ll take the lead of the British fascist party.

(...)

The only way Lizzie found to see her husband these days was to come back in business as Tommy’s secretary. He told her she wouldn’t have to work when they got their daughter, Ruby, but he was rarely home, and when he was, his mind was elsewhere.

Even after promising to let her in sometimes, she struggled the most to read him, but despite all, she was deeply in love with him. She had to make the effort and reach for him.

He didn’t agree with her taking back her job at first and she knew exactly why, as being responsible for her having a baby, he had to take care of her, at least he felt like he did. He was undeniably a murderer, cut-throat gangster, but he had convictions and rules to stick to.

This morning began as normal as any other for the Shelby company limited, Lizzie was occupied with papers as Tommy locked himself in his office.

The door opened, Lizzie’s gaze instantly got up, searching for who might that be. When her gaze met the figure, her jaw dropped. ‘Not again’ she thought. This scene reminds her of the time May Carleton came in here only to entice her Tommy.

She knew he didn’t owe her anything, but he could’ve waited at least a day or two before calling another woman. Not even twenty-four hours earlier Tommy was fucking her in some alley in the cold, probably thinking about a woman he knew before France. But he said he was fucking her, Lizzie, and not his lost teenage lover, even if she knew better.

Tommy and his cock.

That May Carleton was walking so confidently in front of Lizzie, she probably thought she was the one to own Tommy’s cock. If only she knew. She glared at her so strongly that May avoided looking at her at all costs.

The woman that just passed the door didn’t look her way, too occupied walking straight to the doors of Tommy’s office with the arrogance of an army.

Lizzie’s eyes went from her seemingly very expensive shoes, up her green pants suit in which pockets she kept a hand, to her suit jacket that fell perfectly on her waist as the end of which was drawing the woman’s hips. Her leather belt marked, even more, her waist and its golden details matched the imposing blue pearls necklace along with the large same looking earrings.

As soon as the woman entered the room, the atmosphere switched, her figure called the eyes, not only due to her ostentatious jewellery collection but also by the woman’s charismatic aura. Even the clicking sound her heels made on the hard ground was full of power. Anyone could hear the confidence in each of her steps, which made Lizzie gasp.

As a moth attracted to light, Tommy got out of his office, a cigarette hanging on his lips. He pressed a shoulder on the door frame, his eyes fixed on the woman walking towards him.

He was indeed waiting for her.

His deep blue eyes weren’t examining the woman’s form in an enticed way, he was solely looking at her face, a thing that made Lizzie’s heart ached because she understood there might be more than sexual attraction between them.

Lizzie knew her husband. From the way he dawdled on the woman’s face to the little waving of his shoulders, she just knew.

The atmosphere again had changed, Lizzie was now oppressed by their two presences, the warm and powerful one of the stranger and the usual cold and disconcerting one of her husband, one completing the other.

As her heart didn’t want to admit it yet, a burning look was exchanged by the two pairs of eyes, and confirmed the obvious her brain already knew, Thomas had found his match, and it wasn’t her.

(...)

Tommy took off his shoulder from the door frame and stood straight as he humidified his lips. The librarian walked to him with her usual unreadable face and when she was close enough, she grabbed his cigarette off his fingers taking her time to make their skin touch as much as she could. Her eyes were still deeply in Tommy’s as millions of sparks animated the tips of his fingers.

The man coughed and turned to Lizzie, motioning his hand to the woman behind the desk, in an attempt to ignore the sparks. “Mrs Y/L/N, meet my wife, Lizzie. Lizzie, it’s Mrs Y/L/N, the librarian I work with at the House Of Commons.” He had sensed the intense look of his wife since Y/N came closer to him.

“Mrs Shelby! I am so honoured to meet you, I heard about your typewriting skills, writing eyes closed, eh? I could never.” Y/N gave a warm smile to Lizzie that squinted her eyes in anticipation. His wife didn’t believe in what the librarian just told and he was sure Y/N knew it too.

“Yeah? Well, I never heard of you.” Lizzie spitted.

“It’s because you don’t keep company with my people.” She had the audacity to take a puff on the cigarette she stole earlier from Tommy looking his wife straight in the eyes.

Even if Y/N’s voice was calm and solemn, it was clear it was an attack. The implication made Lizzie gritted her teeth as she got up and joined them. Tommy rubbed a hand on his own face knowing exactly what she was going to do.

She stood behind the librarian. “And what business do you have here in Birmingham if you work in London?”

“You’re husband,” Y/n responded, not even turning to her. She bypassed Tommy and opened the door’s office before disappearing behind them.

Lizzie followed her with her eyes before looking up at her husband. “The fuck is she doing here? Are you going to fuck her, Thomas?”

“No, Lizzie. Am not going to fuck her.” He responded exhaling deeply.

“Yeah, take me for an fucking idiot.” She walked to the desk to grab her hat & coat. “That’s all you’re good for anyway. You fucked all Birmingham and now London, huh?” She sneered before shaking her head walking to the exit.

“Lizzie.” He called, but the woman had already closed the door.

Tommy raised his brows and sighed before turning to the office where he marked a pause. It was another type of storm he had to face now. He finally opened the door and got in, only to find Y/N seated behind his desk, in his chair.

“Tommy Shelby, OBE, what a pleasure to meet your family.”

“It was quite a show you put out there.” He closed behind him.

When he turned back at the room, she was walking toward him, but she already was pretty near.

“So you fucked all Birmingham already, hum? Trying to expand your activities in London?” Y/N leaned on him, she was so close he could smell her breath and he wondered what was her fucking problem. She ignored him for days after they kissed and here she was again, pushing him to the edges. It was almost as if it was a game for her. And if it was, she was winning all the damn rounds.

“And you? What’s with the attitude?”

“What are you talking about.” She took a step back.

“You have been busy this week, eh?” Tommy walked to the counter and poured whiskey in two glasses.

“Well, the man you have your little brother watching, he talks.” She loosely let out. “The bookmaker Billy Grade, the one that conducts the football betting business” She paused looking at Tommy’s surprised expression. “He doesn’t like Arthur.”

“To who?” Was the simple question he needed an answer to.

“I made moves with Mosley so, yes, it had been a busy week, Thomas.”

At the revelation, Tommy’s eyes squinted. If there was one thing he learnt with Grace was to make sure his feelings weren’t a shackle to business.

“I’m not betraying you, no need for these wrinkles at the corner of your eyes. But you gotta know he’s offered me the South.” She went to the counter and took the glasses before sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk, one cup in her hand, the other she put on one of the numerous files covering the desk.

Tommy went sitting in his armchair. He lit a cigarette and held one to the woman that declined.

“Only like to take yours.” She gave as an explanation.

“How come he offered you the south?” He ignored her comment.

“North’s Mc Cavern’s, Middle’s yours, South’s vacant. But I have another plan for the South, and you might agree with me as well.” A rictus took place at the corner of her lips, as Tommy looked at her, curious. “Mr Solomons. I know he wrote you that he’s still alive.”

Tommy’s lids fluttered a couple times, he didn’t say anything. How could she know so much all the time? Was she listening to him or something? He for a second thought it might be her spying on him on the phone but this idea went away almost immediately.

She wasn’t Grace.

“He and I are great friends. Not as if he really has any, but do I?” She muttered utterly to herself.

Tommy coughed and leaned back on his chair, making himself comfortable.

“What’s with you, Tommy?” Asked the librarian, and he himself couldn’t put a finger on what was going on. It was always that way when she was around, but everything intensified when they leaned their breath as one and connected together.

His mind was so full of thoughts that had nothing to do with business that it was hard for him to concentrate. But for some reason, he just couldn’t push those thoughts aside.

He wanted her, he yearned for her to touch him the way she did that night, to intertwine their fingers together again and forget about Mosley for an instant, just one. Tommy humidified his lips again as raising his eyebrows, it was like his lips were always dry or incomplete. Her lips belonged on his. He raised his gaze to her in distress.

“You want to come to me house, Tommy? Again?” Her voice resonated in his head, her words taking him by surprise.

“Huh?”

“Have a drink or two, meet my cat...” She went on, looking intently at his soul hiding behind his icy blue iris.

He didn’t recognize her, but did he even know her? It seems not. Every time they meet, she puts another mask on. Somewhere in his soul, he believed it wasn’t a good idea, that thing they shared. But he knew he couldn’t turn away and break the partnership. Not now. Not only could she be hard to beat if they turned to enemies, but he also needed her, she was part of his business now. She was too precious an ally for him to withdraw from the deal.

As he didn’t respond, she drank from her cup, finishing its countenance in one go. “I’ll ask Arthur then...replace his Linda.” She added looking up to the ceiling innocently.

“The fuck did you say?” He hustled to spit as watching her without blinking.

Her gaze went back on Tommy, a playful gleam animating her pupils.

“What do you say?” She sent him back the ball. It was indeed a game for her, and he knew once again she would be the winner because he wouldn’t say no.

He tried to escape her game by coughing it away and smoked his cigarette. “How are you going to bring up Alfie Solomons with Mosley?” He went back on business, but the woman didn’t seem ready yet to give up.

She got up and grabbed the phone with one hand as the other was dialling a number. She sat at the corner of the desk, turning toward the Shelby brother and the phone. Tommy watched her movements closely, curious about how she was going to handle him dismissing her offer.

He couldn’t even hide the fact her stubbornness did something to him, even if he repressed any desire for her. It was as if they were the principal characters in the regency era drama he ended up devouring as it was the book Y/N was reading on their first meeting.

He was so deep in thought he didn’t hear the librarian asking the cable woman to put her in connection with the individual she intended to reach.

“Yeah, Arthur, it’s me. I wonder if you would wa--” Tommy had heard enough. He hung up the line and fixed the phone for what feels like centuries, slowly realizing what his reaction meant.

The Y/E/C eyes woman remained silent, a silence that felt heavy on Tommy’s conscience. He straightened back and leaned on the back of his chair, glancing at the ceiling.

He was done with those games. He couldn’t believe he dove into her crude farce head first, and now he had to face her because she had been staring at him the last minute.

“You’re a devil.” He let the words lazily slip between his lips.

“Call me Lilith.” She spiritedly exclaimed. Tommy’s eyes went to her face at that exact moment.

“So you’re jew, eh? That explains why you know Alfie, but contradicts the fact you and Mosley are close.” Tommy thought out loud. According to his memories, Lilith was a demon of the jew tradition, which led him to his conclusion.

The woman instantly smiled, seemingly very content about the Shelby head struggling to catch her.

“Fair enough.”

“You come to my house?”

“I was talking about the comparison.” He paused, looking at her blankly.

She sighed.

No doubt she was annoyed by Tommy’s behaviour, but she won way too much at their little game. It was about time Tommy won. It was unusual of him to be that shallow but it was their intimate space, so he didn’t care.

(...)

Gina couldn’t see anything when the abductors took her out of the car to lead her down some stairs into what she surmised to be a cellar, she already had a piece of cloth hiding her vision and one in her mouth, preventing her from screaming.

She was petrified and the fact the individuals didn’t say a word, neither during the ride nor once in the room didn’t help her. She could feel heavy drops of sweat rolling down her forehead as dried tears itched the corners of her eyes.

The place was colder than what she remembered a cellar to be. Flashes of her childhood coming back to her from time to time.

“THREE… TWO… ONE… ZERO. I’M COMING GINA!” Her cousin shouted from the kitchen where they last saw each other. The little girl used to come down in the cellar to hide when playing hide and seek with any member of her family, from her cousins to her father.

As her mother was severely ill, she couldn’t play with Gina, but her father always did. When not leading the believers to sing the praises of the Almighty at the local church, he was both a father and a mother to her.

Although her mother & herself loved each other more than anything, she soon stopped seeing her. When at first her father let Gina visit the room of her mother once a day, it decreased from once a week, to once a month to simply never.

Despite the child doggedly asking for her mother, he remained unyielding and managed to keep his daughter away from her mother for her own sake.

It was only when growing older and after the death of her mother that Gina understood her father’s demeanour. He was desperate not to let his daughter watch her mother die.

This time, the cellar didn’t feel familiar and it’s not a joyful feeling that resides in her. Her body reacting to the cold, she was shivering as goosebumps appeared at the same time as she heard footsteps coming her way. Her blood boiling like hot water, she struggled to breathe.

“Call her father.” Gina heard a female voice she had never heard before. She listened to footsteps receding before a whimper escaped her throat.

“Well, you heard the woman, let her talk.” The voice ordered. And just like that, her mouth got freed. “Go on.” The female voice seemed to address her directly.

“What do you want with my father?” She managed to say after she moved her jaws to get rid of the piece of cloth’s taste.

“He’s an old friend.”

“Can’t you just call like normal people instead of abducting his child?” Gina murmured, not totally relieved from the fear. She wanted to appear unmoved and plucked all the courage left in her to get an untroubled voice.

“I know you, Gina.” The voice started, getting closer. “You alright? You’re trembling.” Well, it seems like all the effort she put in wasn’t enough, her true emotions were discovered.

“You know me, huh? So you know as soon as you detach me I’ll assault you and spit right in your face, right?” She angrily let out, she didn’t accept to be defeated nor seen while being vulnerable and defenceless.

But it seems like the individual challenged her, because she heard someone pass behind her and loosen the cords holding back her hands. At the same moment, the piece of cloth blinding her fell on her collarbones.

Before her, stood straight a woman with a closed face, her facial traits weren’t aggressive, but in her eyes, Gina could swear she saw in there an untamed fire. Her brown eyes slid to a sitting white dog near the stranger, it looked like a wolf, even its huge size reminded her of the fierce beast she read about as a teenager.

It was ridiculous to see this situation unleashed the least probable memories of her youth into her mind as vividly as yesterday.

“Who are you? What do you want?” The woman before Gina mimicked her voice, a smile drawing on her lips. “They always ask the same questions.” She shrugged her shoulders seeing Gina’s surprised expression. The freshly Gray woman closed her mouth that was slightly open in an “o” shape and clenched her jaw.

“Well, I need your father to come here, in England. And you,” she tapped Gina’s end of nose, “you’re the thing that’ll make him travel the world all the way to Birmingham. To my greatest pleasure,” She patted her own chest before motioning to Gina, “and much to your displeasure.”

Gina didn’t even know what to say, she used the time the woman spent talking to massage her wrists as the cords were tied very tight. Her gaze dawdled on the woman in front of her, she was wearing a very long purple coat to which two buttons situated at the waist of its owner were closed. She also wore black lace gloves with ostentatious golden rings above the fabric. The diamonds of her rings were blue, matching her earrings. When the woman turned to the side to pat her dog’s head, Gina noticed she had braided her hair in a single braid that fell on her back.

The woman crouched down for her eyes to be at the same level as the dog’s ones, one of her hands scratching its head. “One single word and it attacks you, so you better behave.” She turned her head to Gina, warning her. The blonde woman glared at the other before glancing toward the dog in anticipation.

Y/N got back up and turned her back to Gina as she started to walk toward the stairs. “Get comfortable, it’s your new home for a few days.”

“What, you’re leaving me in this? With the dog?” She screamed at the Y/H/C haired woman.

“If I were you, I’d avoid screaming, Gina doesn’t like too loud noises.” She waved goodbye as answering without even glancing toward Gray.

“What?” Gina asked, confusion in her voice.

Y/N chuckled a bit before turning around, her index went from the dog to Gina, “Yeah, meet your twin.” She walked backwards a couple of seconds before turning back to the stairs and climbing them.

(...)

House Of Commons, London.

The door of Tommy’s office abruptly opened on an angry Michael.

The Shelby brother that was pouring himself some whisky glanced at his cousin. “Michael.” He welcomed.

“Where the fuck is my wife, Tommy?” Gray asked, frowning.

“What?” He squinted his eyes.

“Where. The. Fuck. Is. My. Wife.” Michael spitted each word, looking straight into his older cousin’s eyes.

Tom blinked a couple times, not understanding the request.

“Days ago when coming back from the fucking restaurant some fucking people took her.” The younger Gray calmed a bit, seeing that Tommy truly didn’t know what he was talking about.

“How did they look?” Tom asked, concerned. Even if Michael might have betrayed him, he was family still and anyone jeopardizing the life of a member of the Shelby clan or someone related to them should taste the sweet fondles of death’s fingers.

“Men in fucking black.” Michael started to pace up and down, both his hands passing over his face. “I’m getting mad, Tom, me head fucking all over the place...” He continued.

“Men, no women?” Tommy brows raised, he had to ask. He remembered the conversation he had with that librarian when she was telling him she thought Gina was the weakness and force of his cousin and that she might do something about it.

“No.” Michael stated firmly. Tommy’s tensed shoulders relaxed. “Or..” Tommy raised his brows. “I don’t know, Tom. Fuck.”

“We’re going to find her, Michael. Stay in your hotel room, stay put, near the phone, right?” The Shelbys' head tapped his cousin’s shoulder before leaving the office.

(...)

He stopped the car near the portals and got out, a cigarette hanging on his lips. Tommy walked the pointlessly long alley, by-passing a ton of fountains and trimmed bushes of different forms and shapes.

The fair distance gave him time to rethink everything that concerned Y/N and his relationship with her. If she truly was behind the disappearance of his cousin’s wife, he would have to deal with her, meaning going to war, which was far from the plan since he entered politics.

He knocked on the door without waiting any further once he joined the principal door. He was looking intently at the windows trying to see a silhouette through it or an ignited light of some sort, but nothing.

The door abruptly opened, making a loud noise and the figure of the librarian was to be seen. Tommy raised his hand to her face, pointing his gun at her, but when her body was fully visible thanks to the moon shining, he blinked, bewildered.

His eyes dropped on a Y/N only dressed with an emeraude lace nightgown. The top was all see-through, but it didn’t stop him from cocking the gun and hold it steady in between her eyebrows. Even though he was here because he suspected her to have turned her back to him, his body reacted a whole different way to the view. His heart started to pounder in his chest as a warmth suddenly took prisoner his upper body. He swallowed in an attempt to dismiss the feeling ready to burst out.

“Missing our start?” She let out, not even pretending to be scared or shook by the situation. As a matter of fact, in their second meeting, Tom indeed pulled a gun at her, how could he forget that. Nobody ever had the nerve to threaten him on his own doorsteps, but of course, she did.

“Where’s Gina?” He ignored she was half-naked along with her remark.

“What the fuck, Thomas?” One of her eyebrows raised in confusion. “What’s happened?”

Tommy switched the position of his fingers, putting his index right on top of the trigger to make known he knew she was lying.

As she felt the danger, the woman banged the door on Tom’s face and not even a second later, he heard bullets being fired as he saw holes drawing through the door. The time stopped, or at least everything appeared as slower.

He instinctively put his arms over his head and kneeled as other bullets were being fired, he managed his way to the wall of the mansion, staying down.

“Fucking hell, Y/N!” He shouted his lungs out, his ears whistling due to the bullets’ noise.

“Remember when I warned you, Thomas. You pull a gun, I shoot!” She accentuated the last part, her tone underlined by anger.

“Why did you take her?” He kept his head close to the wall as shaking it, trying to totally recover his hearing.

“You should’ve asked that when you could, Sergent Major.” She calmly stated.

Tommy could hear she was re-loading her gun.

He looked at the gravels under him and recognized the bullet belonging to a rifle. He frowned, wondering how come she got a rifle.

“No. Put down the rifle, I'm throwing me gun.” He said loudly before dropping his gun in the grass far away from him, his weapon made a muffled noise while encountering the ground.

He didn’t hear anything for a minute that seems to last hours. The night breeze came fondling his face, helping him to ease his breath as the silence made him fully recover his hearing.

The front door opened, and Y/N peeked through. Only one of her Y/E/C eyes was to be seen, and even if her pupil was dilated due to the adrenaline, her look seemed concerned. “Are you hurt?” She solemnly asked, she, as well, being out of breath.

Tommy shook his head on both sides before he managed to stand, helped by the wall.

“You mad woman.” He closed his eyes as taking a deep breath in, knowing she wouldn't try to kill him tonight. When he opened his eyes again, she was in front of him, barefoot on the gravel.

“Sorry… I tend to lose my shit when I’m in danger.” She placed the rifle hanging around her neck to her side, a hand holding it still.

“You weren’t. I wasn’t gonna fucking shot, just trying to scare you.”

“...Well you angered me.” She hesitated in even giving him an answer. She finally decided she didn't need the rifle anymore and went placing it against the wall.

“Not fear, eh?” He teased, and she shook her head as a response.

“Why the fuck did you take Gina away? Michael’s all over the place, he even came to me. The boy’s fucking losing it.”

“Well, firstly, he deserved a little reminding he was still a boy as you correctly underlined,” she raised her brows looking at him, “secondly, after further research, I found it I know her father. Long story short, he’s the only one to be able to deal with her uncle if we don’t want any blood spilt.”

“Fucking was about to spill me gut on your doorstep, the fuck you care about spilt blood, Y/N?” He furrowed his brows as agitating one of his hands, motioning to the ground beneath their feet.

“Yeah,” she acquiesced, “not me that cares about fucking family. It’s you.”

That’s when he realized how serious she took their partnership. When he thought she was solely doing what fitted her best, she indeed took into consideration Tommy's convictions. She took seriously the fact he didn't want the family to be hurt. And although he ranged on her side regarding scaring Michael a bit to make him realize something, he never thought of Y/N to be tough enough to act with as much strategy as ruthlessness. She definitely outdid him in this case.

This sudden realisation aroused something in him. She cared. Even if the care she gave was nonetheless peculiar and typical to her character, she did what she could with what she had right? And right now she was working with him with as much resilience and fierceness as she would do with her own organisation.

“If it was up to me, fucking bullets to the head for both of ‘em and we done.” She dismissively worded as looking afar. “Where’s your gun?” She lazily looked back at him.

Tommy hesitated a short period of time before he grabbed her wrist and pulled her against himself. She didn’t push him away as he neared his face near her, she was the one sealing their lips together. This time, none of them were eager for the other, their kiss was light, soft and pure, contrasting with the chaotic situation they put themselves in.

The blue-eyed man slipped a hand on her back, fondling her skin above the piece of cloth covering her body while she reached for the button of his pants under his coat.

The atmosphere switched, not even seconds earlier it was love talking, now it was a whole another emotion ruling them.

Tom started to walk toward the door, forcing her to walk backwards. When she understood what he intended to do she murmured a soft “No.” and he opened his eyes darkened by desire and urge, looking into hers that were screaming for sex.

A smile grew on her lips as she went sticking her back to the nearest wall, her fingers strongly gripping on the man’s tie. He didn’t break the eye contact and joined her, flattening one of his hands on the cold wall. The warmth of his longing for the woman added to the coldness of the night were mixing together so well he felt a little dizzy.

He couldn’t think about how often he imagined them during their first time or how often he tried to picture Y/N’s curves in his head but his body somehow knew how much he wanted this. His hands were dawdling on any portion of her figure he could find, gulping each piece that was giving to him as if she was the first woman he’d ever touched.

Each kiss enticed him a bit more and whenever he closed his eyes he could literally see fireworks exploding everywhere in him. And whenever he would open them, he would find Y/N looking intently at him, her expression revealing everything she could never tell him, her feelings for him as well as her deepest fear, frustrations & beyond, her eyes being the messenger of the immensity of a soul, to another.

She quickly got to his bum she previously teased with one knee before reaching for his length.

Her cold fingers struck it a few times before she came aligning him with the distress for feeling him inside.

Once he was perfectly aligned, she released him and reunited her lips to his, where they belonged, giving him the green light. He thrust slowly at first, letting her some time to get used to his size. She murmured a low “Tommy...”, her legs encircling his hips as he grabbed one of them firmly. He was keeping her as close to him as possible, making sure their bodies were as connected as their souls were. He ultimately began to come and go, increasing his pace as time passed by.

Her high pitched moans came directly to his ears, the best sounds he’s heard out of his entire life without a doubt.

Following Chapter ❱

#peaky blinders #peaky blinder fanfic #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby x reader #tommy shelby x y/n #thomas shelby x y/n

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apiratewhopines · 3 years

Text

I’m going to alternate artwork so we get leather-clad Killian and fancy dress up Killian.

Midnight

Chapter 3 — The Godfather

Summary: In which our heroine accepts the finer things in life

Chapter 3 of 7 on AO3

“He gave her things that she was needin’

He gave her a home built of gold and steel

A diamond car with platinum wheels”

-Minnie The Moocher, Cab Calloway

The creeping pace her warden set was nerve-racking. She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or if every eye in the place was watching their slow procession through the ballroom. Finally exiting the room, they paused in the hallway and Emma said resignedly, “Let’s get this over with.”

“I’ve had my eye on you from the moment you walked in,” the other man commented, nodding to passersby with no hint of distress. “You should have known better than to think you could escape unnoticed.”

“Well, I thought if I left quietly, no one would be the wiser,” she replied, smiling at him with a hopeful kind of chagrin. “You can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Don’t apologize, my dear. There are three of us in rebellion against this entertainment if you want to call it that. I think I may turn down all future invitations from Regina if this is the torture we will be subject to…” Grabbing her arm softly, he started steering them through the throng still attempting to find a place in the ballroom.

She was shocked they weren’t heading to the front entrance. The man, who had yet to introduce himself, was leading her down a back hallway. Moments later, he paused in front of a closed door. “You do play bridge, yes?”

Emma hadn’t played the game since she was a teenager staying with Granny, but as usual, the lessons the older woman taught her were going to save her from a terrible fate. “Yes, though I’m a bit rusty. But why me?”

“You’re charming, you’re bored, and you have the face of someone who wouldn’t trump your partner’s ace,” he explained with a breezy smile. Placing his finger to his lips to hush any further conversation, he pressed an ear to the door and then gave two quick raps against the frame. Taking one more second, he then opened it and ushered her in.

Upon entering, she saw two occupants huddled by the fireplace, which blazed happily with a roaring fire in opposition to the warm night. Immediately, his pause made sense as she noticed a faint smudge of lipstick on the smooth skin of the man’s face.

“Lancelot, Guinevere, allow me to introduce Madam—I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”

Scrambling, she said the first thing that popped into her mind. “Jones.”

“Ah, Madam Jones, I’m Sidney Glass, your knight in shining armor for the evening. This is Guinevere Soberano and Lancelot du Lac, your fellow insurrectionists.” Her knight joked before adding, “Lance is the most dangerous man in the room, so watch yourself.”

Seeing how the tall, handsome man took his time sizing her up, she had a feeling she knew what made him dangerous. The fashionable lines of his tuxedo did little to hide his muscular build, and while he wasn’t the sexiest man she’d met that evening, she knew if they had met on any other night of her life, he would have been. She could tell by how his eyes continued to seek her out that he wasn’t immune to her charms either. It should have made her feel better considering she’d been in the same outfit for nearly two days and her hair was still wet from her dash through the thunderstorm. Instead, it made her feel tired.

Taking a seat with trepidation, she tried to hide her feelings of discomfort. She was the one who ran when offered a cozy landing place, so now she needed to play the hand she was dealt. Literally. Watching as Sidney took over as dealer, she asked, “What are we playing for? Bragging rights?”

“How about our normal stakes? Five dollars a point?”

Eyes wide, she calculated if she remembered the game correctly, there would be thousands of dollars exchanging hands tonight. If only a fraction of that money came her way, she may be able to get out of this dress and fill up her tank so she could hit the road and resume her search. She refused to think about what she would do if she didn’t win. Granny had been a cutthroat player, so she had more than enough practice.

Lance settled in as her partner, his eyes never leaving her face as the group silently arranged their cards and planned their strategies. Her heart racing, Emma mumbled, “Two spades.”

And the game began.

Hours later, they were in the hole and she couldn’t help wishing Sidney or the other woman was her partner. Lance seemed much more interested in flirting with her than winning, and if she weren’t sure it would get her thrown out, she would have kicked him under the table for screwing up her chance to turn her luck around. Not to mention the fact that with every suggestive exchange, Guinevere’s eyes grew a little bit colder. She had a feeling the woman would make a formidable enemy.

The door to their hideaway opened to admit her former neighbor, his eyes as unnerving by firelight as they had been in the brighter gleam of the ballroom. The ever-present smirk was there in full force as he made his way to their table and planted himself between Lance and Guinevere. “Darling, why don’t you introduce me to your newest recruit?”

“Madam Jones, this is my husband Arthur Soberano, the only man on the planet who enjoys these little parties. Arthur, this is Madam Jones, a woman in need of a better bridge partner.”

“It’s so hard to concentrate on cards sometimes,” Lance murmured, his heated glance never leaving her face so no one had any doubts about what was distracting him.

Arthur observed the exchange, and the subsequent reactions, with the expression of a man who finally found his silver lining. She hoped it was catching. “Jones, eh? Would you be one of the Rhode Island Joneses?”

Pasting a bright smile on her face, she demurred. “No, but I’ve heard they’re lovely people.”

“You’re American, correct?”

“What gave it away? My abysmal accent?”

“Something like that,” Arthur responded with a smile. “So if not Rhode Island, what Jones clan do you hail from?”

“Oh, Jones is my married name. My husband is from Cambridge.”

“Of course! I should have known. I ran into Baron Jones a few years ago in Budapest, and he spoke of an American girl. How is he? Is he here tonight?”

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, because of course there would be a Baron Jones and of course this enigmatic man would know him, she stared at her cards and hoped she sounded more convincing than she felt when she said, “No, no. He’s still in Budapest. He wasn’t feeling well enough for transatlantic travel. You know, the old trouble flaring up.”

Tsking with a hint of amusement, Arthur narrowed his eyes. “That’s too bad. Guinevere, we really must make a trip there soon. Beautiful city. Tell me, Madam Jones, did they ever finish the metro Line 1?”

For the love of all that was holy, would the man never stop with the questions? “You know how construction is…the roads are still a mess here and there.”

She knew by the way his body shifted that she had misstepped. She wasn’t sure what trap he laid, but she walked right into it. To add insult to injury, the final hand of the night went into their loss column.

Lance shook his head in defeat and pulled out his wallet. “I really must apologize, Madam Jones. I’m usually a much better player. You’ll have to let me make amends to you. Perhaps lunch tomorrow? What’s your favorite place?”

“That depends, Lance. How much money am I out tonight? I will exact revenge in corresponding measure.”

Sidney piped in with a gleeful laugh. “Four thousand dollars from each of you. Not a bad haul, if I do say so myself. But bypassing the awful concert makes the win priceless.”

Her head swam with the figure, trying to ignore the way Arthur was circling the room like a caged lion and wondering how plausible it was for a baroness not to carry cash. Surely, the nobility class had people to handle this kind of thing for them. “I’m not sure I have that much on me. I hope you’ll accept my IOU. Has anyone seen my bag?”

She saw the look Guinevere and Sidney exchanged and her stomach dropped. They wouldn’t let it go. Perhaps looking for her non-existent purse would allow her to sneak out.

“Is this it, Madam Jones?”

“Yes, thank you.” Turning around, she saw a beaded clutch she’d never laid eyes on before in Arthur’s extended hand. She hadn’t stolen a single thing in her life, and she wasn’t thrilled to start now, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Opening it, she found a wad of cash that looked like it could bankroll a small country for a year. Shocked, her gaze flew to meet Arthur’s and he winked before departing the room.

—

No matter how hard she tried to shake him, Lance would not leave her alone. Subsequently, everyone in the entourage hung on like they had nothing better to do than tag along while she flitted around the club trying to lose them. Finally, the evening started breaking up. Large groups of people gave each other air kisses and made plans to meet at various houses for brunch the next day. Freedom was within reach if she could only make it out the front door.

They bid goodbye to their hostess, who was high on finding the supposed party crasher, an older woman they dragged from the downstairs powder room and tossed out into the night, still swearing she didn’t know anyone named Neal and claiming she was the Duchess of Longbourn.

Emma thought a silent apology to the woman and hoped karma graded on a curve.

“Allow me to wait with you until your car pulls around,” Lance said, offering his arm to help her down the steps.

“I’d hate to trouble you,” Emma ground out, her voice deepened with the effort of holding in a groan of frustration. “My chauffeur is habitually late.”

“Then I should give you a ride,” Lance countered. He had yet to let go of her arm, and she was afraid she would have to cut it off to make a clean break. “Where are you staying?”

Having no clue of the lodging situation in Misthaven, she worried about another trap under Arthur’s expectant stare. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

“The Ritz,” he immediately countered.

“Right in one! But really, I’d rather wait for my car.” When the words left her mouth, the familiar lines of a black BMW cruised down the street slowly like the driver was looking for something. Or someone. Panicked, she flashed her new admirer a dazzling smile. “On second thought, let’s get out of here.”

As Lance handed her into his sports car, she heard Guinevere’s voice muttering to Sidney, “We don’t know anything about her. She came here all alone.”

“I notice she’s not leaving alone,” Arthur replied, smile widening as he caught her eye through the window and gave her a jaunty wave.

By jumping into a car with a virtual stranger for the second time that evening, she avoided one issue but created another. Her time was running out because this charade was doomed to fail when they arrived at the hotel and there wasn’t a room for Baroness Jones. She’d have to get rid of him in the parking lot.

Unsurprisingly, considering how her night was going, it was easier said than done. Lance appeared to be a gentleman if you overlooked his tendency to have affairs with other men’s wives and wouldn’t hear of dropping her off at the entrance. Throwing his keys toward the valet stand, he made his way to the concierge desk over her protests that she had some things to handle in the lobby before heading to her room.

She closed her eyes as she heard him say, “Checking into Baroness Jones’s room.”

Here it came. The boom.

“Of course, sir. Will that be all?”

Opening one eye, she watched as the employee handed over the room card. This couldn’t be right. She must be trapped in some nightmare where her pain and humiliation hung like a knife above her head, and the anticipation of the stabbing turned out to be worse than the violent act itself.

Laughing with fake merriment, she snatched the card from Lance before he could pocket it and said forcefully, “Thank you for a lovely evening. Good night.”

“My mother always said to see a woman to her door, or my job wasn’t done.”

Unable to hide her exasperation one second longer, she asked, “Don’t you know when to go home?”

“No.” With a broad smile, he held the elevator door open while she entered and wished for death. In hindsight, her original plan of sleeping on a park bench seemed like a real winner compared to this slow torture. She wouldn’t allow herself to think about the warm bed and warmer smile she had also turned down.

Tired, annoyed, and pining for her original driver of the evening, she didn’t even try to maintain a conversation with the man beside her, her head filled with dread at the idea she was about to open the door to a hotel room occupied by the real Baroness Jones. With the resigned stride of a prisoner walking the green mile, she reached the room slower than the situation called for and leaned against the door facing Lance. With a stony expression, she said pointedly, “Look, right to the door. You did your mother proud and can go home and sleep peacefully.”

“What? No nightcap?”

“No, absolutely not. I don’t need a mother to tell me inviting a man into my hotel room in the middle of the night is a bad idea. Go home.”

Laughing, he reached out and pushed her hair away from her face. “You’re magnificent.”

“I’m also married,” she bit out, barely resisting the urge to slap his hand away. There was something riveting about a man with an overabundance of confidence, but she refused to be charmed. If she were going to give in to any urges, she would have done it with the person behind Door Number One.

“So I’ve heard. At least make sure the card works. Those things are notoriously fickle, like most wives I’ve met.”

Chuckling despite herself, she swiped the card against the reader, grateful to hear the lock disengage in the quiet hallway. “There. Good night.”

Before he could say or do anything else, she slipped into the room and clicked the door firmly back in place. She tiptoed through the suite, not daring to turn on the lights while she looked for any trace someone else was in the room. Her search coming up empty, she reached over and flooded the bedroom with light.

The king-size bed looked heavenly. Giggling, she decided to make the most of this temporary reprieve. She dropped her clothes in a pile and ran to the bathroom, happy to find it as luxurious as the rest of the rooms in the suite. Turning the water all the way to hot, she allowed the steamy spray to wash away the hurt, the hopelessness, and the hysteria.

She stepped out of the shower an hour later, eyes red-rimmed and body weak with fatigue. Not even bothering to dry off, she collapsed in the bed and fell into a sleep plagued with blue eyes and black cars.

—

The sound of the antique telephone ringing penetrated the fog in her brain as the last strands of sleep broke. Startled, Emma glanced down at her nude form and immediately looked beside her to see if she was alone. Her dreams of the previous night didn’t fade quickly, and the vivid image of the Captain and his wonderful stubble made her ache.

Groaning as memory replaced fantasy, she plopped back against the mattress and grabbed one of the nearly two dozen pillows haphazardly strewn across the bed to cover her head in an attempt to drown out the noise.

It wasn’t really her hotel room, so she probably shouldn’t answer it anyway.

Unfortunately, the caller didn’t know she was an imposter and seemed determined to reach the room’s occupant. She picked up the receiver and pulled it under the pillow to join her. In a groggy voice she asked, “What?”

The chirpy voice of a hotel employee responded, “Good morning, Baroness Jones. Your luggage has arrived.”

“From Boston?” That didn’t make any sense. She’d pawned her last remaining possessions less than forty-eight hours ago, but unless she packed a boomerang in the pocket of her favorite jeans, she wasn’t sure what they were doing in Misthaven.

“I’m not sure, madam. The delivery driver only mentioned it was for the baroness. It should be arriving at your room momentarily.”

As if summoned by magic, there was a knock and she hung up the phone while trying to wrap herself in the thick comforter. Dragging the ends of the blanket like a train behind her, she threw open the door and felt her eyes widen at the sight greeting her. Lining the hallway was a parade of hotel employees carrying a few pieces of luggage each.

In mute shock, she moved out of the way and the group started piling the bags in the living room of the suite. When the final trunk was laid in the corner by the wall of windows overlooking the town, she stood staring unblinkingly at the head bellhop.

“Will there be anything else, Baroness?”

“No, I think this is quite enough.”

“Very well.”

The group seemed hesitant to depart, and she did a quick check to make sure her makeshift toga hadn’t slipped. Finding everything was as it should be, reason soaked through her dazed brain and she said, “Oh, the tip!”

“No, madam. Your chauffeur took care of it already. He wanted to know if you’d be needing the car today. It’s beautiful weather out.”

“My chauffeur took care of the tip and wants to know if I need the car…” she echoed back, trying to see if the words made more sense if she was the one saying them. No. No such luck. She was going mad. That was the only explanation. Or maybe the Captain wasn’t all he seemed to be and he had drugged her and this was simply a hallucination. Noticing the flock of bellhops was waiting patiently for her response, she smiled benignly and said, “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

A voice called out from the doorway, “And what about breakfast, Baroness?”

The hotel employees filed out, leaving her and her unexpected visitor alone. Pulling the comforter more tightly around herself, she hissed, “Arthur. It was you.”

“What was me, my dear?”

“The money, the room, the clothes, the chauffeur. Does Baron Jones even exist, or did you make him up?”

“I like to think of him as more of a group effort. You provided the inspiration; I provided the title. Seeing you in all your lost girl glory last night gave me an idea.”

“From the moment you looked at me, I had an idea you had an idea. I’m not interested.”

Chuckling, he tossed his hat and jacket across a nearby chair and sank into the couch. “I’m sure there is a robe or something a little less linen closet in one of these suitcases. I’ll close my eyes while you look if you’d like.”

“I think I’ll stay over here.” Where it’s safe.

“You have nothing to fear from me, dear. I’m here to make a proposal. One that will be mutually beneficial, I hope,” he drawled, picking a piece of fluff off his pants. He continued to avert his eyes, which she found strange since he stopped by to proposition her over breakfast apparently. “This is only the tip of the iceberg. I can guarantee you’ll never have to worry about money again.”

“Still not interested. You know the way out.”

“Come on, Baroness. Why don’t you slip into something more comfortable and hear me out? I promise it’s nothing like what you think.”

“Arthur, when Little Red Riding Hood spots long, gray whiskers, it’s ridiculous to keep insisting you’re the grandmother,” she retorted, moving carefully toward the nearest bag so she didn’t accidentally flash him. Pulling out a shirt at random, she riffled through the case until she found a pair of shorts as well. Scrambling to the bathroom, she called out over her shoulder. “Go huff and puff somewhere else.”

“I guess that means I’m the big bad wolf,” he said with a smile as he moved to trail after her. When she slammed the door in his face, he raised his voice and added, “I’ve certainly been called worse. Tell me, what was your impression of Lance?”

“I think neither of you takes no for an answer very well,” she mumbled as she pulled on the shirt and stared at herself in the mirror. What bizarre alternate universe had she stumbled into, and how in the world was she going to return to reality. Talking to her reflection, she said, “You’re Emma Swan. You’re not a baroness. Killian Jones is not your husband. You are not going to shack up with Lance or Arthur.”

“Nice pep talk, but if I may be so bold as to suggest a different path,” her visitor interrupted from the other side of the door. “You see, my old friend Lancelot and my wife think they are in love.”

“That’s very cozy but not my problem.”

“I’d like to pay you to make it your problem, Emma Swan. Nice name, by the way. Last night was the first time since their affair started that I thought there might be a ray of hope. The whole time Lance was flirting with you, my wife was fighting tears.”

Rolling her eyes, she snapped open the door and was satisfied to see him lose his balance. “Who won?”

“I plan to, and I’d like you to be on my team. I just need you to keep his attention long enough for Guin to come to her senses.”

Moving past him, she picked up her discarded dress from the prior evening and grabbed the laundry bag out of the nearby closet. “Why don’t you punch him and be done with it?”

“He’s the top man at our boxing club. And besides, the last thing I need is to drive her further into his arms by making him a martyr.” He reached over and placed his hand on her arm, stilling her frantic movements. “Please. At least hear me out.”

Meeting his gaze for the first time since he entered the room, she observed, “You really love her, don’t you?”

“Yes. She’s not the only one who made mistakes. I need your help to make this right. And it might work out well for you too, you know. Lance’s family makes a superior income from a very inferior champagne. He’s no baron, but he does have the bank account of one.”

“I think you need a lawyer, not another homewrecker.”

“I’ll never get a divorce. Come on, Emma. We’re having a party at my estate in the Enchanted Forest. Come out this weekend and give it a go. I’ll pay you fifty thousand to show up and another fifty if this harebrained scheme works.”

“I… I’m not sure…”

“Am I upsetting some other plans? Do you have another offer?”

Thinking of black leather jackets and pie, she smiled wistfully. Shaking herself, she tried to focus on the fact that a hundred grand would pay back what Neal had stolen from Granny and leave enough for her to put a down payment on a place in the city. “Yes, I think I do. But fine, I’ll play along through the end of the weekend. Then I’m out regardless of what happens.”

“Fair enough. I’ll let Guin know I ran into you and invited you to join the party,” he said with a grin. If he had a mustache, she was sure he’d be twirling it.

Before they could discuss any other details, there was another knock at the door. With an exasperated expression, Emma asked her companion, “What now?”

Putting his hands up in a placating gesture, Arthur assured her, “Hey, this one isn’t me.”

Yanking open the door, she saw an enormous bouquet of red roses. She took the flowers with both hands as Arthur cocked his eyebrow in silent question and pulled out the card. “‘If I had a single flower for every time I think about you, I could walk forever in my garden. -Lance.’ Huh. I rather resent that. The note to Guin just said, ‘So glad we met.’”

Notes:

For those who were wondering about Arthur’s trap, the Budapest subway is one of the oldest in the world and the line he mentioned was completed in 1896.

The quote on Lancelot’s card is from Claudia Adrienne Grandi.

@teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @stahlop @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @klynn-stormz

18 notes · View notes

agustdef · 4 years

Text

I Found You

Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Hoseok x Doctor!Reader.

Genre: One Night Stand to Lovers; Fluff; Angst; Smut.

Word Count: 25.9K

Warning: Angsty. Language. Sexual activities. Daddy kink. Mild mention of pain within pleasure.

Rating: 18+.

Banner Maker: @httpangelicjimin is the lovely human who dealt with me changing my banner and being willing to change the title on this one when I thought to use it for a story I’d pulled at of my ass at that exact moment.

Beta Reader: @mindays is the sweetest bean in the world who betas all my stuff and not only corrects things, but makes me feel like I’m not just writing trash.

YN just wanted a weekend of peace and doing nothing. She’d spent a week doing twelve–hour shifts at the hospital and despite doing her best to take breaks she was drained. So, when one of the other doctors said they needed to swap their three–day weekend for one she had two weeks later she jumped at the chance.

It was like the universe was on her side.

So, she’d spent Friday sleeping and eating. Somehow, she’d even managed to get in some yoga, which made her body feel like it was on cloud nine. All the tension and stress of being on her feet melting away. It was just what she needed.

And she planned to spend her Friday night the same way. Surrounded by snacks as she watched the k–drama Goblin from the comfort of her bed and planned to order dinner as soon as the two leads finally confessed. She was so enthralled with the scene playing out – despite seeing it a million times – that she didn’t even notice the door to her bedroom open and her roommate enter.

It was just as the moment she was waiting for was to happen that she was alerted.

“What are you doing?” Beau asked, well shouted.

Startled, YN whipped her head around to stare at the male, eyes wide and chest heaving. Her heart felt like it was going to jump from her chest.

“What the fuck Beau?” YN said.

All she got was laughter and him plopping down onto her bed, obstructing the view of her TV. It’s when YN tried to push him to the side that she realized the moment had passed and the scene moved on to something else. Her nostrils flared and she glared at Beau, reaching out to slap his arm but hitting his breast instead as he tried to dodge.

“Ow,” Beau whined, swatting her back.

YN slapped his hand before he could though and stuck out her tongue.

“Ow my ass. You know that’s my favorite,” she mumbled.

Beau stuck out his tongue as well, his hand rubbing the assaulted boob. “Yes, that you’ve seen like three times this month alone.”

“And that matters because?”

“Because you can wait to see it again and we are going out to a party at the tattoo shop and you have to get dressed.”

The expression of annoyance on YN’s face morphed to that of confusion as she stared her roommate down. She reached up pushing his long, curly hair out of the way to press her hand against his forehead. It felt normal, which couldn’t possibly be right.

“We? We are doing what now?” she asked.

Beau rolled his eyes and rose from the bed.

“We are going to Yoonie’s shop and enjoying a tattoo party. You haven’t gone out to do anything in almost two months and you can’t use too tired as an excuse. I want you to go. Yoongi wants you to go. And you know it won’t be crazy, so you’re going.”

Naturally, YN had about twelve different arguments for why she shouldn’t go out, but then she saw Beau pout and something in her black soul couldn’t say no. She’d been impervious to his charms once upon a time, but now she was mush. It was ridiculous.

Also, she wouldn’t put it past him to Facetime Yoongi who’d smile at her one time and make her crack in an instant. Her roommate’s boyfriend was a kindred spirit and made her soft, so saying no to him felt like committing a crime or something.

How she’d attracted people who could weaken her defenses she was unsure. But she guessed they were nice to have around.

Groaning, she threw her head back. “Fine.”

Beau squealed and immediately turned towards YN’s closet, but that was a no go for her. He’d spend forever in there trying to get YN to wear something slightly more over the top then needed. Which would be done for the sole purpose of trying to put her out there to any of the people at the party so he could convince her to go on a date.

Wasn’t happening.

“Nope. I’ll find something on my own. You go get my curl creme and edge control from your bathroom, because I know you stole it,” YN said.

“I didn’t–”

YN fixed him with a glare before he could continue and he stopped talking though there was an eye roll as he walked out of the room.

“Also, I know you took my high waisted shorts too. Don’t think I don’t,” she shouted after him.

Once she heard a series of words cursing her a smile graced her lips. Getting on Beau’s nerves – even a little bit – was always fun.

With her temporary privacy YN made a beeline to her dresser. Without much thought, she yanked a pair of high waisted gray shorts from a drawer and slipped them on under her shirt.

She’d decided the weekend would be anti–pants.

After that she found a bra from another drawer and slipped it on up underneath before heading to the closet. Obviously, she wasn’t going to go all out but that did not mean that she wouldn’t at least try to be cute. She searched for a bit before finding a lilac, long sleeved, cold–shoulder top. It was a favorite of hers. Tight and flowy in all the right places. She was forever thankful that she’d been home the day Beau cleaned out his closet and had the chance to snap up a few things.

YN slipped off her shirt and pulled on the top before heading out of the room towards her bathroom. She was met part way by Beau with her hair care products in his hands.

“You’re not going to shower?” he asked.

“I showered three hours ago.”

At that Beau shrugged, but then there was this weird smile that graced his lips. It was one that YN was very familiar with and she’d already started shaking her head.

“Can I do your hair?” he asked.

“No.”

“Why not?”

“Because you take too long. We wouldn’t leave for another hour at least because you’d overthink if something is even or if it looks good. And I’m guessing we don’t have that kind of time.”

Beau pursed his lips for a moment, but then shook his head.

“Exactly. So, give me fifteen minutes to do something with it and put on bare minimum make–up.”

He nodded and retreated from the bathroom. “I’ll text Yoonie and then go down to the car.”

YN gave a thumbs up before she got to work. Her make–up was truly bare minimum with some concealer, mascara, and a touch of gloss. Enough to keep her from looking like she’d worked twelve–hour shifts but not too much that she felt the need to do a full face. Then once that was done, she whipped off her bonnet and took down the twists. She’d planned to leave the twist–out in for a few days, but it needed washing so it could come down sooner.

It took her a total of five minutes to get the hair down, placed how she wanted, and her edges laid. A spritz of oil and some mild teasing of her curls and she was pleased.

She indeed looked cute enough to be happy with herself.

After grabbing her phone, purse, and backup charger she made quick work of slipping on a random pair of shoes and making her way downstairs to Beau’s car. He was pulled up to the door when she arrived, so the moment she slipped in they were off.

For the first ten minutes of the drive they listened to music and belted the lyrics, but just as they grew closer to the shop Beau turned it down.

“You have to be nice to people,” he said, fixing YN with a look that made her close her mouth as she went to protest. “I know you think you’re not mean, but you’re mean. You can’t be mean. Talk to people before you decide they’re dicks and then you can be however you want. But you’re here to have fun, destress, and socialize. Even if it’s only a little. And no, Yoongi and I don’t count.”

YN sighed, but nodded. But then a thought popped into her head.

“So that means–”

Beau cut her off just as he parked behind the shop. “No. No Jungkook or Jin or any of the boys either. You must branch out to someone else.”

Of course, he was right, so she was just going to go with it. Plus, there was one week where all YN thought about in her off time was that she needed to go out more. However, all her friends happened to be busy that whole week and she couldn’t be bothered to venture out on her own.

“Okay, dad.”

At that Beau glared at her before getting out of the car. YN laughed so hard she barely managed to get her belt off and to the back door before he opened it.

Once they were in the building she could hear the faint sound of music playing and it just happened to be a song she loved. YN followed Beau through the backroom to the hallway that led to all the tattoo rooms and then eventually to the spacious lobby area.

There were people loitering about mingling with each other, but it was not as many as YN originally feared. And honestly fewer people than when Yoongi usually threw get–togethers. So, it was a win for her.

The moment they stepped into view most people’s attention turned to them. Yoongi – who was in the middle of a conversation with Jimin, Namjoon, and someone else YN couldn’t see clearly – smiled their way. He broke from the group with his arms opened and Beau moved quickly towards him, but he was bypassed for YN.

As YN wrapped her arms around Yoongi in a tight hug she smirked at Beau over his shoulder. Beau pouted and glared at them.

“Does he look ready to murder us yet?” Yoongi whispered, amusement clear in his voice.

“Nah, just being a big baby.”

At that Yoongi laughed and pulled away from YN, but that didn’t mean he turned to greet his boyfriend. No, instead he reached up and gently pinch YN’s cheek which earned him a slap of the hand.

“Good to see you’re still eating properly with all that work you’re doing. Those precious cheeks looking plumper than usual, baby sister. So cute,” he cooed.

YN rolled her eyes so hard surely they should’ve gotten stuck. Yoongi always got weird when he didn’t see her for long periods of time because of work. It was cute, but also slightly embarrassing. Like the last time he’d called her little sister in a room full of people YN could count the number of people on two hands who tried to process this Korean man calling some Black woman his little sister.

“Of course, I eat. You constantly leave me food or send delivery to my job. Or have Jin come from all the way on the opposite side of the hospital at mealtimes to bully me into eating at specific times,” YN said.

All Yoongi did was smile and wink at her before turning around to face Beau. Of course, Beau tried to maintain his pout, but all it took was Yoongi smiling and kissing him for that to stop. While YN made fake gagging sounds in the background.

That earned her another glare from Beau, but again it didn’t last long as he looked between her and Yoongi.

“At this point you may as well find a way to adopt her,” Beau said.

“Oh, don’t worry. Mom already has the paperwork going,” Yoongi said.

It was hard to tell if he was joking though. He’d hinted at that before and since his mother had taken to her the same way he had; it wasn’t impossible that it would be a thought. And if YN was honest, she didn’t mind. His family was amazing and she loved them to pieces. They also reciprocated that love and it felt like she’d belonged somewhere for the first time. Like she had family for the first time in years.

YN shook her head as she tried to get her mind from wandering down that path. It wasn’t great and she didn’t want to ruin her night by thinking about someone who didn’t matter to her. Someone who she didn’t matter to.

“Oh, Hobi’s here. You can finally meet him, Sid. You two always manage to never be in the same place at the same time,” Beau said.

Nodding, YN followed them over to where the boys were standing around. Before she could even speak she was wrapped in hugs. And all of them were so tight that she was unsure if they were trying to break her. Once that was done she stepped a bit away so they didn’t think of clinging to her again.

“Hi to you too,” she mumbled while rubbing one of her sore arms.

Jin laughed as he watched her. “That’s what you get when you go MIA for so long. Even I had trouble finding you and we pretty much worked all the same shifts.”

“Maybe you’d find me if you didn’t spend so much time flirting with all the nurses in my department,” she said.

Naturally Jin didn’t mind being called out in the slightest and merely smirked at her. The dork loved himself a little too much sometimes. Or honestly the ladies loved him a little too much. And men. And non–binary people. Just everyone. Everyone loved him a little too much and as a respectful “fuckboy” he ate it all up.

“Before we’re forced to hear about Jin and the new male nurse in cardiology. YN meet Hoseok. Hoseok, YN,” Yoongi said.

Finally, YN glanced the way of the mystery man from earlier and her eyes widened a fraction. She would’ve been embarrassed if his expression didn’t mirror hers.

He looked almost exactly like that last – and first – time she saw him months ago, except his hair was longer and a light brown. It looked good on him, like way too good that she was imagining how things would have differed if she’d had all that to pull on.

Of course, while she mildly fantasized the others stared them down and descended into confusion when neither spoke a word.

“Uh, y’all good?” Beau asked cautiously.

“Do you know each other or something?” Namjoon asked.

Not taking their eyes off each other they both nodded. But Yoongi didn’t find that sufficient and pinched YN, drawing her out of the momentary shock.

“Uh, yeah. We met a few months ago in a club,” she said.

Hoseok nodded. “We slept together.”

That made everyone freeze, mouths and eyes opened wide in shock. But that shock did not last long at all.

Yoongi lost it a little. “Oh goodness, no. No. No. No. You made me listen to you go into detail about that. You basically just gave me a preview of my little sister’s sex life. No.”

Hoseok appeared to be embarrassed by that, but not so much that he tried to escape or hide away. And YN was almost equally disgusted, but not because her sex life had been divulged. She had no qualms with that seeing as she’d done the same thing. But thinking about Yoongi knowing anything that happened that night was just so weird. Her body literally shuddered at the thought.

“My bad,” Hoseok said.

“Yeah, your bad,” Yoongi said.

From there silence remained within the group, but then something shifted in Yoongi and he looked ready to square up with Hoseok.

“Did you sleep with her and kick her out? Hoseok, so help me if you treated her like trash I will hurt you.”

YN quickly moved to put a hand on his shoulder and push him back a bit.

“Whoa, there. None of that happened. We slept together and he offered to let me stay the night. The next morning I got dressed and we said our goodbyes. He was very nice,” she said.

It took a moment or two before Yoongi calmed down, but when he did he appeared remorseful for his little outburst. And though YN was a little surprised and knew it was unnecessary some part of her was warmed by having someone willing to back her up.

“Sorry,” Yoongi mumbled.

However, despite Yoongi pulling it together, Beau was looking at Hoseok as if not sure if he was upset with him or not. Which was not good seeing as YN knew of the two Beau was most likely to hurt some feelings on behalf of those he cared about. And it didn’t matter how close he was to the other person, if you fucked up, you fucked up and he was going to tell you about yourself.

“Is this going to make things awkward?” Beau asked.

“It shouldn’t,” Hoseok said.

At the same time YN replied with, “Nope.”

That appeased him enough and YN hoped all of it would stop there, but obviously that couldn’t be the case.

“Go talk,” Yoongi said.

“What? Why?” YN whined.

Yoongi fixed her with a serious expression and she knew immediately that he wasn’t going to budge. “Because I need to be sure it won’t be awkward so you need to go talk about this. Also, I just need a moment away from both of you until the mental image stops.”

“But–” Hoseok started.

“Let’s just do it. He’ll push for forever and then it’ll be bigger than it is. Plus, you did just mentally scar him.”

Sighing, he stood straight up and nodded. “Fair.”

YN stepped out of the way so that he could get by and extended her arm in a flourish.

“Lead the way.”

And lead he did. Hoseok took her towards the back and didn’t stop until he entered one of the artist rooms. It was one YN had never been in before so she assumed it was his and was proven correct when she saw some polaroids of him tattooing on the wall next to some sketches.

While she took in the space Hoseok had taken a seat in his rolling stool and watched her. He didn’t rush the conversation, just observed her. And from the way he angled down to her lower half when she finally looked his way, he was also checking her out.

YN smirked at that.

“We fucked, it was good, we did it again in the morning before I left, and there are no hard feelings right?”

That made Hoseok laugh. “As blunt as you were then. You keep that up and I might need another round right now.”

“Another round?”

“Yup.”

“Right here?”

“Yup.”

Then it was YN’s turn to laugh. “You must want Yoon to kill you.”

“I’d be fine with that. At least I got to have some great sex before I die. And isn’t that all anyone could ever ask for?”

And just like that she remembered why she’d even wanted to go home with Hoseok that night. His bright smile, the easy back and forth, the fact that she most definitely wanted to sit on his face and he was more than down for that.

From that point in their conversation, they went to talking about the ideal thing to do before death and then somehow got to talking about some YouTube video Hoseok had seen. It reached the point where he whipped out his phone to show her, standing up so she could see better. Though because of the length standing got annoying fast and despite there being a perfectly good tattoo chair that they could recline next to them, Hoseok sat on his stool and pulled YN onto his lap.

They were so wrapped up in what they were talking about and then watching, that neither of them realized how long they’d been gone. Or how that would look.

Yoongi burst into the room suddenly as if to catch them in the act and neither of them even flinched. And despite them clearly not being up to anything he still glared at Hoseok like he was planning his death.

“What are you doing?” Yoongi asked.

YN shrugged, turning the phone so he could see. “Watching a thirty–minute video about drama in the YouTube beauty industry.”

For a moment Yoongi’s glare stopped and his brows knitted in confusion as he squinted to see the screen. But as quick as his aggression left it returned.

“On his lap?”

“We got tired of standing,” she said.

At that Yoongi raised a brow and gestured to the tattoo chair as if the answer were obvious, and it was but it didn’t really matter.

YN groaned. “It’s not a big deal.”

“You’re sitting on his lap!”

“Just be happy it’s all I’m sitting on,” she mumbled.

The gasp that left Yoongi afterwards made her aware that she hadn’t said it low enough, and before she could say anything else he stormed out of the room murmuring about needing bleach.

“Wait, Yoon. I’m sorry,” she shouted as she got up and went after him. Though she was laughing so it didn’t make it any better.

From there she was forced to chase Yoongi around the party until he let her hug him and promised not to murder Hoseok. Of course, it took some of Beau’s help for the second thing because any time Hoseok made a case for himself you could tell Yoongi was thinking about it even more.

After that, she moved about talking to the people she knew, but somehow always ended up in some corner talking with Hoseok about anything and everything. It was nice and she didn’t hate being forced out of her home as much. Of course, she was still tired so a good time and a nice conversation didn’t remove the longing fully.

As things winded down and people started to leave the core group – the people who worked there and close friends – all huddled near the waiting area. They all joked around and dragged each other for everything under the sun. Most things weren’t off limits so it led to a lot of dodging random punches to the arms if anyone felt any kind of way. But no one ever crossed a line.

It remained that way until even they got tired and were ready to head home. YN got up from her seat to use the bathroom and Beau hopped up with her.

“I’ll come with you,” he said.

YN paused and turned to look at him with a raised brow.

“Why?”

“Because.”

Arguing was always a choice, but it was also a waste of time and she really had to pee. So, without a word YN turned and headed to the bathroom with Beau hot on her heels. Once inside she was grateful it was two stalls so she had some distance between them, but it wasn’t much since Beau felt the need to lean against the closed stall door as he talked to her.

“So, what are the odds you sleep with Hobi again?” he asked.

YN rolled her eyes. Of course, that’s what he wanted.

“Moderate to high seeing as I’ll probably see him more often now that he’s not guesting at shops all the time and we’ll be in each other’s presence a lot more. Plus, he is single and I have no objections to sleeping with him if he’s down.”

“Wait. Did you just give in? That quickly? Oh, come on you usually make me work for it or deny, deny, deny until I leave you alone.”

There was the sound of a toilet flush before YN answered.

“Maybe it’s because you’re a nosy Nancy and I know you won’t let this go. Plus, what is the point of lying to you when I’m sure everyone noticed me checking him out more than once in the past few hours,” she said.

With a slightly harder push she indicated her want to exit the stall and Beau moved to let her out. She tried to avoid his gaze, but she saw him in the mirror as she went to wash her hands.

Beau stared at her with eyes wide, but slowly a smirk graced his lips. Which was all YN needed to see to know he was not done with his questions despite getting an answer from her so easily.

“So, is this a fucking thing or could it be a dating thing? Do I finally get to go on double dates with you again? We haven’t had those since you and that doctor Jin works with broke up.”

“I don’t know. I’m not even saying we’re going to have sex again; I’m saying I’m not opposed. Whatever happens, happens,” she said, but just as she finished rinsing she continued, “And for the love of Zeus please do not mention that man ever again. He’s been trying to enact some sort of at work booty call situation and has Jin passing me notes. I would rather do anything else but remember dating him.”

At that Beau laughed, well more like he cackled. He found amusement in hearing about how that man just didn’t know how to take a hint. Of course, YN’s “ex” had never gone as far as to make her uncomfortable or cross a line, but he was so damn annoying and she was beyond over it.

“Okay, okay. I’ll let it go. And I’ll never bring up Dr. Mistakes–Anal–Beads–As–Candy.”

Before YN could even turn around Beau ran away, sprinting out of the bathroom at a speed he reserved for when he knew his ass was going to be kicked. And YN did plan to kick it but decided not to once she’d gotten out of the bathroom. At least not do it right then, she’d get her revenge another time. An unexpected time.

So, while Beau ran to hide YN took her sweet time making it back out front. When she appeared Beau was hiding behind Joon and she didn’t even bat an eyelash or glance his way. She wanted to build the fear.

With their return everyone started to say their goodbyes and gave out an unnecessary amount of hugs. Yoongi had an early morning work thing so he was going back to his apartment, which meant he and Beau being soft on a vomit inducing level for a few minutes. It was a win for YN because she didn’t have to hear them or happen on their naked forms at some point, but as she was forced to see them snuggle into each other and cooing she kind of wished he was coming back with them. Or that Beau was going with him.

Thankfully, Hoseok appeared in front of her and his presence gave her something else to focus on, even if she could still hear them. Though even that went out the window the moment he leaned down to whisper in her ear.

“I would be more than okay with sleeping with you again. Like very much so down for that to the point that you could ask me right now,” he said.

YN scoffed at that, knowing he must’ve heard Beau in the bathroom. Which wasn’t hard seeing as he’d asked the questions loudly despite them being in the same space.

“Eavesdropping, are we?” YN asked.

Hoseok laughed and shrugged. “Just in the right place at the right time. And I’m very glad I was.”

“Ah, okay. Well, I’ll make sure to remember your answer to this thing you didn’t eavesdrop on,” she said.

He pulled away, but only enough to meet her eyes. “You should. You should even give me your number so we can maybe make it a thing.”

Though part of her wanted to laugh, something about the eye contact and smooth words made her just hand over her unlocked phone. Which made Hoseok smile wider than she’d seen, something that she thought would be impossible.

Once he put the number in and called himself he handed it back. YN thought he’d give her space after that, but he just leaned in again. That time he was close enough that she felt his breath on her neck and it sent a tingle down her spine.

“Oh, and I’m down for the dating thing too. So, text me when you have the time to let me take you out,” he whispered.

That time a tingle coursed through her for a different reason, and in a different place.

YN planned to take him up on those offers, but of course work happened.

Things at the hospital weren’t even hectic, but for some reason she worked ten times more than she had for months. She was in a constant state of movement, to the point where she ate while walking the halls to do things and only ever sat in the car ride home and when she went to bed. Her body wasn’t happy at all, but it knew there was no stopping.

Or it at least knew that it would get a short break in between and kept going until that time came.

Her work week was at its end on a Tuesday night. It would be almost two weeks off for her since she’d taken on such a workload that she was mandated a longer off time and her vacation time coincided with that. It was a miracle. Or that’s what it felt like with how shitty her day had been.

It was non–stop running around because an accident occurred and she was in and out of surgeries. Nothing she hadn’t experienced before, but on one operating table there was a pregnant woman who’d been on her way in because of labor. In the end she was fine but trying to stop the bleeding and safely deliver the baby was a draining task.

After that YN was allowed time to shower and eat, because ten hours in surgery was no joke.

And because of the strenuous work she’d been moved to doing only charts for her last few hours. There weren’t a lot so she trudged along slowly to get them done. She finished her last one about fifteen minutes before her shift was over.

Of course, she usually hid until time was up but something possessed her to go to the nurses’ station to check on things. However, when she arrived at the station she was surprised to see who was standing there.

Jin was flirting with the head nurse as usual, though the woman merely ignored him. It wasn’t like he was one hundred percent serious and she was older and married. Her kids were Jin’s age. So, the young doctor with his smooth words didn’t faze her. But the true surprise was that Hoseok was leaning against the counter next to him talking with a male nurse.

None of them paid her any attention until she got closer and cleared her throat.

With her presence clear Hoseok turned to her and she watched as his smile grew and though she returned it confusion bloomed.

Naturally, Jin didn’t let her curiosity last too long.

“Looks like Hobi was right on time. Though I’m glad you showed up instead of making me search your hiding spots,” he said.

“Right on time for what?” she asked.

“Oh, he got tired of the conflicting schedules so he demanded to know when you would be free so he could ta–”

Hoseok cut him off, using his hand to cover Jin’s.

“What he’s trying to say is that I wanted to go out with you soon and I thought this was the easiest way. Though it might seem a little creepy, but I’d hope you could look past that since you did joke about the only way this would work is if I were spontaneous. Plus, you said you’re off for a while after today,” Hoseok said.

Though he appeared confident in his words she could see some uncertainty in his eyes. He probably worried he’d crossed a line. And though usually she’d be put off by that, he wasn’t wrong she had said it. Plus, she’d been serious and joking. With the way life was there was always a high chance she’d keep forgetting or having something else to do. Or he’d be busy with work himself.

But got damn was she tired and in no way prepared to go out with anyone. That must have been clear in her expression though, because Hoseok was already talking.

“I know, you’re ending a week of intense shifts. And Jin told me this one was not great by any means. We’re not going out, going out. I had something planned for us to stay in. It could be your place or mine. Nothing crazy or that requires energy or paying much attention. Promise.”

YN pursed her lips for a moment, but she didn’t hate the idea. She was tired, exhausted was probably the better term, but being in the company of someone else in a relaxing environment sounded good.

“That’s fine,” she said.

In an instant she watched all worry leave his face and his smile brighten even more. That time she had no reservations about returning it.

“Let me finish up and go get my stuff and I can meet you at the main entrance?”

“Yeah. I’ll be out front.”

“Okay.”

They stood there for a moment staring at each other until Jin got fed up and lightly shoved YN in the opposite direction. After glaring at him she finally made her away around the nurses’ station to talk for a moment with the doctor taking over. It was a few minutes before she headed to the locker rooms and switched from her scrubs to a pair of joggers and a too big hoodie she’d stolen from Yoongi some time ago.

After a quick bye to her people and Jin – who had a few hours more of his shift – she headed to the main entrance. Hoseok wasn’t right in front because that was illegal, so she had to jog a little to get to his car. He leaned over to push the door open for her and she slid in, dropping her small backpack on the floor in front of her.

Once she’d gotten her seatbelt on she expected him to start driving, but after several seconds of nothing she turned to look at him. He wore an amused expression as he watched her.

“What?” she asked.

“You haven’t told me where you would prefer.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh.”

He chuckled at her obvious forgetfulness.

“It’s wherever you want, love,” he said.

“Uh…”

YN pulled her lower lip between her teeth and nibbled on it while she weighed her choices. At home she’d get comfortable instantly and have everything that she needed at her fingertips. But at the same time she didn’t want to deal with Yoongi being weird and overprotective and she knew he’d be there that night. But Hoseok’s meant spending a night in a bed she was only mildly familiar with, which would end in her waking up more disoriented than usual after a shift like the one she had.

After a minute or so of debate, her sanity won out.

“Yours.”

“Okay then, it shouldn’t ta–”

“But I need to stop by my apartment to get some things–”

They both spoke at the same time and paused when they heard the other. There was silence for a few seconds and then laughter. YN motioned for Hoseok to continue.

“I was saying that it shouldn’t take long. I don’t live far from here. And to answer what you were saying, Beau summoned me to your apartment and gave me that,” he said while pointing to the back seat.

There sat one of YN’s weekend trip bags and immediately she rolled her eyes. Of course, Beau somehow foresaw that she’d chose to go to Hoseok’s or at least he hoped enough to raid her room for things she’d need.

Sometimes she questioned how close they were when she found herself unbothered by him going into her room to pick clothes for her. But alas what was done was done.

“Well, I guess straight to yours it is.”

Hoseok nodded and they were off. He didn’t try to make conversation and for that YN was glad. Despite the time to decompress at work with her charting it was never good enough because she was still in the environment. On the way home was a good time for her to process and move on with her day. It helped keep the bad things from lingering if she got them out of the way. It also lowered her emotional sensitivity. Sometimes the smallest thing could set her off after a hard day if she didn’t sit with it for a moment.

By the time she finished they were in the parking garage of his building and had been for several minutes. She only realized when her brain registered that she hadn’t felt the vibrations of the car for some time. Free from her haze she turned to look at Hoseok in confusion.

He smiled. “You were deep in thought, so I wanted to let you finish whatever it was. Not like we’re in a rush anyway.”

At that YN could feel her cheeks heat a little, though not enough that a blush would be clear. She murmured a soft thank you and they got out of the car.

Though she’d been able to grab her backpack from the floor without a problem, Hoseok snatched up her other bag and tossed it over his shoulder. And from the look on his face when she’d reached for it there hadn’t been any use in trying to take it from him. So, she followed him as he led her through the garage and into the building. Once inside he slowed and when they were next to each other his hand went to her lower back, guiding her to the elevators.

Though she’d been a bit drunk the last time she’d come to his apartment she could still remember the way up. Her brain hit her with a barrage of images at every step and once inside the elevator it played out the whole scene of them practically humping each other as they made out.

Hoseok seemed to remember as well because he laughed and then looked at her with a smirk on his lips. She rolled her eyes and nudged him with her elbow, but of course she wasn’t actually bothered at all.

“Don’t think it’s happening again,” she said.

“Don’t think what’s happening again?” he asked, faux innocence coloring his voice.

Yet another eye roll and laughter from him before the doors opened on his floor and he guided her out. The apartment was the last one in the hallway which meant she had to deal with his teasing the entire way there. Once he input the code she pushed the door open to get away from him and his poking.

It was exactly how her fuzzy and then morning brain remembered. Organized with a few things thrown here and there, but by no means messy. There was also a strong smell of what could have been lavender, but YN couldn’t tell.

“You can set your stuff down in the bedroom. And shower if you want. I know you’ve had a long day, so it could help,” he said as he finally handed over her bag.

For a moment YN thought to turn him down because she’d showered, but then she realized how icky she felt. Showers at work weren’t always the best for feeling truly clean no matter how long you stayed in there or how hard you scrubbed.

“I think I’ll take you up on that,” she said.

Nodding, Hoseok led her to his bedroom and then to the ensuite. She set her backpack down in a corner of the room and brought the weekend bag with her. Once she entered the bathroom Hoseok was turning on the shower and then pulling out a towel, rag, and pointed out the body wash for her.

“That should be it,” he said, but paused glancing at her. “Do you need something for your hair?”

YN smiled at the consideration but shook her head.

“I don’t care a whole lot if the braids get wet and I’m sure Beau packed something for me. But thank you.”

Moving forward she pressed a kiss to his cheek, which made him freeze. When she pulled away he’d collected himself and was smiling at her. He stared for a moment before excusing himself so that she could get her shower in. Telling her to call out for him if she needed anything.

Since she’d showered a few hours before it wasn’t a long one. Beau had packed a shower cap and her bonnet in the bag, along with some things that she most definitely didn’t need since she had no plans to have sex with Hoseok. And even if she did there was no need for the vibrator he put in there. But ignoring that she undressed and threw on the shower cap, jumping into the shower so she could get it done. She stood under the hot water for a while and it helped calm her further, but since she didn’t want to take a century in there she cut it shorter than her usual.

It took maybe ten minutes or less for her to get herself clean in a way that actually felt like it and then she was done. She dried off in the shower before stepping out. Quickly, she threw on her undergarments – thank goodness Beau packed a sports bra – and then a pair of pajama shorts, plus a too large t–shirt that she’d stolen from Beau who’d stolen it from Yoongi.

Once done she redid the bun her box braids were in and headed out with all her stuff. The moment she stepped foot into the bedroom she was met with a shirtless Hoseok in low hanging joggers.

It took everything in her not to stare at the tattoos like she’d done the first time they met. Tipsy her had the man unbuttoning his shirt in the bar so she could get a better look. How they didn’t get kicked out, she was unsure.

“Done already?” he asked, glancing up from his phone.

“Yeah. I took one at work, I just didn’t feel clean enough,” she said.

He nodded though she saw a look flash in his eyes for a second and then disappear as quick as it came. She assumed it was worry or pity, something she was used to when she said things like that. People tended to think she was trying to wash away something that wasn’t physically there and they wouldn’t be completely wrong in that assumption.

YN placed her bag near the backpack and then turned back to Hoseok with a raised brow.

“So, what are we doing?” she asked.

Hoseok pursed his lips as if in deep thought, but in a second it was replaced with yet another smile. “I was thinking of watching The Old Guard and finishing that season of Kakegurui. We don’t have to move onto season two, but I need to get to the end before I lose it.”

They’d been watching that anime together via Facetime for a few weeks and were maybe four or five episodes out from finishing. And YN wanted to get that done as much as he did. But she also had been upset for weeks about not getting to watch Old Guard. Like upset enough that she accused Beau of betrayal when he watched it without her and Yoongi had to play mediator. Though she was upset with him too, despite his somewhat convincing lie about falling asleep halfway through it.

But regardless of that she couldn’t help the happy feeling that filled her for him remembering that and for thinking it was something she’d enjoy. He was very right and honestly, it was what she needed to fully immerse herself into the relaxation of a break.

“That sounds great,” she said, smiling way too hard.

Without a word Hoseok reached out for her hand and she let him take it. Their fingers laced together as they walked out into the living room. Out there the TV was set up and the couch had a few blankets as well as some fluffy looking pillows. And since it was one of the larger ones that were in an L–shape she knew she’d fit comfortably on it no matter which way she laid.

She was led all the way to the couch and Hoseok practically ripped her arm off pulling her down with him. YN gasped and struggled to right herself as she was practically swallowed by the blankets. It took several seconds to get comfortable, but before she could truly settle into that Hoseok pulled her closer so that she was practically on top of him.

When he stopped moving her around she slapped his arm.

“Excuse me, sir. You’re getting mighty comfortable are you not?”

Hoseok snorted. “I’ve slept with you and despite only seeing each other a handful of times over several weeks I’ve made it very clear I’m into you. And you fell asleep during that one group movie night using my thigh as a pillow. So not a word about being comfortable, ma’am.”

YN scoffed at that but didn’t say anything. She had a very vivid memory of waking up the next morning still pressed against his thigh. If everyone hadn’t been sprawled out around them, she would’ve been much more embarrassed than she had been. Which wasn’t that much since the man's thighs made a nice, firm pillow.

“Fine,” she mumbled.

“That’s what I thought. Now what are you craving for dinner?” he asked, pulling out his phone and adjusting it for both to see.

Before she opened her mouth to ask what the options were, he already had a folder where he kept all his takeout apps open. She perused the page until something caught her eye and then she tapped the little app for a pizza place she liked.

“I thought you avoided greasy food after a shift?” he asked.

YN tilted her head back and pouted at him. Of course he was right, but she wasn’t in the mood for something light and healthy. She’d deal with the consequences later.

“Are you going to deny me what I want?” she asked, her voice gentle.

Hoseok’s expression softened as he reached over to boop her nose. But then he stuck his tongue out at her.

“You know I’m not, so stop pouting. And I don’t want to hear not one complaint when you feel like shit in the morning,” he mumbled the last part.

“I will complain as I damn well please!” YN shouted in a burst of energy.

All Hoseok did was roll his eyes and shove the phone closer to her face so she could put toppings on her pizza and order whatever else she wanted. She didn’t get much else. Besides the pizza she got a large coke that she made clear wouldn’t be shared and fries because why the hell not.

Fries were never a bad choice. Even when she felt like crap the morning after.

With food ordered, Hoseok wrangled her into another position and pressed play on Netflix. She planned to argue but she felt so comfortable and her body physically relaxed, so there was no urge to call him out. Besides, he knew what she was okay with and she knew that if she was actually uncomfortable, he’d accept being called out. They wouldn’t have survived that night after sex if they hadn’t been clear on what was and wasn’t okay.

YN got so caught up in watching and being comfortable that time passed quickly and before she knew it they were halfway through the second episode and his doorbell was ringing. She groaned and fussed about having to move but got up without much persuasion.

Hunger was still present despite the need for comfort more than anything.

Hoseok went and came back in minutes. By then YN paused the show and moved down to the floor so she sat in front of the coffee table. He laid out all the food, placing her box of pizza in front of her, along with everything else.

The urge to eat at the smell of the food was strong, but she waited until he returned from the kitchen with glasses and got comfortable next to her. She opened her box carefully and smiled as she looked at the pepperoni, bacon, jalapeno pizza with heart eyes. No time was wasted grabbing a slice and taking a bite.

By some miracle she didn’t moan out loud afterwards.

It had been so long since she’d had that pizza or any pizza at all. She’d been busy with work and thus that meant avoiding greasy things for the most part. Even when someone had brought it into the breakroom she had opted to grab a poptart before she ran off somewhere. She didn’t realize that she actually missed it.

The way she ate it made her feel almost like a pig, but she’d only consumed three or so slices in the time it took the episode to finish and the next to reach its halfway point. And Hoseok hadn’t made any sort of comment, not that he would judge her about how she inhaled her food.

Though she had spent that time focused on the TV and her food, not even sparing a glance at Hoseok. Carefully she turned her head to see him equally as focused as she was, and his pizza almost gone. Her eyes went wide as she looked from his to hers and back again. She’d seen him eat before, but it still shocked her how fast he could consume food.

Did he even chew?

After about forty–five seconds of her watching him Hoseok turned his head to look her way. He swallowed the crust he’d shoved into his mouth and raised a brow.

“Yes?” he asked.

“I don’t think you even chewed that.”

He merely shrugged and took a sip of his drink.

“I did chew,” he mumbled after.

“For what? Two seconds?” she asked incredulously.

That made him laugh; one of those throw your head back kind. It lasted for several seconds and at some point YN shook her head and moved her attention back to the TV. Hoseok tried to get her attention after but she shrugged him off, even as he poked her side repeatedly and whined in her ear about wanting attention.

As minutes went by it was a little hard to ignore him, but as the last episode queued up she closed her pizza box – despite having half left – and moved on to her fries. Which got him to stop since she was eating and poking a stomach while someone ate was cause for not a great time.

But sadly, she barely ate a third of them before she felt the tightening of her stomach and knew it was best to stop. It wasn’t unbearable and she didn’t want to make it that way.

Once she pushed it away from her Hoseok took that as the cue to start cleaning things up and preparing them to be put away. After downing some of her coke in hopes of a burp to make her feel not bloated she went to help, but her hands were smacked away. That didn’t deter her, but after the fourth smack she glared at Hoseok.

“Why are you stopping me?”

Hoseok paused in his cleaning, turning to her to smirk and wink.

“Because. Now go get comfortable. We’re going back to the couch and staying there for the rest of the night.”

YN pursed her lips for a moment before huffing and leaning back against the couch.

“Fine. So bossy,” she mumbled, though not low enough.

Again, Hoseok paused and turned to her, but his expression was different. Amusement and a glint of mischief lurked in his eyes. The kind of mischief that sent a tingle down her spine and elsewhere.

“If you truly want bossy, we can always go back to you calling me Daddy, darling. I have no problem changing around this night since you want to misbehave,” he said.

Naturally, YN stared him down unbothered by his words. Of course, they did something to arouse her, but she was also a brat and wouldn’t back down from such a small amount of intimidation. Especially when she wasn’t submersed in that mindset before the topic was brought up.

They stayed that way for a while. Just staring and waiting for the other to back down, however neither of them did. What stopped them was a yawn that YN tried to keep at bay breaking to the surface.

His entire demeanor shifted despite the fact that YN saw he was clearly trying to keep his composure. Once he got his expression under control he pointed towards the couch and took everything to the kitchen.

Part of YN wanted to remain where she was, but she also didn’t want to start something she couldn’t finish. And that yawn reminded her of how tired she was – at least physically. She could fight sleep for a while, but her body felt a little sore and heavy. There was no point in keeping the little game going, so she dragged herself up from the floor and headed off to the bathroom to pee real quick. When she returned Hoseok wasn’t back yet, so she crawled onto the couch and positioned herself on her side against the corner of it.

A few minutes passed before he returned and when he did she was laying there scrolling through her twitter feed. She didn’t even notice his presence until he fell onto the couch, putting almost all his body weight on her in the process.

It took a minute or two to get him off, and when he finally freed her he snatched her phone to place on the other side of him. She was ready to take it back, but like the first time they got on the couch he pulled her into his arms to cuddle and placed half her body on top of his.

“So, we have ten minutes left on this last episode and then Old Guard?” he asked.

YN nodded, not finding any reason to disagree with what he said. Nothing in her no longer wanted to go along with the plan, if anything she was more eager now that she was calmer and had food in her system.

“Okay,” he said.

With that he started the episode up again and YN focused on the screen. It wasn’t like anything too exciting was happening, but either way she didn’t want to miss it.

Once the ten minutes was up they stared at each other for a little while and said nothing. After a while they both shrugged and Hoseok put on Old Guard. YN hyper focused on it, her excitement bubbling in her stomach. However, she found it hard to focus no matter how much she was enjoying it. Her mind kept drifting back to the last episode – or well, the whole season. She couldn’t wrap her mind around what it was, but she didn’t want to spend the whole time trying to figure it out.

She was ready to let it go until Hoseok sighed.

Tilting her head a little she looked up at him and was met with furrowed brows and a perplexed expression.

“Something wrong?” she asked.

Hoseok seemed startled by her sudden question because his eyes went wide for a second before he pulled it together.

“No. Everything’s fine,” he said.

That was obviously false and YN planned to push him on it, but then he sighed again.

“Okay, maybe it’s not fine. Nothing is wrong, at least nothing bad. But is it bad that I don’t know how to feel about the show and the ending?”

YN shook her head, pleased to see he felt the same way.

“Oh, my goodness no. I haven’t been able to focus because I couldn’t figure out if I loved it or thought it was meh or anything. Like I know it wasn’t bad, but what do I feel? What does that ending make me feel?”

His body visibly relaxed.

“Oh, thank goodness it wasn’t just me.”

And just like that their movie was forgotten and they discussed the anime in depth. All their thoughts on scenes and the questions they had while watching and still had after finishing it. They got so wrapped up in it that by the time they finished it was really late and they decided to try and watch the movie the next day.

That night they fell asleep wrapped up in each other, closer than they’d been on the couch. Which felt impossible.

“That’s not allowed! The rules don’t allow you to stack cards. No. No!” Jimin yelled, trying to force Yoongi’s cards back into his hands.

Yoongi smirked and simply slapped them back on top of the pile.

“Yes, you can. Now draw sixteen, bitch!”

Jimin squirmed where he sat on the floor and whined some more.

“It is not. You can’t do that,” Jimin said.

Not uttering a word, Yoongi simply pointed towards YN who was laughing at Jimin’s crybaby antics to the point that tears were falling. Every time she tried to pull it together she looked at his face and saw how upset he was and started laughing again. It took about four attempts to get it together over a minute before she could speak.

“Thems the rules,” she said.

Of course, that didn’t please Jimin at all, but when he looked around for back up no one offered their support. After rolling his eyes so hard they should’ve gotten stuck, he grabbed his sixteen cards from the stack. And he called Yoongi every word in the book while doing it.

From there the game progressed with more yelling about what wasn’t allowed and Beau and YN locked in an intense battle for who would get Uno first. They kept yelling at each other and glaring whenever one of them did something to screw over the other. When they got down to their last card it seemed like one of them would lunge at the other at any given moment.

As the end drew near, YN was focused on the cards being placed down and stopping Taehyung from leaning over to peek at her hand. She had one blue and one red draw two that she needed to throw down, she just needed the right colors.

And the universe did not let her down.

Taehyung dropped a blue card as he stacked it with a yellow and immediately she began to laugh. One of those kinda creepy ones that you would expect from a villain. Turning her head she stared at Beau – who was after her – while she placed the cards down.

“Uno. Uno out, bitch! And draw four,” she shouted.

Though she wanted to savor that moment of staring at Beau’s enraged face she knew that she was in danger. YN’s next move was to roll away from the group, which was perfect timing since Beau already swung to punch her in the arm. She didn’t stop until her body bumped into the couch and someone’s legs, which was far enough away to get Beau to let her be, though the glare he fixed her with could’ve killed her.

All YN could do was smile, wink, and then finger gun at him. Which made him throw an empty can of beer at her, but his aim was shit so it sailed past YN and hit the small end table next to the couch instead.

The animosity fizzled after that though because the round was not over and of course if Beau couldn’t be first he needed to be second. Which meant destroying everyone else with all the stacks, reverses, color changes he had on hand. It was fun to watch them all groan and curse as he just laid out the cards each turn.

YN watched them intently but after a few moments the legs she’d rolled into lightly kicked her. She turned her head to look up at an amused but pouting Hoseok.

“Hi there,” he said.

“Hi.”

“Would you prefer to come up here? It’s more comfortable.”

For a moment YN pursed her lips as if actually thinking it over like it was some major decision, but Hoseok scoffed and kicked her again.

“Fine, fine. If you insist,” she said as she crawled up onto the couch.

She sat so that her legs were pulled under her and they had a few inches between them, but Hoseok didn’t approve. He wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her closer so that her leg touched his thigh and then he released her, but kept the arm wrapped loosely around her.

“You have to stop manhandling me, dude. At least take me on a date first,” she teased.

Hoseok scoffed. “We’ve had like four dates. What do you mean? And did you just dude me?”

YN rolled her eyes. “We’ve hung out four times in an apartment that was either yours or mine. And two of those times we slept the entire time. And yes, I did. What about it?”

“You fell asleep first one of those times,” Hoseok said incredulously, but he didn’t stop there. “And don’t act like you didn’t call those dates and consider them valid since you were so busy. Also, how dare you dude me? I thought I was better than dude?”

“Okay, fine you’re right. But you have not taken me out on a date that involves leaving the house. Also, why are you better then dude? Is there something else I should be calling you?” she asked.

There was silence for a few moments as Hoseok looked at her, eyes wide and mouth agape. He seemed appalled, but YN didn’t know which thing was the problem. With how dramatic he could be anything she said could have “offended” him.

After she poked him in the side a few times he broke his silence.

“Yes, actually. I am not a dude, I am a… I am your… I am…”

Not wanting to interfere, YN watched as he struggled to find the right word for whatever it was he was trying to say. It was amusing to watch how flustered he got as more time went by. At some point he started blushing from it, his ears and neck turning red. It was interesting to see his neck tattooed colored in because of how flustered he was.

And though patient YN decided after two minutes of stuttering and avoiding eye contact that she needed to move things along.

She leaned towards his ear and whispered. “You’re my what, Hobi? My friend? My lover? My boyfriend? My daddy? What is it?”

The way she spoke was so soft and almost innocent, which was intentional. YN loved messing with people in general, so Hoseok was in no way immune to her trying to rile him up. Not even a little bit.

However, while it usually took more to get a reaction out of him he was already reacting before she finished the word daddy. His fingers dug into her side and then suddenly he was tickling her. It was just one hand at first, but then his other joined in and YN started violently squirming in an attempt to get away.

“Stop,” she squealed.

That obviously didn’t help her at all, if anything Hoseok became more brutal with his tickling. At some point he eased up, but it was only as he adjusted himself to be over her since she’d fallen to the side upon his first attack and her body was sprawled across most of the couch.

It took who knows how long for him to stop tickling her and by then she was breathing so heavily that it was all she could hear. Though it surely didn’t stop what he whispered in her ear from breaking through.

“You don’t want to test your daddy right now. You will stop teasing me.”

The deepness of his voice excited her and part of her brain wanted her to consider where she was, but it was overshadowed by the part that was wrapped up in him or maybe that part of her simply didn’t care in that moment.

Slowly, she tilted her head back so she could look into his eyes. Hoseok’s soft expression was no more and in its place was a locked jaw and intense eyes. YN could feel her heart quicken and without thought her hands began moving on their own accord, one tangling in his hair.

She felt so drawn into him and bit her lower lip as she felt like her body was on fire. Desire came to the forefront and she could feel the arousal as it built up inside her. And with the way Hoseok’s lips turned up into a smirk it was clear he could tell how she felt; which only made her want it more. Want him more.

But again, they weren’t considering where they were.

One second Hoseok’s head was dipping down and the next it was whipping up, his lips forming a frown and his eyes fixated on something off the couch. Or someone.

“Ow. Why are you throwing things?” Hoseok said.

Confused, YN glanced around until she noticed an empty beer can on the floor in front of the couch. And after seeing that she followed Hoseok’s gaze to Yoongi who stood a few feet away clearly unamused.

“Maybe because I don’t want you two going at it on my couch. Or maybe because I don’t want to see you going at it at all. You are not fucking in my presence,” Yoongi said.

YN rolled her eyes.

“No one is fucking or going to fuck in your presence,” she groaned.

“Sure fucking looked like you were about to. And I would love for it to stop looking like that,” Yoongi retorted.

At that Hoseok moved and so did YN, choosing to sit up as she stared down the man she considered her older brother.

“Do I need to mention the love seat incident?” she asked.

At that him and Beau froze. They both averted their gaze, but YN could still see the blush work its way onto their faces.

“That wasn’t… definitely not the same,” Yoongi said.

“Ah yeah, very different. Worse actually. Because who the fuck has sex in a shared living space, let alone perio–”

“Nope. Shut it. Don’t you dare finish that sentence. We promised to never speak of it again,” Beau shouted, while looking like he was going to die of embarrassment.

“That’s what I thought,” YN said.

After that it was a bit awkward. Even YN – who’d been so confident seconds before – felt it. That and an intense heat, as if she weren’t in an air–conditioned space.

She needed to get out of there, but not because of the awkwardness. Well, mostly not because of it.

“I feel hot enough to pass out. I’m going for a walk,” she said as she stood up.

“It’s late I’ll–” Yoongi and Hoseok started at the same time.

They stared at each other after, but it didn’t last long as Yoongi gestured for Hoseok.

“Uh, I’ll go with you,” Hoseok said.

Shrugging, YN grabbed her phone from the coffee table and headed towards the door. There she slipped on her shoes and grabbed one of the lighter jackets hanging on the coat rack. Nobody would be leaving so it didn’t matter whose she took.

Hoseok was right behind her and she waited for him to be ready before heading out.

“Don’t have sex in public either,” Namjoon yelled after them.

YN didn’t miss a beat and shouted back. “Not everyone is like you and gets almost arrested for public indecency in the alley behind a cupcake shop. In broad daylight might I add.”

That left everyone laughing, even Hoseok. And without another word they were out of the apartment and in the elevator.

They remained silent as they headed down and even once they were out of the building and on the street.

Yoongi’s apartment wasn’t in the middle of the city, but it was near a popular area. Which meant that despite the lateness they had to maneuver around groups of people who walked or loitered about. Thankfully as they got a block or so away the number of people lessened. It didn’t mean they were completely alone, but they weren’t running into people every few seconds.

It was three blocks in when the silence between them was broken.

“Where are we going? If you wanted to walk we could’ve gone to the park, which is in the opposite direction,” Hoseok said.

YN shook her head.

“I didn’t say I was only going on a walk. I do plan to go to the park, but there’s something else I want first. Though if all this walking isn’t what you want to do I could continue alone. I’ve done it a million times later than it is now.”

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Hoseok shake his head and huff.

“Nope. I said I’d come with you, so I’m following your lead. You can’t get rid of me that easily.”

And to emphasize that point he reached over and grabbed her hand, lacing their fingers together. His grip was firm, but gentle enough that she didn’t feel the need to readjust or pull her hand away.

From there it didn’t take long for them to reach their destination, which was an ice cream shop. When Yoongi first moved apartments they’d all gone on a walk to get a look at the neighborhood and got lost along the way. It was dark out and most things were closed by the time they got back on track and they’d stumbled upon the place to see it still open. That’s when they learned that they could get ice cream until four in the morning no matter the day of the week.

It quickly became a favorite location of YN’s; she’d even come after work some days. Of course, it was out of the way in relation to her apartment, but that didn’t matter. Sometimes she just needed to sit in a nearly empty ice cream parlor and devour four scoops of ice cream covered in whipped cream to get through the day.

Hoseok appeared a little perplex as she turned, pushing the door to the place open but he didn’t utter a word. He simply watched her as she approached the counter with a bright smile on her face.

“Minho!” she called out.

One of the workers behind the counter whipped around in surprise, but the moment his eyes landed on her he smiled. He held up a finger and then turned back towards what he was doing.

“What flavors are you thinking?” YN asked.

Hoseok didn’t respond right away, which made her turn her head to glance at him. However, instead of looking at her he was up close to the window taking in the ice cream. His eyes were wide as he perused the options. It was cute to see him slowly become more excited as he assessed everything.

She’d gotten so caught up in watching him that she didn’t notice Minho walked up until he cleared his throat. YN looked up to look at him and was met with him glancing between her to Hoseok and doing that stupid eye brow wiggle thing. It made her roll her eyes hard.

“I thought you stopped working this shift? You didn’t take the test yet right?” she asked him.

Minho’s face went blank for a moment that made her worry, but then a smirk made its way onto his lips. He then proceeded to do that dorky little shoulder dance he only brought out when there was something to celebrate.

YN was immediately filled with joy.

“You did? You passed? Oh my goodness. Fuck yes!” she squealed.

That seemed to grab Hoseok’s attention as she noticed him looking at them a little confused. The urge to explain was there, but she was more so caught up in voicing her excitement for Minho.

“I told you you could do it. You were agonizing for nothing. That test is stressful enough without you adding your own overthinking stress,” she said, reaching over to high five him.

Minho rolled his eyes at that. “I know, I know. I psyched myself out. Now it’s done and the new issue is applying for schools. My score was great, but I’m still up against so many people.”

“And you will get into so many places you apply. You’re applying to us right?” she asked.

At first she thought he was going to tell her no, which would result in her being a little pissy with him, but not much seeing as it was his future.

“Of course, I am. You and Jin would kill me if I didn’t and with all the help you’ve both been for getting through undergrad there is no way I would pass up the chance for a residency there. Plus that internship I did means I qualify for more scholarships there. Two of which mean a full ride.”

“I knew I taught you well,” YN said, pride filling her.

Once their little moment was over she turned to Hoseok still appeared confused, but also he seemed to be content. As if something about the interaction had brought him a little bit of happiness despite him being an on looker.

“Hoseok, this is Minho. He’s a pre–med student, soon to be med student. He interned with Jin and I for a while and we’ve kept an eye on him since. Minho this is Hoseok, he’s a friend and tattoo artist at Yoongi’s shop.”

Both men greeted each other politely.

“Sure, he’s a friend,” Minho mumbled, though not soft enough.

At that YN huffed and reached over to pop him, but of course he moved away before he could. He did the stupid eye bro wiggle again which antagonized her more, but instead of trying to get to him she calmed and reminded herself to remember it for next time she saw him not at work.

“Okay, now that you’re done trying to assault me. What can I get you guys? I assume YN wants vanilla, chocolate chip, moose tracks, and chocolate with enough whipped cream to root her teeth. But what can I get you Hoseok?” Minho asked.

“Uh, I can’t handle nearly as much sugar as her. And I hope I never have to. But… maybe two scoops of Superman ice cream. In a cup,” Hoseok said.

YN didn’t try to defend herself or punch his arm, just rolled her eyes and moved down since there was a line forming behind them and the other worker was already doing her sundae.

As Minho got Hoseok’s ready they talked a bit and appeared to hit it off, which pleased YN. She was glad that Minho would have someone else to talk to. The kid tended to keep to himself and his main friends were scattered around the country at different schools. It was hard not to worry about him even though she knew he was doing fine.

Once they got their ice cream and YN paid – despite earnest protest from Hoseok – she led them to a booth back in a corner. And the moment she plopped down a scoop of whipped cream was in her mouth. Of course, the ice cream should’ve been the focus since it would melt but it lasted a little longer in the cold shop so devouring half of the cream first wasn’t the end of the world.

As they ate there was small talk here and there. Talking about their days or whatever thing they were excited about that was coming up. It was consistent and chill, no pressure to have something uber interesting to say and no need to fill the silence when they both stopped talking to just eat their ice cream in peace.

And it felt nice for YN to be able to do that with someone outside of her normal circle of friends. Of course Hoseok was a part of that circle, but she’d never brought him there so it was new for her.

New and nice.

Well, the nice didn’t last for too long.

Just as YN got to the last bit of her ice cream a few people entered the shop, though she paid them no mind. Not until she heard a voice that was painfully familiar. YN’s head snapped up and her eyes found the person with ease.

There were three people to be exact. A middle aged man was smiling down at a kid that looked around ten and a woman around the same age was looking at both of them with a wide smile on her face. They were in their own little world and though YN wanted to look away; she couldn’t for a moment or so. It hurt, but she couldn’t stop herself from looking.

She needed to get the hell out of there.

It took Hoseok grabbing her hand to get her focus back on him. His lips were turned down in a frown and his eyes flickered from her to the people she’d stared at. The questions were clearly present, but as he opened his mouth something in him shifted physically. Next thing YN knew he was smiling at her and standing up.

“Ready to go?” he asked.

Without another thought she nodded, not even bothering to finish her ice cream. She got up and threw the bowl away in the trash can behind their booth. Afterwards she grabbed Hoseok’s outstretched hand and they headed out.

She was so close to getting away, but her waving bye to Minho screwed her over.

Out of interest, the older male turned their way and they locked eyes. His eyes widened and though YN tried to get herself to move quickly after it was too late. The man leaned down to whisper to the woman and she turned around faster than YN could look away.

That was the moment YN felt like her chest would cave in. Like she would drop to her knees right then and there. It was as if all her work over the years had been for naught, though she knew that the real issue was the joy she saw on the woman’s face. The joy and the regret. As if she was allowed to feel either of those things when it came to YN.

It took a minute, but YN pulled it together and took the lead heading out of the shop. She kept her pace fast, but not so much that she appeared to be running away from anyone. Because even though she wanted to get away, there was no running from that woman. She didn’t hold that much power over her.

Once outside YN was sure everything was safe, but of course it wasn’t.

“YN!” the woman called out.

Ignoring her was the smart move, but YN stopped walking and turned to look at her. She stood just outside the door with the man and the boy next to her. She still wore that smile despite it being clear that YN was far from happy to see her.

“I thought that was you, baby. I wanted to say hi,” she said.

YN scoffed. “I am not your baby. And I don’t know how many times I can make it clear that I don’t want to say hi to you. I don’t want to speak to you. I don’t want to be in the same space as you. I want nothing to do with you. You do not know me, so please act like it.”

The smile dropped immediately and a frown formed on the man’s face.

“YN, we get that you’re upset, but that isn’t how you speak to your mo–” he said.

There was no way she was allowing him to finish that word.

“Going to stop you right there. She is not my mother and she made that perfectly clear for most of my life. Just because she had reality knocked into her later in life does not mean she gets to change anything. And you are not my father nor are you some sort of authority that gets a say in how I talk to her. Least of all when it comes to respect. Neither of you have respected me as a person, so you get none in return. Not one bit. This is not some little family reunion. None of you are my family. Unless you hold the name Min or are one of the few people who I talk to on the daily you are not my family. You will never be my family. I made that clear after you tried to backtrack. Now keep on doing what you did for over ten years of my life and pretend I don’t fucking exist.”

And with that YN turned on her heel and walked away, dragging Hoseok behind her. She didn’t turn around once, not even when she heard a broken voice calling out to her over and over again.

That woman could sit with her sadness and guilt for her whole life. YN no longer cared to absolve her of it.

So, with that behind her YN kept moving forward. Literally.

Once she’d started speed walking away she didn’t stop. Not until they were at the park two blocks away from Yoongi’s apartment in the other direction. Once there she located a bench and plopped down onto it, releasing Hoseok’s hand in the process.

Hoseok merely sat down next to her and didn’t say a word. She knew he had a million questions, but he hadn't bothered to ask them or to tell her to slow down the entire way there. He’d just gone with the flow and she felt bad.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“You have nothing to apologize for. You obviously wanted to get away from them and they didn’t take the hint,” he said.

She nodded because he wasn’t wrong, but then she was shaking her head.

“No. I almost dislocated your arm and dragged you for blocks without saying a word after blowing up on people in a very vague way. I owe you an explanation.”

“You don’t.”

She turned to look at him for the first time since they’d left the shop. He was staring at her with understanding and care, which only enforced what she was going to do.

“I may not need to, but I want to. It’s better that I vent it out instead of keeping it all in like this. I agree with my therapist when he says it’s better for me to tell the story when I feel like I need to get it out no matter how many times I’ve said it and no matter how much progress I’ve made. And seeing as you’re trying to stick around you would find out anyway,” she said.

Hoseok’s expression remained the same for a bit, but then he smiled and nodded at her. His hand reached over to grab hers, giving it a light squeeze.

Taking a deep breath YN prepared herself to get into it. To get sad, angry, and numb all over again. She was better than she used to be, but that didn’t stop the emotions from hitting hard each and every time.

“Okay, so you’ve been privy to the dynamic of me in Yoongi. How we seem like siblings who spent their entire lives together and how his parents treat me as if I am their own. It’s because I basically am. I’m obviously a Black woman in the middle of South Korea who fits so well it’s weird. It’s because my father was stationed here at one point after he married my mom and when it was time for him to retire they wanted to stay here. But they had to go back to the US first. While there they had me and though that meant moving was a little harder that didn’t stop them. So, when I was two we moved here. We lived in a house not far from Yoon’s. And though we didn’t know each other for the first few years here he found me stumbling home crying one day and basically took me in. I was only a year younger than him, so we kept close and he treated me as if we were the same age. His family would watch me sometimes when my parents were busy and eventually it was like my second home. Everything was okay.

“But a few weeks after my tenth birthday my dad got sick and it was so sudden. So quick. One moment he was healthy and the next he couldn’t leave the hospital bed or breathe without help. His health deteriorated so quickly and within two weeks were in the VA hospital saying our last goodbyes. He was gone not too long after I’d said I love you. It was just so much and ten–year–old me was stronger and much more grounded then you’d expect of a kid at that age, but that shit fucking hurt. Hurt to watch him leave us. Hurt to watch my mother break down as she lost her husband. Hurt to watch them put him in the ground.”

At some point YN’s breathing increased and her chest tightened. It reached a point where she had to pause and breathe, like truly focus on the action to stop herself from getting too worked up. Hoseok pulled her closer and squeezed her hand and she could see he was going to say something, but she shook her head and took a deep breath before continuing.

“That hurt, but things got better. Things always pick up after something like that. Everything was back to normal, well as normal as could be with a death in the family. We all were good for a while, but sometime between eleven and twelve something in my mother shifted. I’d known a good bit of my life that she hadn’t wanted kids so soon and I was a surprise. She held no hatred, but it was what it was. But as time went on I could feel the resentment. As she tried to move on with her life in the romance department or just meeting new friends I could tell she just saw me as an obstacle. The love was there, but it was so different then before.

“At some point she sent me to the Min’s house more often and wouldn’t come home for days. The self–doubt on if she wanted me anymore was so strong and just as I thought I was wrong; I was proven right. She’d found another retired military man that she was heavily interested in, but he didn’t have kids and didn’t really want them. Which was fine, but he’d voiced not wanting anything to do with children and my mother couldn’t even muster the energy to say fuck him and find someone else.

“No, she told him she had no kid and that went on for months until I came home one day for something and he was there. He didn’t react horribly, but he was obviously displeased with me. Well, no displeasure isn’t the right word. Maybe disgust was it. But either way that’s all it took before my mother was packing up her things and mine. She was moving in with him and I was going to be sent to a foster care center that dealt with international kids.”

A bitter laugh escaped her as she said it. The memory of how her mother acted like it was natural and treated her as if she was lovingly taking her child on some sort of adventure instead of giving her up. YN felt fully immersed in her own rage and anguish, but not enough that she didn’t notice how Hoseok’s jaw locked and the anger in his eyes. She wanted to stop after that, but she was on a roll.

“Anyway, I stayed there for a week. Again Black girl in Korea where even in an international foster care home I’m the only one. It was horrible. I hated every second of it and I don’t know if it was the bullying or pity that made it so bad. But that Monday came and I was finally sent back to school, where Yoongi met me at the front gates. He didn’t know why I’d vanished and when I told him we skipped school and he took me back to his house. He told his mom and she told us to stay at the house. She returned several hours later with all my stuff and told me I was staying there now. That that was my home now and she'd given my mother a good cussing out and demanded some form of custody.

“So, from then on the Min’s were my family. They didn’t have a whole lot, but they took care of me. And my mother had the decency to provide money for them taking care of me. Helped feed and clothe me. And at some point I felt okay with it all, but that feeling of unworthiness doesn’t just leave because new people tell you you are worthy and that they love you. I spent so much time worried they’d get rid of me at some point that I was scared to even do something slightly wrong. But eventually Yoongi stopped it for the most part.

“And when he admitted he needed therapy once we got to college I realized I did too and we took the plunge together. Went to talk out our shit. Got better. Didn’t fix everything, but we just wanted better. Better was all we could aspire for and got damn it felt so fucking good to be better. To feel better. To feel like we could live and thrive.”

YN hadn’t realized tears began to fall until Hoseok wiped them from her cheeks. She blew out a burst of air and tried to pull it together.

“We can stop there. You’ve said so much and I don’t want you to keep going and getting yourself even more worked up. You don’t have to do this, baby,” he said.

Of course, she shook her head again. Stopping would give her time to calm down, but she didn’t want to emotionally decompress and then get worked up again. It was best to get it out all at once.

“I’m almost done,” she said.

“You sure?”

“Yeah. Yup.”

“Okay.”

That time she squeezed his hand to gain strength to continue.

“I went to school for nursing first. I knew I wanted to be a doctor, but I thought becoming a nurse first would help out. It would mean I got hands on while in medical school and where I work now offered to pay for me if I worked there and went to school. So by the time I was doing my residency I was so immersed that I was doing more than a lot of the other residents. And that meant that I worked more intimately with patients.

“I was on my pediatric rotation when she came in with a little boy with a high fever. They had her step out so when I arrived she wasn’t in the room. I was told to comfort the kid and get him treated. So, I did that. And about twenty minutes in she appeared. I was turned around so she couldn’t see my face, but she thanked me and I recognized the voice. When I turned the smile she’d been wearing was gone and replaced with shock, then anger. She was angry with me. As if I’d done anything wrong. And not being an idiot I put two and two together. I requested to be switched out because of our relationship despite having not seen her in like ten years or so. But instead of just letting me be so we could continue that way, she felt the need to pull me to the side to tell me about myself. How I was wrong for not just doing my job seeing as we had no relationship. How just because we’d run into each other there was nothing that was going to change. How I shouldn’t get my hopes up. How she was living such a great life with her husband.”

“She fucking what?” Hoseok shouted.

“Yup. And I told her that I didn’t give a fuck despite the pain I felt inside as I was being rejected again. I told her it didn’t matter and I wanted nothing to do with her or her family. And then I walked away from her. Then four years later we ran into each other and she had this guilt on her face. She cornered me to talk, to apologize, to say how her son needed his big sister, to say how sorry her husband was. And by then I was so fed up that I told her to fuck off. That I wanted nothing to do with any of that. Then I went to an emergency therapy session to talk that through and get validation on my right to not want to forgive them or deal with my half–sibling. And here we are now. Years later and she still tries. And sometimes I think maybe I should talk to them, but I can’t.”

Without missing a beat Hoseok let go of her hand and used his hands to cup her face so he could make her look at him. His eyes were intense, but kind and he looked at her with sadness, but not pity.

“And you don’t have to. They messed up, not you. You hold the right to choose how you proceed. And if that means not talking to her son then that’s fine. You don’t owe that kid your time when he puts you in proximity to people who hurt you. Especially people who should have been there for you like they were for him. You are doing wonderfully, YN. You are living a life you want and working on your issues. You are being the best you can and that is what matters. You are what matters,” he said.

His words came down on her hard and before she knew it she launched herself forward into him. Hoseok moved his arms so they wrapped around her and he let her cry into his chest. He simply whispered soft words of encouragement and validation.

It felt so good. Like she’d lifted a weight off. It didn’t take everything away, but something about it made things feel a little less trash. A little less hopeless.

It’s what sharing did for her and she was so happy to have someone else to share stuff with.

They stayed like that for a while until they realized two and a half hours had passed and everyone would come looking for them if they didn’t go back. So, after ensuring that YN was good they walked back to the apartment, hand and hand with laughter flowing between them.

When they’d finally managed to go on a date it was about a month after the incident with YN’s mother. Hoseok had so many appointments and events to go to that for once it wasn’t her schedule in the way. But when he was finally free of work he asked her to accompany him out to an amusement park on a Saturday evening. YN loved them so she didn’t hesitate in saying yes.

Hoseok picked her up after he finished his last session of the day. And he looked way too attractive. His black, ripped skinny jeans gave her the perfect view of his tanned firm thighs. And he’d opted for a short sleeve shirt, which meant that the sleeves on his arms were on display. Also, though YN hated to admit it, the backwards snapback he had on had the weirdest effect on her. Usually she rolled her eyes at people wearing them because they were often try hard, wannabe fuck boys, but the fuck boy aesthetic fit Hoseok well.

Too well.

However, YN wasn’t allowed to linger on that long. For some reason Hoseok felt the need to rush and practically dragged her down to his car the moment she had her shoes on. And once in the car he seemed very focused on driving so she didn’t try to maintain conversation, just stared out of the window and took the time to relax.

Moments of peace were rare and she’d take them whenever she could.

By the time they arrived at the amusement park Hoseok’s serious focus appeared to dissolve into nervous tics. He chewed on his lip aggressively and wouldn’t stop tapping his finger on the steering wheel. Even when he pulled into a spot and turned off the engine he still stayed that way, not glancing YN’s way at all.

“Hobi,” YN said while placing a hand on his thigh.

It took a moment but when he finally did look her way he put on a smile, though it seemed a little forced. And the nervousness laced into his expression didn’t falter at all.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

There was a head shake and a shrug from him, which was clearly a lie and YN planned to call him on it until he had a change of heart.

“I’m feeling unnecessarily nervous. It’s normal, the idea of roller coasters do that to me and I get on them anyway. But for some reason it’s worse this time,” he said.

YN opened her mouth to offer something else but was cut off.

“And don’t say we can do something else. I asked you to come here because I wanted to come and know you love amusement parks. It was my decision and I’m sticking to it.”

Again, YN prepared to reassure him that somewhere else was fine, but then he narrowed his eyes at her and she shut up. Even using her hand to mime zipping her mouth shut, locking it, and throwing away the key.

That got him to laugh and that’s all she needed.

After that they got out of the car and headed towards the entrance. Hoseok paid for them to get in and YN having spent time with him knew not to try and fight him on it. He was the only one besides Yoongi and Seokjin who could get her to put her money away, despite the ongoing war of paying within the friend group.

From there they entered the park which had many people walking around, but not the usual crowd. She chalked it up to people wanting to visit the fair that set up shop about twenty minutes away from the park and had a limited opening. It was also an option that Hoseok had mentioned, but YN knew all too well that fairs were never as exciting as someone thought they were. They’d be a smaller version of the amusement park where you hoped to find something new to do and you would find the same games or rides as the park, at a more expensive price. It just wasn’t worth it.

“So, where do you want to go first?” Hoseok asked.

That pulled YN from her people watching and forced her to look at the rides and games. She wanted to playthings, but she also knew that if they won anything it would have to be carried around the park until they left. So, games were a no. Also, she wanted to get on more calm rides, because she loved them as much as the high and fast ones, but that felt like a good wind down.

“How about that?” she said while pointing to the biggest ride in the park off in the distance.

Hoseok looked at her incredulously. Poor man looked scared out of his mind and it was kind of adorable.

“What? Why? Can’t we work our way up to that? There is an adorable merry go round that I’m just dying to see you on,” he said.

More like pleaded.

“The merry go round is for later. I want to work my way down, not up. But if you’re uncomfortable we can start on something else or not even ride it.”

No matter how much YN wanted to go on the ride she wouldn’t force him. The date was supposed to be fun and she couldn’t live with herself if she made Hoseok do anything that he didn’t want to do.

When a minute passed and he said nothing she knew the answer.

“We can go on the swinging ship instead, Hobi. It’s a good starter ride,” she said.

Hoseok nodded, but the moment she started walking he shook it.

“No,” he said, taking a deep break before speaking again. “We can go on the big one. I’m just not used to jumping right on it and if I’m honest I usually avoid it unless Jungkook drags me on, but I can do it. It’s fine.”

“Hoseok…”

The fear slipped from Hoseok’s expression as he turned to cup YN’s face, a smile forming on his lips.

“It’s fine. I promise. Though you might have to hold my hand the whole way there,” he said.

YN rolled her eyes at his cheesiness but held out her hand for him to take anyway. And once their fingers were laced together Hoseok started running. There was a struggle to keep up and she cursed him multiple times, but she kept going until they reached the line.

Of course it was long and she was ready to wait, but then Hoseok steered her towards a different line which was much shorter. She looked at him with a raised brow, but all he did was smirk and flashed her the two fast passes he had. YN’s eyes went wide because she hadn’t even heard him ask for those. But nonetheless she was excited and expressed that by leaning closer and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Instead of averting his gaze like he often did Hoseok merely leaned in to press a kiss to her cheek in return. Which brought a wide smile to YN’s lips and that only seemed to make Hoseok’s grow wider.

They stayed like that – like the dorks they were – until they realized they were next in the line. And that info brough Hoseok’s nerves back in full force. YN did as best she could keeping him calm with sweet words and several hand squeezes. She worried it wasn’t enough as they were strapped into the ride and Hoseok started biting his lip again. The voice in the back of her head told her to tell the person in charge that they were getting off, but then she watched as Hoseok took a long deep breath and the tension melted from his face. He smiled and turned to wink at her as the ride started moving.

That reassured her and since the ride moved she focused on what was in front of her. She felt her stomach dip immediately and squeezed her thighs together best she could as they approached the drop. The discomfort before things got started was her least favorite part, but the feeling she got after made it worth it.

And it was very worth it.

The ride dropped and she felt like she was in another world as it twisted, turned, rose, and fell again. It excited her and she was so happy that she started laughing, which surely made for a horrible picture but she didn’t care.

By the end of the ride she was more than eager to get on another and though frazzled, Hoseok also felt that way. So, as soon as their stuff was collected from the bin they were on their way.

They zoomed to every ride they could get to and luck just happened to be on their side almost every time. So, few people used the fast pass lane and that meant they were on a new one minutes after leaving the others. And they used that to ensure they got on as many as possible. The only time they stopped was to get little snacks here and there, both worried that too much would trigger nausea and/or vomiting.

It was just pure fun. The type that YN didn’t always have time for. And the type that Hoseok didn’t always look for.

For about four hours they hopped around from ride to ride, but at some point the excitement and adrenaline wore them down.

“Okay. I think I’m getting too old to be getting on these rides all day,” Hoseok said as they finished one of those rise slowly and drop quickly rides.

He sounded out of breath and YN felt out of breath. There was only so much that a body could take, even if they were technically just sitting there and going along with how things moved. At some point you’d zap all your energy or get your adrenaline too high too often, and that was not good at all.

“Same. Want to switch to games?” she asked.

“Yes, please,” he said.

And just like that they laced their fingers together and walked towards the front of the park. Most, if not all, of the games were up front. Of course, it was just a ploy to get children excited immediately and thus make parents spend more money sooner. Also, to remind them and the kids to try for one of the prizes as they left. It worked out for them well enough. YN remembered coming as a kid and begging Mama Min to let her spend her allowance on trying for a large stuffed teddy bear. Which she failed to do, only for Yoongi to try once and win it for her. She’d never been so grateful and salty in her life.

But regardless of that she usually did the games because she liked the competition and had mastered a few. So even if she failed for what she really wanted, she got something. And even if she didn’t the world wouldn’t end because she wasn’t stupid enough to spend a whole lot of money on the games.

Thirteen–year–old her would’ve been shocked.

“How about the basketball one?” Hoseok offered.

That brought a smile to her face.

“Yes.”

Hoseok led them that way and before he could stop her YN paid for three rounds. He of course was displeased but didn’t utter a word about it. In fact, his body language shifted and he released her hand and grabbed a ball from his side of the stand.

“I can’t beat Yoongi, but I should be able to beat you. One of you siblings needs to be taken down a peg,” he muttered.

The urge to cackle at that was strong, but YN maintained an aura of nonchalance. Getting cocky or showing too much confidence would make him nervous and she wanted to kick his ass when he thought he had it in the bag.

After she grabbed her own ball the stand worker started up the timer and they got to work. YN didn’t glance Hoseok’s way once, just kept shooting the balls into the hoop and sinking most of them. Even when the new rounds started she continued to remain focused. It wasn’t until Hoseok missed his last ball that she turned his way, smiling and winking before she shot her ball and it sunk in.

Nothing brought her joy like seeing the defeat and incredulous look on Hoseok’s face after she’d done it. The laughter that fell from her lips was involuntary, but she made no attempt to stop herself. It was just too funny.

“Ho… how are you so good at this?” he asked, practically shrieking.

It took a minute, but YN pulled herself together.

“Who do you think was forced to play with Yoongi so he could practice when he didn’t have team practice? He dragged me everywhere, most times against my will. So, I got decent at it. And then we would come do these games and learned how much force and what angle worked best to force it through. You never stood a chance, love,” she said.

At that Hoseok merely pouted and YN turned to request the large bunny that hung close to the top. She thanked the worker and then turned back to Hoseok.

“I thought you weren’t fond of bunnies?” Hoseok asked.

YN shrugged. “It’s for Kookie, he loves them and he was eyeing this the last time we came here. We had to leave quickly so we didn’t have time to stop though.”

“Oh.”

All YN did was nod and then stare at Hoseok waiting for him to say something else. The pout was still on his lips, but there was also a slight twitch that showed that he fought off a smile. It took a moment for him to notice her looking at him though and then he was shaking his head and focusing on her.

“You want to do a few more? It’s getting late and you know that means a flood of teenagers are about to come,” he said.

“Sure, a few more times of me beating you won’t hurt,” she teased while nudging him.

“Oh, so that’s how it is? It’s on,” he said.

Then just like with the rides they found themselves immersed in games. There were only a few people playing them so they got to play almost immediately. It was a war of games and who could manage to pay first. And though Hoseok did well to beat her with paying, he didn’t fare so well with the games themselves.

After they finished with the water squirting game YN had won all but one game. Besides the bunny she’d given her prizes to kids who’d been nearby or watched their competitions. Hoseok won a baseball related one and had his own snake, which he told YN was for her since she was one. Lying to him about not being good at games and then beating him by a long shot.

The entire walk to the car he pouted, not uttering a single word. Even when they put their prizes in the trunk and got in he didn’t speak. It wasn’t until he’d started the car, put it in reverse so he could pull out, and then put it back in park did he speak.

“How could you beat me in almost everything?” he whined.

If YN didn’t find his pouting so adorable she’d be annoyed with him, but there was no way she could resist that face. Even the whining was endearing. The man had her close to whipped.

But despite how much she relished in it she still rolled her eyes at him.

“I spent a lot of time playing games like that. After a while even the ones you suck at become easier. It’s not because you're bad at it, I’m just really good,” she said.

That didn’t stop the whining and at some point she simply unbuckled herself so she could lean over the center console and shut him up with her lips. Hoseok gave in quickly, his hand slipping to cup her face as he pressed closer. And the longer their lips pressed together the more worked up it made YN. At some point she nipped at his lower lip with her teeth causing his lips to part and her tongue the chance to slip in. As their tongues intertwined she pressed closer to him, almost sliding into his lap. And she would have done that if the sound of a car horn hadn’t startled them into pulling apart.

YN’s head whipped around immediately, but she couldn’t find where it came from. Which she was grateful for since she couldn’t deal with the embarrassment of someone watching them.

She slid back into her seat and readjusted her shirt, which had risen as their kiss had grown more aggressive. Once presentable she turned to Hoseok again, who stared at her with an intense look in his eyes and while chewing on his lower lip. Which immediately made her want to kiss him again because they were so soft and nice against hers.

Then a lightbulb moment happened.

Leaning over the center console again she stopped and watched as he tried to close the space but pulled away a little. When she did there was some rumbling sound he made, but no attempt to move close again.

“How about I make it up to you for beating you?”

If she assumed that his expression couldn’t get any more intense, any more lust filled, she was wrong. Hoseok leaned closer to her as if to kiss her, but then he didn’t.

“You can definitely do that,” he whispered.

And just like that he was reaching over to re–buckled her seat belt and pulled out of the parking lot. As he drove YN turned her head so she could smile without him seeing, because if she learned anything from the first and only time they’d slept together it was that any perceived cockiness from her meant more teasing and she didn’t want that.

The car ride back to his place was silent, but their lack of interaction didn’t dim the tension in the car. Especially with how much of it radiated from Hoseok. When YN would glance his way his face was serious and his hands gripped the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles were white. And if he happened to glance her way when she looked at him he gave that megawatt smile that sent a tingle down her spine.

By the time they reached the parking lot YN was sure that there was a damp spot on her panties and feared that any time spent unable to do anything would cause it to grow. Maybe even expand so much that the shorts she wore were affected.

Thankfully, Hoseok wasted no time. He got out so fast that he was at her door before she could fully open it and took her hand to lead her inside. Not a word was uttered as he led her through the lobby to the elevator and even in there he was silent. It made YN antsy, but also excited. They’d avoided sex every time they hung out, despite a few times where it seemed like they’d give in.

Once they were inside of Hoseok’s apartment everything shifted. The tension was still there, but it dimmed. Hoseok had been in front of her the whole time and by the time she’d kicked off her shoes he’d finally turned to her was a calm, soft look.

“What’s wro–” she started.

“You’re sure about this, right? And I don’t mean as in if you’re sure about having sex, but how we’re going to do this? It’s my default and if you want to do it another way we can. But I need to know what you want before I proceed.”

It was almost like the little rambling speech he gave before they fucked the first time and she still thought it was sweet. That despite her reassurances and him knowing she was into it that he’d constantly make sure before he proceeded.

“Seeing as part of the reason I made sure to kick your ass in every game was to get you riled up, yes I’m sure. I appreciate you asking though,” she said.

That first sentence was all that was needed to flip his switch so he went back to the lust driven man from before.

“Oh, so you thought it would be fun to play games?” he asked, but YN knew it was rhetorical so she remained silent.

When he didn’t get a response from her Hoseok smiled and motioned her forward. And without a thought she moved towards him, though she walked slower than she usually did. Which was something that Hoseok seemed to notice but didn’t comment on.

YN stopped with a few inches between them, far enough that they weren’t exactly in each other’s faces but she could feel Hoseok’s breath on her. She’d contemplated staying back a little farther but had to remind herself that she’d messed with him enough to get herself in trouble and didn’t want to make it worse.

At least not this time.

But she didn’t have to worry about displeasing him for long, because the moment she stopped his hands cupped her face and his lips smashed into hers. He just barely missed knocking their heads together, but that thought was gone the more she got into the kiss. Just like in the car it was passionate and needy. Hoseok attacked her lips with such vigor that she couldn’t help the excitement and arousal that bubbled inside of her. She was beyond eager to continue just kissing him despite the need for more though. The idea of pulling away didn’t make her happy.

Which meant Hoseok did just that as she nipped at his lower lip. A whine escaped her because of it, but he merely laughed at her. He then grabbed her hand and led her out of the mini hallway and towards his bedroom. Part of her wanted to say the couch was closer, but his bed was bigger and far more comfortable.

The moment they entered the room he released her hand and went to sit on the edge of the bed. He motioned her forward and she went, but when he patted his thigh she hesitated. It was only for a second, but he noticed it.

“I’m not dealing with you talking about being too heavy to sit on my lap. Daddy’s thigh. Now,” he said.

The fact that he remembered after one instance of her saying that in a non–sexual scenario made her cheeks heat up. Not enough to be seen, but enough for her to be slightly more embarrassed by knowing she was blushing.

Not wanting to prolong anything she carefully sat down on his left thigh and much to her pleasure he reconnected their lips. Her arms moved to wrap around his neck as she pressed closed to him, her breasts pushed hard against his chest. That time she wasted no time trying to get him to part his lips and at first he ignored her, but then he bit down on her lip in a way that was almost painful but was right in the threshold of what she took pleasure in. His tongue slipped in and immediately they were tangled together.

So, wrapped up in the kiss YN didn’t really notice Hoseok’s hands move to her hips and guide her up and down his thigh. Well that and the thickness of her shorts. But when she did begin to feel the friction against her covered crotch a moan slipped from her mouth immediately, though it was muffled by Hoseok’s lips.

At that point she didn’t hesitate in helping him out – though it also helped her. She pressed down on his thigh and moved her hips along with his hands, though she tried to move faster as the need for more pleasure increased, but of course Hoseok corrected her form. He used one of his hands to smack her ass and she knew to stop. Though him spanking her only made her much hornier.

Eventually he moved her faster and their lips parted, but she was so wrapped up in the pleasure of riding his thigh that it didn’t matter. As her hips picked up speed she threw her head back and a chorus of moans escaped her.

She wanted more. Needed more.

Hoseok watched her for a while, saw her pleasuring herself and then his lips mouth was on her neck. That sparked something more in her as they trailed down her neck, sucking marks into her skin as they got lower and lower. When they reached the top of her breasts the sounds she made stuttered a little. The skin there grew overly sensitive in sexual situations and that was definitely the case then. Every touch made her feel electrified and thus explained the whimpers that poured out of her.

And she didn’t even have time to feel embarrassed.

No, YN’s focus was solely on her own high and with how little action she’d gotten over the last few months she got close quickly. And she thought she was a few more strokes away from reaching that, until she was suddenly on her back being pressed into the bed.

So wrapped up in herself YN failed to notice Hoseok leverage her weight to shift their positions. Instead of on his lap he was between her legs. The only constant was his thigh and the fact that he hadn’t stopped rubbing it against her.

“You were getting off so well on my thigh, baby,” he said.

YN nodded, her mind drifting to the way his leg was pressed firmly against her. With him more in control there was more pressure and it made the friction much more enjoyable.

“You want to cum on my thigh? Want me to finish you off this way?”

Again, YN nodded, though it was more frantic. She was so close and she needed a little more to push her over the edge, but then he stopped. A grunt of disapproval escaped her as she felt the climax fade away slowly.

Grabbing her face, Hoseok made her look at him. She was forced to see his smirking face as she felt her high slip away from her. A whimper slipped from her lips and she pouted.

“Nope, don’t give me that. You know you have to use your words, baby. Answer my question,” he said.

“Yes, I want to get off this way,” she practically shouted.

Though seemingly displeased by her loudness Hoseok didn’t waste another second. Instead of his thigh though, he used his knee to press against her. It could provide more pressure and once he started moving it her stomach tangled in notes quickly. Her hands gripped the cover for strength and she arched her back a little hoping to get closer.

At some point the feeling of his knee hurt a little, but she was so close that she didn’t care. The pleasure outweighed the pain – and even added to it.

But despite her proximity to reaching her climax she felt frustrated. It felt so far away and she was whining more than moaning at that point. She thought she’d never get there and then suddenly her body tensed, then relaxed. With a jolt she came, her mouth opened wide with not a sound coming out as she rode the wave of it.

There wasn’t much time for her to recover though, because Hoseok already had her shorts unbuckled and pulled them down along with her panties. The cool air made her squirm as it brushed against her sensitive clit. She whined, which made Hoseok pause with a brow raised.

“Done after one orgasm?” he teased.

YN huffed. “Never.”

That made Hoseok smile wider as he threw her clothes to the side and lowered himself so his body hovered over hers. She watched him as his head tilted down to press a kiss to her forehead and then he just continued lower. Her nose, lips, neck, collarbone, her chest. He only paused once he got to the top of her breasts, his eyes flickering up towards her. She knew that look from the first time and immediately narrowed her eyes at him. All he did in return was smirk and then move his hands to the bottom of her shirt instead of just tearing the flimsy material.

The process of getting it and her bra off was fast and before she could throw the material his lips were around her right nipple. He suckled on it and allowed his tongue to teasingly circle the bud. It hardened faster than when exposed to cool air. And despite his complete focus on that one he didn’t leave the left one out. Hoseok rubbed the peak between his fingers and occasionally pulled on it. And at some point he switched nipples giving each the same treatment the other had received.

Somewhere along the way YN’s eyes fluttered closed as she unraveled under his mouth. It aroused her; her body ready for another climax. And though she knew it was possible with him just doing that she wanted something more.

Though she knew what it could earn her YN began squirming underneath him. Her movements were small at first, but the more they went ignored the more she moved. Until finally Hoseok bit down on her left nipple and she released an involuntary moan, that sounded slightly like a scream.

He pressed a soft kiss to it after that and then pulled away from her chest, brow raised as he looked down at her.

“Impatient, are we?”

“A little,” YN whispered.

And for a moment that made the expression on his face shift. The smile on his lips was genuine and he even reached up to softly caress her cheek. But it truly only lasted for a moment before he was back to staring her down with a mischievous look.

“Rushing me will cost you, baby. But don’t worry you’ll enjoy it,” he said with a wink.

That sparked a little fear into YN, but also made her eagerly anticipate what was to come. And Hoseok was nice enough to not leave her waiting for too long.

Just as he had been before he pressed kisses down her body. The ones across her stomach tickled, but she tried her best to fight the giggles that wanted to escape. She focused on the way he got slower as he got closer to between her legs. How his eyes flickered up towards her every so often as he did it. She thought he would tease her by placing kisses against her thighs or just close enough to her clit without touching it, but he did no such thing.

The moment Hoseok’s head was between her legs his lips suckled on her clit, his fingers spreading her open for him. A gasp sounded from her at the abrupt action, the feeling of his warm mouth heightening the pleasure of his touch. The way he sucked on it with enough force that it stimulated her enough without extra interaction.

But then he abruptly stopped.

In place of his lips was his thumb, rubbing slow circles against her clit. His mouth ventured lower, his tongue lapping at the cum from her previous climax. He made a purring sound as he licked her clean and they were almost drowned out by the noises YN was making. She hadn’t realized she missed being eaten out, especially by Hoseok, until he was doing it and she didn’t want him to stop. Surely, she could come several times just from his mouth.

But of course just as she grew comfortable with that he switched it up on her. His tongue still ran along her folds, but he used his hand not against her clit to slip a finger inside of her. Which caused her hips to jolt and her to arch to be closer to him. That made him laugh and the vibrations from it heightened the pleasure she felt and made her arch even more.

However, Hoseok put that to a stop quickly.

Because of her neediness he stopped playing with her clit to use that arm to push her hips down. She whined at the loss and was going to vocally object, but then the finger inside of her began moving. It was a brisk back and forth motion, but then he curled it upwards and again her hips jolted. There was no chance for her to move closer though because he maintained pressure to keep her down.

After a bit of going on like that Hoseok pulled away to look up at her. His lips formed a pout, but she knew that it was just to tease her.

“You’re squirming so much, love. Is it because you want more?” he asked.

YN caught herself about to nod and cleared her throat before speaking. Though it didn’t help the voice crack.

“Yes.”

Instead of continuing from there Hoseok stared at her and for several seconds she was confused, but then she got it.

“Yes, Daddy,” she whispered.

“Good girl.”

Those were his final words before his mouth reattached to her clit and he added a second finger. His pace before had been moderate, but that time he moved his fingers at a briskly and slammed them into her as if they were his dick.

Naturally, there were no complaints from her. With her lip between her teeth she propped herself up on her elbows to get a better view of him. The attention to her pussy was one thing but watching him do it was another. Seeing the way his mouth attacked her clit made her even wetter and she felt the coil in her stomach tightening.

At one point he hit just the right spot with his fingers that it had her screaming out for him. She even almost lost balance and barely caught herself before she was flat on her back again.

“More. Please more,” she begged.

Despite not using his title Hoseok didn’t deny her of her request. He slid both fingers out and then slipped in three instead. It was a bit of a stretch, but she didn’t mind at all. And a stretch is what she’d need before she could take him.

And of course, the thought of taking him only brought her more pleasure.

She reached a point where she knew she was moments away from cumming again and she needed it bad. So, she laid back again and used her hands to play with her nipples. Pinching and twisting them to respark their sensitivity. All while watching Hoseok between her legs.

Who knows how long it took, but unlike her first orgasm she felt that one coming. Her body tensed, her hips bucking enough that Hoseok lost his grip and couldn’t stop her from arching up.

Not that he really tried.

While she came he was still licking her and his fingers were still driving into her. They didn’t slow or falter for a second. And he kept going even after she’d finished. Which meant that he was working on her sensitive pussy. She always needed a minute between orgasms, but Hoseok wouldn’t let up.

Whimpers escaped her lips from the discomfort, but then Hoseok made eye contact. He held her gaze in a way that ensured she couldn’t look away and she watched as he pulled his fingers out of her and licked each one clean. A moan got stuck in her throat as she watched him, her lips aching to be the ones around his fingers instead.

The show didn’t stop there though. Once he’d licked clean Hoseok lowered his head again and YN watched him lick her thoroughly. She could feel his tongue on every part of her pussy and with the way her body reacted it felt like she was dealing with orgasm aftershocks. But nothing compared to the moment when he wrapped his arms around her thighs and yanked her forward before tongue fucking her.

“Fuck,” she whispered repeatedly.

Her eyes clamped shut, but Hoseok dug his fingers into her thigh and she reopened them. His eyes were still on her as he continued fucking her that way and they entranced her again. All she wanted to do was watch him.

Then, in an embarrassing amount of time, she found her pussy spasming and herself cumming again. It was strong and a little painful, but nothing that she couldn’t handle. Until of course it didn’t end as it usually did. She laid there for a while and was unsure how much time passed before her body truly relaxed. Her eyes had glossed over and by the time she came to fully Hoseok was hovering over her with a smile but worry in his eyes.

She took a deep breath and then spoke. “I’m good.”

A sigh escaped him and she assumed it was one of relief.

“Good. But maybe I should give you a break for a bit. I have something else you can do,” he said.

Though a tad drained the idea of him having something for her to do made her perk up. She really hoped it was what she thought it was.

After pressing a quick kiss to her lips Hoseok climbed off the bed and though confused for a moment soon enough she heard things dropping onto the floor and the sound of a zipper. Following a few deep breaths she sat up fully and watched as Hoseok pushed down his jeans and boxers.

And just like that she was drooling.

His dick was hard and a bit red from lack of attention. It pressed up against his stomach and she could see how wide it was. Hoseok was about average size in length, but in girth he definitely surpassed her past sexual partners and the few pornstars she frequently watched if she was failing to cum on her own.

Him inside her was a nice stretch. That included her mouth and pussy.

So, the moment she had it within reach she got on her hands and knees to crawl towards him. She stopped at the edge of the bed and though she wanted to grab it immediately she didn’t. Her head tilted back a little and she looked up at him with a soft pout upon her lips.

Of course Hoseok knew what she wanted, but naturally he wouldn’t just give it to her.

“Words,” he said.

She chose her words carefully. “Can I touch you?”

That stupid mischievous grin made an appearance again and she was sure he was going to deny her or find some way to twist her words. Hoseok was like a genie and you often had to be specific.

But he surprised her.

“Go ahead. I’ll save that for another time. Right now I just want to feel that sweet little mouth of yours.”

YN didn’t need to be told twice. Her hand wrapped around him as she used her other arm to prop her up a little. Not bothering with teasing her mouth opened and she took in a quarter of his dick. She lightly sucked on the tip, coating it with her saliva. That didn’t last for long because soon enough she was releasing the head and running her tongue along him. There was no guarantee that she’d be able to take him fully and she needed something to coat him while she simultaneously jerked him off.

Though her focus was his dick it didn’t mean she left his balls hanging. After she’d hit base her head lowered and she took it all on in her mouth, sucking it hard. It’s what finally got a response out of Hoseok, who tended to try and keep his cool.

And the grunting noise he made only incentivized her. She released it from her mouth and her tongue flicked across both of them. Her mouth occasionally enclosing around one of them.

It didn’t last long because one tug of her braid and she was kissing up his cock until she reached the tip. Her eyes angled up to make eye contact with Hoseok as her lips parted and she took him in. That time she took him in about halfway before raising her head nearly off him. She maintained eye contact as her head bobbed and she got into a rhythm and then she broke it to take him down farther.

Her right hand firmly on the lower half of his dick moved as she moved her mouth. They moved in perfect unison and when her mouth tightened around him, so did her hand. YN worked herself up to a good pace that way, reaching a point where she was moving in a way that made it easier for her to take more of him. It stretched her cheeks a fair amount, but what was a little discomfort when she got to choke on his dick.

And choke she did.

Once she got comfortable she got more adventurous. Doing her best to keep her mouth wide and relaxed she took in most of him, leaving and inch or two untouched. But after several attempts she finally conquered all of it, taking him down her throat and holding it before coming back up for air. She did that as many times as she could.

Hoseok seemed to appreciate it if the sounds he made were any indication. Or the way he fisted her hair.

It was clear that he was close and goodness did YN want him to cum in her mouth. She ached for him to climax as if it were her doing it and with how worked up she was it would definitely lead to hers sooner rather than later.

To move things along her hand moved down to massage his poor neglected balls. She’d been so focused on getting him into her mouth she’d forgotten to give them attention. So, she carefully rubbed them around in her hand, squeezing every so often.

Response from him was positive and she could feel that he was ready to let go.

“Stop. I am not cumming in your mouth. Not this time,” he said through gritted teeth.

Despite that YN didn’t stop. In fact, she picked up speed and deep throated him while squeezing his balls and despite his efforts to pull her off it didn’t happen in time. His release came out in spurts and shot down her throat. As it did she slowly pulled him out of her mouth, though she didn’t fully release him until she was sure he was done.

If she was going to get in trouble she was going to make sure she got every drop of it.

The moment she pulled away though she was suddenly being pushed back on the bed. Before she could even respond Hoseok was over her and though his eyes appeared blown out from the orgasm there was also some anger radiating off him.

“What did I tell you to do? Stop. And yet you can’t seem to follow instructions. This is the third time you’ve gotten daddy riled up baby and I’ve been nice but that has to end,” he said.

His voice was so soft with its false sense of kindness that if she hadn’t known what she did pissed him off she’d think it wouldn’t be that bad. But Hoseok was a consistent and forward person, he’d made his rules and intentions clear upon the first meeting and she knew they hadn’t changed. Not unless she wanted something different and even then they wouldn’t budge all that much.

Knowing Hoseok expected no response from her she remained silent, which didn’t seem to make him upset or pleased which she preferred. Honestly, she preferred him to say something, anything else. But he remained hovered over her, his smile growing in a way that almost made him appear a bit scary, which made her worry a little bit about what would come.

Punishment could be anything.

Then after making her squirm under his gaze Hoseok rolled off her, laying on his side beside her instead. He didn’t utter any commands, just used his own hands to spread her legs farther. It gave him the perfect view of her glistening pussy. A mix of her last orgasm and her arousal from sucking his dick.

Next thing she knew his hand made contact in a swift slapping motion against her pussy and she jumped a little. The pain was sudden and slowly dwindled to nothingness. Not that he really allowed her to experience that relief before his hand made contact again. Each strike was harder then the last and they were so out of rhythm that YN could never truly prepare for the next one.

Despite that it didn’t stop or halt her arousal, in fact it merely ramped up. If she couldn’t feel how wet she was, surely she could hear it every time he spanked her. The noise was loud and clear.

“So, now your compliant. Not fighting me much or putting up a fuss. Just sitting here and taking it. You must really be enjoying yourself,” Hoseok said just as he made his hardest impact.

A tingle ran down her spine and YN couldn’t be sure if it was from the pain or the pleasure. Maybe a mix of both. Or just his words.

“I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself. I wouldn’t want you to not have some fun. And with how fucking soaked you are, I should be able to do this with ease.”

Before she could process what he meant two of his fingers slipped inside of her. There was no buildup of the pace or the intensity, he simply moved them as quickly as he could and with every push in his palm slapped against her clit. It was overwhelming to go from one intense form of stimulation to the other so quickly and without warning. Her body felt like it vibrated as she endured it.

Very quickly it became too much, because despite Hoseok not having a lot of leverage from his position he still knew how to do it just right. How to bend and twist his fingers just enough to make penetration feel like enough to make her reach climax.

And she almost reached it, her walls tighten around his fingers and she felt ready to go over the edge, but then he stopped.

Bewildered YN turned her head to look at him. Hoseok just stared at her with a smile. It’s when she realized what her punishment truly was. The spanking wasn’t enough, he was going to deny her orgasm.

She wanted to scream.

“Open,” he said.

Though she didn’t know why he wanted her to do that she still complied. Her mouth opened as wide as it could get and then he placed the fingers that had been inside her between her lips. And without having to be told her mouth enclosed around them, sucking them clean.

“You thought you were going to get to cum again didn’t you? How greedy of you, baby. You can’t think I’d let you off that easily?”

Not being able to speak, but also knowing no response could make things worse YN nodded. Her movements were slow and she watched his expression closely to see how he’d react. The small genuine smile that graced his lips for a moment let her know that she’d done the right thing.

After she’d thoroughly licked his fingers clean he pulled them from her mouth and they went back down between her legs. They didn’t slip in immediately though, instead he used them to rub circles and figure eights on her clit. It was sensitive from his previous actions, so every touch made her hips buck forward. She couldn’t keep still and Hoseok seemed to be amused by it.

“So sensitive and responsive. You’d think that you’d be running away from me and yet you press forward wanting more. So eager for daddy, love?” he asked.

“Yes,” YN said, though it came out hoarse so she repeated it.

Hoseok hummed in response, his fingers moved lower and then he slid three inside of her. She’d cum enough and was wet enough that they entered with ease. That didn’t mean she didn’t feel the stretch they caused, which was so delicious that she purred in response to it.

The pace that time was slow. Painstakingly slow. YN wasn’t sure if it was better or worse, but at least it was something. And with her impending orgasm having not faded quickly the buildup happened faster. Though she ached to tease her clit to move things along but knowing Hoseok that would make it worse.

And she feared that he’d snatch it away again.

While she languished in the feel of his fingers her head fell back against the bed and she moaned out. Her hands longed for something to do, so she slowly creeped them up to her breasts. When Hoseok caught wind of the movement he stared at her for a moment before nodding. Not needing to be told twice her fingers lightly flitted over her nipples. They hadn’t been played with in a while but were still rock hard and responsive to her touch. As she carefully tweaked and pulled at them a chill ran through her.

It felt so close and she needed it so bad. She pinched harder hoping to ignite more pleasure in herself and push things along, which helped greatly. Her eyes fluttered closed as she felt her walls pulsate and she hit the edge, but again it was snatched from her.

“Nope. Eyes open baby,” Hoseok said and though she couldn’t see him she could hear the amusement in his voice.

Her eyes flew open and she cried out, her body shaking a little from the feeling of being denied yet again. She felt so frustrated and eventually let out a scream to make that clear.

But that didn’t seem to faze Hoseok one bit. The little shit just laid there and smiled down at her.

“Poor baby. You can’t hide those pretty eyes from me. You have to watch while I do this. Can you do that?” he asked.

Though her want to be compliant waned she nodded and mumbled a yes.

Apparently, it was enough for Hoseok because he slid his finger back inside of her and continued his painfully slow fingering.

That made YN more frustrated than she could comprehend and she was eager to defy him, but she thought of something better. Turning her head she looked at Hoseok whose eyes were glued between her legs, but eventually met her own. She chewed on her lower lip and stared into his eyes, whimpering and moaning whenever he hit just the right spot. No matter how much she wanted to close her eyes in pleasure she resisted and maintained that contact.

It wasn’t instantaneous, but there was a shift in Hoseok. He went from stoic and mischievous to the lust filled eyes he’d had in the car on the way there. His fingers picked up the pace – which she wasn’t sure was intentional – and he watched closely as she continued to voice sounds of pleasure.

Something in him was cracking.

Not seeing that as enough of a change in him YN reached over to cup the back of his head, her own moving closer to press a kiss against his lips. It was gentle, but passionate and she knew that her neediness was clear. After she pulled away, but only enough that she could see his eyes and he happened to hit just the right spot to set her off.

“Please, Daddy. Please. I need to cum so bad,” she whispered.

There was no reaction for a few seconds, but then his fingers pulled out and she thought she’d failed. That wasn’t the case though.

“On your hands and knees, baby. The only way you’re cumming again is on my cock,” he said.

YN was sure she had never moved so fast in her life, because within three seconds she’d flipped on her stomach and pushed herself up. Not only was a climax imminent, but he was also doing her preferred position. The way her stomach flipped didn’t even feel like it relayed how eager and happy she was.

The moment she was in position Hoseok’s hand was on her hip and she felt his dick rub against her folds. It would have annoyed her minutes before, but at that moment all she could think about was it being inside of her.

“Condom?” he asked.

Her response was immediate.

“No. Goodness no. I just need you in me.”

Laughter escaped Hoseok at that and then he didn’t hesitate to push inside. Aware his thickness he didn’t slide in all at once and entered her a few inches at a time. Not that YN would’ve minded him doing that.

Once he made that final inch he paused.

“You good, baby?” he asked.

Despite barely being adjusted to the stretch she nodded frantically.

“For the love of all that is, yes. Please move. I need you to move,” she cried out.

And that was all he needed to hear.

Hands gripping her waist, Hoseok pulled out and then pushed back in. His pace was moderate and slowly sped up. Just like with his fingers he slammed into her as hard as he could with the kind of leverage he had and YN was thankful for it.

If she had been vocal before it was ten times that with his dick inside of her. Her own moans were cut off by each other when he hit the right spot, especially when he continuously found it. She could feel herself build up again and she would be damned if she lost out one more time.

“Faster. More, please.”

The words were soft, but with the change up in stroke she was sure he heard her. And from the way he also released a series of moans it was clear the shift was needed for both. That both of them were on the brink.

One stroke in particular sent a wave of pleasure through her and she could feel that she was close.

“Fuck. Close. So, fucking close,” she screamed.

In an instant Hoseok’s arm was around her waist and he was pulling her up to press against his chest. YN was shocked, but she went with it since it hadn’t dulled her own pleasure and she felt so fucking full of him.

“Play with your clit for me, love,” Hoseok whispered in her ear.

Her hand shot down and she used two fingers to press against it. They moved at the same pace that he fucked her in and with how sensitive it still was her hips bucked each time she applied pressure. But goodness did it do the trick.

There was a momentary freeze up and she felt herself unravel a half a second before she did.

“I’m cum…”

The force of it rendered her speechless. Even the moans she’d been letting out ceased, her mouth agape as she came. And it didn’t end quickly nor was it her usual minimal mess climax. She could feel herself squirt around his dick, though it didn’t fully process; too busy experiencing the euphoric moment.

When she finished her body fell forward and Hoseok released his grip, allowing her to fall onto her hands as he continued to fuck into her. His pace picked up, but his strokes were less uniform and a bit all over the place. Soon enough he was cumming inside of her.

“Fuck!” he yelled.

What happened after that was a mystery to YN because she spaced out hard as she came down from her high and regained control of her breathing. When she finally did tune back into reality she was on her back and Hoseok – who was also breathing heavy – was smiling down at her.

“Making you wait wasn’t so bad now was it?” he joked.

Naturally, YN’s hand reached out to swat at him, but she was too tired and missed the mark completely. Hoseok laughed at her and then leaned down for a quick kiss before getting off the bed.

“I’ll be right back,” he said and then went to the ensuite.

Still not fully recovered, YN took a moment to get her breathing back to normal completely. It took a minute, but she did it. Though the way her pussy pulsated proved to be a little uncomfortable and altered her focus a few times.

By the time she was able to sit up Hoseok returned. He grabbed her hand and helped her off the bed, seeing her legs buckle he wrapped his arm around her waist and led her to the bathroom. Once inside he helped her over to the toilet so she could pee, and then into the bath he’d drawn.

The hot water was too much at first, but after a few seconds and slowly immersing herself she adjusted to it. And it felt so good against her skin.

After ensuring she was comfortable Hoseok went to leave, but YN reached out and grabbed his hand. A pout on her lips.

“Where are you going? Are you not going to join me?” she asked.

Hoseok leaned down and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

“I'll be back in a minute. I just need to take care of the sheets so we can lay down after,” he said.

That had her blushing and dropping his hand immediately.

Laughter followed Hoseok as he made his exit to do what he needed, but YN didn’t take it to her. Instead she focused on relaxing in the tub. Her eyes fluttered shut and her body sank lower. She’d gotten so calm and comfortable that she didn’t notice him come back until he moved her body forward so he could slip behind her.

Despite the change it didn’t affect her comfort, it enhanced it more than anything. Her eyes didn’t even open.

At first at least.

Seconds in Hoseok began trailing kisses along her collar. The sudden touch surprised her, despite already being wrapped up in him. But it only lasted for a moment before they fluttered shut again, a content sigh leaving her.

They sat there in silence for a while, but Hoseok had something to say.

“So, is the first date the right time to ask you to be my girlfriend?”

YN scoffed. “We both know this is like date twenty.”

“Oh, so you acknowledge that our hang outs were dates. How convenient.”

“Oh, hush,” she said as she pinched his thigh.

Of course, he whined about that, but stopped quickly.

“So does that mean it isn’t and you will be my girlfriend?”

“Yes.”

“Oh.”

“What do you mean oh,” she said, turning to see his face.

“I thought you’d make me beg.”

“Okay, never mind. I take it back, I won’t be your girlfriend.”

“No, no… No take backs.”

And for the rest of the bath time they bickered, even as they finally made the attempt to clean themselves and not just sit. It was safe to say they were nearly prunes when they finally got out.

Psst... if you like this pairing I’ll be following their story years after this moment for my Bangtan Boardwalk collab with @BangtanHQ in late August. It’ll be called ‘With All My Heart.’

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lailyn · 3 years

Text

Supermarket Sweep

“Now remember, guys. We are here to get a few items, and these items only,” Stephen warned.

“Come on, Stephen. Live a little.” Tony slung an arm around his husband’s shoulders. “It’s been a while since we’ve gone grocery shopping together. You never want to take any of us with you when you go.”

“Yes, because when I go to the shops to get bread, bread is what I get. Not a gazillion boxes of mince pies and Christmas pudding.”

“They were on discount!” Tony argued.

Stephen rolled his eyes. “It’s already Easter, of course they were!”

“They were covered in edible gold dust,” Tony said with a defensive shrug. “Loki said the puddings looked really pretty.”

“Yes, they were,” Loki said dreamily.

“Fine, but no more! It’s not the healthiest thing, eating Christmas pudding for breakfast every day, and I had to do it for weeks,” Stephen ranted. “Can we please get something you’re actually going to eat this time? Here, if we stick to the grocery list - ”

“Yes, yes,” Loki sighed, grabbing the list out of Stephen’s hand.

“Thank - ” and Loki crushed the list in his fist and dropped the ball of paper onto the ground, “ - you,” Stephen finished glumly.

“Tsk-tsk, Loki,” Tony chastised. He patted Stephen on the back and bent to pick the crumpled list from off the ground.

“Thank you...“ Stephen’s voice trailed off at the sight of Tony chucking the list into the trash can. “Tony.”

“Tsk-tsk, Stephen. Why do you always concern yourself with such inconsequential matters?” Tony asked, mimicking Loki’s crisp accent. “You’re going to give yourself wrinkles.”

He ruffled Stephen’s hair affectionately, before making his way toward the store entrance where Loki was already pulling out not one, not two, but three shopping trolleys. “Hey, Lokes, wait up!”

“Wrinkles,” Stephen muttered, resisting the urge to finger his face for fear of finding new ones. He was sure a few had just cropped up and they had not been here five minutes.

__________________________

Loki stood at the fruits and vegetable section, half-listening to Stephen and Tony argue over the merits and demerits of getting imported fruits over local, seasonal ones for Happy Hogan’s fruit basket, who was currently in hospital recovering from something called a pacemaker operation.

Loki did not understand why they were making their own fruit basket as a get-well gift instead of doing the conventional thing by ordering it online.

Stephen had said something about how a personal human touch would make anything more special and...Loki could not very well argue with that, having acquired not one, but two personal humans of his own.

Oh look. A little human.

"Hello," he said mildly as a woman pushed a trolley past him.

She only gave him a suspicious look before clearing her throat.

Loki took a few steps to the side to allow her access to the ready-to-eat chilled soups and packaged salads.

Soon, he found himself locked in a staring match with the toddler sitting in the trolley.

Loki wondered what it would be like if they had little humans of their own. Their place was certainly big enough for a dozen of them.

He reached for the 'Free Fruit for Kids' display basket, picked a banana from the pile of loose fruits and held it out to the boy.

"Eat it," Loki commanded.

Tony lunged and grabbed the banana out of Loki's hand, before dragging his lover down the aisle as far away as possible from the boy and his mother, who by now, was looking seconds away from calling the police.

"Loki, you can't feed other people's kids without their permission!" Tony hissed, while Stephen apologised profusely to the woman in the background.

"I see," Loki murmured, unperturbed. "If I wanted to feed little humans, I have to make sure they are my own."

"Huh?" Tony asked in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

Loki only hummed appreciatively at the revelation and walked away. This required some thinking and quite possibly a serious discussion with his humans.

________________________

“Sumac? What do you even use that for?”

Loki shrugged. “It’s the only one we don’t have. It is not my fault that the ancient Romans settled for so many letters in their alphabet system.”

Loki was obsessed with the supermarket’s own-brand must-have A-Z selection of spices. He hardly cooked but whenever he deigned to help out in the kitchen, Tony and Stephen had better use one if not most of the spices.

“What do you mean? There’s plenty of spices starting with S.”

“Name one.”

“Sage.”

“You said sage makes your eyes water.”

“Salt. Salt begins with ‘S’.”

“Salt isn’t a spice.”

“Is too.”

“A spice by definition is a seed, fruit, root, bark or other plant substance. Salt isn’t any of those, is it?”

“You just want to collect all the bottles, don’t you?”

“They’re pretty,” Loki said simply. He nuzzled his pout against Tony’s stubbled jaw. “I like pretty little things.”

“Yeah?” Tony asked huskily. “What else do you like?”

Loki’s smile widened.

_______________________

“You do know there is a reason why supermarkets are laid out the way they are?” Stephen asked dryly upon finally locating his husbands in the cereal aisle after a fruitless search of the first few aisles, which they had obviously bypassed. “This is why it takes ages shopping with you guys.”

His two husbands appeared to be engaged in a hushed but heated discussion about something.

Stephen frowned. “What’s going on?”

“Nothing,” Tony and Loki said, almost in unison.

“Loki, please step away from the trolley,” Stephen requested politely.

Loki tried to stand his ground in front of the trolley, but groaned in frustration when Stephen simply put his hands on Loki’s hips.

Loki could never win against his husband’s tactile style of persuasion. Very, very reluctantly he stepped away from the trolley.

Stephen dug through the boxes of all sorts of sugar-free, multi-grain based breakfast cereals, all offerings to appease Doctor Stephen Strange.

Just as he expected, right at the very bottom of the trolley, were a few boxes each of Frosties, Fruit Loops and Honey Nut Cheerios.

“Can you leave me just one?” Loki pleaded. “Please?”

Stephen had to smile to himself. Innocent subterfuge aside, Loki could have used magic to conceal his treasure trove of teeth-rotting cereal but he did not.

He replaced the healthy cereals back on the shelf, leaving Loki’s selection untouched in the trolley.

Tony and Loki stared at him in bewilderment.

“Live a little, right?” Stephen sighed. “Just as long as you eat them, I’m happy.”

Stephen had never seen Tony beam more proudly or Loki’s eyes shine as bright, and he wondered if he had not been bewitched, just a little bit.

_______________________

“That was such a good trip, wasn’t it?” Tony gushed as he stepped out of the portal.

“Yep.” Stephen had to agree. “There was no magic, no stealing, no stabbing. I think we did alright, considering.”

“We did awesome,” Tony corrected. He had to pause in the midst of gushing to enjoy the sudden kiss Stephen was planting on his mouth. “See? I was right. We should do more of these things together, just the three of us.”

“Oh.”

Tony and Stephen turned.

“What is it, Games?” “Did you forget to get something?” They spoke at the same time, noticing the frown on Loki’s face.

Then Stephen noticed a brown paper bag in Loki’s hand that had not been there when they left the store. “What have you got there, babe?”

From the bag, Loki slowly retrieved a chocolate Easter bunny half the size of a football. Then he took out two more, arranging the three of them neatly on the kitchen counter.

“I don’t eat chocolate, but thanks anyway,” Stephen said, relieved that Loki’s secret purchase had simply been chocolate. Their not-strictly-human husband had brought back some strange items in the past.

Loki rummaged through the paper bag again.

“There’s more?” Tony raised an eyebrow. “Sorry to disappoint you, Lokes, but the bunnies are 100% chocolate, they only wrap them in gold paper - ”

A tiny Easter bunny joined the family of three on the counter.

A silence so absolute fell over the house that Loki could practically hear his human husbands’ fantastic brains turn and their heartbeats pick up pace.

“What do you think?” Loki asked, hoping his shaking voice would not give his fears away .

“What do we - ” Stephen swallowed hard. “Are you saying that you’re - ?”

Tony was lost for words. He hurried to Loki’s side.

“No, no.” Loki shook his head vehemently. “No…” Before he could hesitate for too long, “But I could be.”

The tightening of Tony’s arm around his waist gave Loki the final push he needed. “I suppose what I am trying to ask is...could we be?”

Tony and Stephen’s exchange of stunned looks lasted only a second before Stephen dropped the grocery bag he was holding onto the floor. He marched across the kitchen and closed the distance between them.

Before Loki knew it, Stephen had wrapped his arms around them both, engulfing his husbands in a rough hug.

“I’m in.” Stephen kissed Loki and Tony’s temples one after the other, over and over. “I’m so fucking in.”

“Tony?” Loki called his name uncertainly.

“Gosh, Loki. You promised you wouldn’t make my eyes water,” Tony managed.

Loki bit the inside of his lip. “I would apologise for that, but uh, does that mean you’re in?”

“Of course I’m in, silly!” Tony laughed. “Someone needs to inherit all my billions!’

#ironstrangefrost #ironstrange #frostiron #strangefrost

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mittensmorgul · 4 years

Text

Happy Resurrection Day

A short fic in celebration of Dean and Cas’s 12th anniversary!

Rated: T Words: 3652

Summary: The world didn't end, and Dean and Cas finally get to choose each other. It only took twelve years and a little road trip back to where it all started.

Read it here on AO3

One random morning in mid-September, a few months after the world was left in their hands once and for all, Dean woke up to the nagging feeling he was forgetting something. There wasn’t really much to forget anymore. There was no looming apocalypse, no new catastrophe on the horizon. The biggest dilemma he’d faced in the last few days was whether he had enough milk to make pancakes, or whether he’d have to run out to the store before breakfast.

Sure, he and Cas took the occasional salt and burn. Easy hunts they could usually dust in a day. Sam had taken an extended road trip to see the country and try to figure out what he wanted to do with himself now that he was truly free to explore what life after Chuck could look like, but Dean already knew. He’d known for a good long time that he loved his life, loved the bunker, and loved hunting. And for whatever reason, Cas had just decided to stay, no strings attached. Whether Dean was itching to get out on the road for a long weekend on the slimmest excuse of a hunt that just as often as not turned into a detour to some tourist trap or other, or whether Dean just wanted to sit at home bingeing an old tv series or having a movie marathon, Cas seemed equally content with the slate of activities Dean conjured up for them.

He hadn’t put it into so many words, and he definitely hadn’t said it to Cas, but Dean also loved that Cas had stayed with him.

So it was strange waking up with an unsettled swirling in the pit of his stomach. He held a hand up to his forehead, checked his eyes and throat in the mirror to make sure he wasn’t coming down with something. He didn’t want to get Cas sick, if he was. He’d already survived Cas’s first cold as a human, just barely. They went through so much soup in a week, Dean was starting to wonder if Cas was just milking it for the room service. He had to admit that Cas letting him walk him through the highlights of Dr. Sexy while he was curled up in a blanket nest by his side wasn’t the worst thing he’d had to endure. But for now, Dean wasn’t sick. He just had a restlessness in his bones and no idea how to cure it.

He pulled on his robe and ambled out to the kitchen. Coffee would help him figure out what was eating at him, surely. Only Cas had beat him to it, which was unusual enough to amp up that uneasy feeling. Dean usually beat Cas to the kitchen most mornings, so walking in to a full pot of coffee and no other sign of Cas had him wondering if something was wrong. He poured himself a cup and set off in search of Cas, and whatever he was up to so early in the morning.

He found Cas sitting at the table in the library scrolling around on the internet. Dean just stood in the doorway and watched him for a moment, studying his posture as if it might give him some clue what sort of mood Cas was in. Human or not, Cas still had the intense focus he’d always had as an angel, and aside from pausing to take a sip of his coffee or navigate to the next page, he barely moved from his position hunched over the keyboard. Rather than startle him, Dean waited until Cas put his mug down before clearing his throat to announce his presence.

“Mornin’ sunshine. You’re up early.”

“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, giving him a guilty glance before going back to his work. “Yes, I had been hoping to surprise you later, but I apparently didn’t wake up early enough for that. I hope you slept okay.”

Dean shrugged as he walked around the table and sat down across from Cas. He took a sip of his coffee before replying.

“Mostly. Woke up feeling restless, and I couldn’t figure out why.”

Cas nodded at him as if he understood exactly what Dean meant. “I did, as well. And then I checked the calendar. I assume you know what today is?”

Dean’s brow furrowed as he performed a few calculations. Days all sort of blended together after a while, but they’d made a trip up to Henderson for supplies on Wednesday, and that was only a couple days before.

“Friday?” Dean eventually replied, hoping he was right.

Cas laughed, but shook his head. “It is Friday, but it’s also September 18th.”

Dean blinked at him for a moment as he mentally rocketed back to a run down old gas station where the windows shattered the first time Cas had ever tried to introduce himself. He’d just clawed his way out of his own grave, and the local newspaper had helpfully supplied him the date, and the knowledge that he’d been in hell all of four months. No wonder he’d woken up feeling weird. He might’ve forgotten the date, but somewhere deep down, some part of him would always know it.

Dean came back to himself to find Cas waiting patiently for him, like he always did. He took another sip of his coffee and set the mug down, recalling what Cas had said before sending him off down disturbing memory lane. Better to focus on the present than linger in that particular bit of the past.

“So you were planning a surprise?”

Cas shrugged. “I thought maybe we should do something to celebrate. People celebrate these sorts of milestones, yes?”

Dean wobbled his head side to side and made a face. “Pretty sure Hallmark dosn’t make a card for this one.”

Cas frowned, reaching up to shut the laptop as if he’d made some terrible faux pas, but Dean quickly dropped his hand atop Cas’s to stop him.

“Doesn’t mean we can’t celebrate it anyway,” he said more quietly, smiling at Cas. “It was a pretty noteworthy occasion, you pulling me outta hell. What did you have in mind?”

Cas’s frown deepened. “That’s where I’ve been stuck all morning. It felt inappropriate to suggest going to visit your gravesite, and taking you out to dinner seems… trite, in light of the occasion.”

“You know me, Cas. I’m always up for food,” Dean replied, trying to lighten the mood. “Plus it wasn’t just about me being un-dead, you know. It’s the whole reason we met in the first place. And look how that turned out.”

Cas had finally begun to smile again, and turned his attention back to the computer. “We didn’t actually meet face to face until late the next night when you summoned me. There was a bit of a delay due to unforeseen circumstances.”

Dean thought about that for a minute, nodding as he remembered the events of his first few days back on earth. “Well, if you wanna do it right, we could always take a road trip back to that old barn, see if it’s still standing.”

“Have you been back there since then?” Cas asked, curious now.

Dean shook his head. “Driven by it a few times over the years, but never went back inside. The whole farm’s completely overgrown. I figured someone would’ve gotten freaked out by all the weird symbols and burned the place down by now. It was still standing as of a couple years ago.” That got Dean curious. “Have you been back?”

“It’s been a while,” Cas said quietly. “I used to fly there sometimes, when I still could. It was a quiet place to think.”

Dean nodded slowly. “Then that’s what we should do. We’re taking a road trip. I know at least three great diners between here and there I haven’t taken you to yet. We can make a whole weekend out of it.”

“That sounds wonderful,” Cas replied, finally shutting the computer.

“Good. Breakfast first, then we’ll head out. Have ourselves a little resurrection day road trip.”

Dean grabbed his mug and stood up. He’d need to get dressed and pack a bag. They could have a quick breakfast if they were gonna be stopping at Dana’s Diner for lunch. It was a bit of a detour, but the burgers were worth it. He flashed a grin at Cas.

“I’m gonna pack a bag and grab some cereal before we hit the road. Meet you in the kitchen in 20?”

Cas nodded and shut the laptop. As Dean made his way out to the hall, he heard Cas mutter quietly, “Happy Resurrection Day,” as if he was testing out the sentiment. He bit his lip to keep from laughing out loud.

The drive to Illinois took most of the day. It could’ve been a lot quicker, but in addition to Dana’s, they hit a steakhouse on the outskirts of Chicago for dinner before swinging back south toward their destination. Dean bypassed the Astoria Motel where a mirrored ceiling shattered by Cas’s angelic voice had once nearly killed him. He pointed it out as part of their trip down memory lane, but pulled up at a different motel clear across town with the excuse that it would be a shorter drive back to the barn in the morning. Their room was a lot less shabby, and a lot less pay-by-the-hour feeling than the Astoria, so Dean felt it was a win all around.

As they settled in for the night like they had every night they’d been on the road together, Dean let himself really feel the usual longing the three foot chasm between their beds brought out in him. Most nights he’d just roll over and pretend to fall asleep while mashing that feeling down as hard as he could. Tonight, though, he lay in bed staring across that gap, wishing he could make some excuse to crawl into the other bed. Of all nights, and in this particular place, he really just wanted someone to hug until dawn.

The specific someone being Cas.

In the dark, in the quiet listening to Cas’s breathing even out as he drifted off, for one moment Dean allowed himself to admit that he didn’t just love that Cas had stayed with him. He loved Cas. Full stop. Dean lay there until he couldn’t keep his eyes open any longer, holding on to that feeling and knowing he’d have to crush it back down in the morning.

He dreamt of what could’ve happened in that barn, if he hadn’t stabbed Cas that first time they’d met. With twelve years of history between them now, and Dean’s quiet revelation that he was in love with Cas, his dream-self went through a series of alternate endings to that meeting ranging from love confessions to things that he would definitely not be enumerating to Cas over breakfast the next morning. It made for an excellent night’s slumber.

Morning came without the restlessness the previous day had. Dean opened his eyes to the dawn light seeping between the curtains to shine a golden spotlight on Cas’s face, which was smiling back at him.

“Hello, Dean. I take it you slept better last night?”

Dean yawned, but didn’t quite feel like getting up yet. He wanted to enjoy this surreal moment for just a bit longer. Instead he stretched out under the blankets and propped himself up on his pillow to get a better look at Cas.

“Yeah, you?”

Cas propped himself up on his elbow, no longer in the little beam of light, and blinked at him. “I’m reserving judgment until after we have coffee, but yes. It seems to have been satisfactory.” Cas frowned for a second, and Dean was about to ask what was wrong, when Cas asked, puzzled, “If yesterday was Resurrection Day, what does that make today?”

Dean must’ve still been a bit loopy from his late night thoughts, the restful sleep, and what he could recall of the dream he’d been having. He never would’ve blurted it out around a yawn otherwise, but that’s exactly what he did.

“It’s countdown to Cas day.”

He froze for a second after the words had escaped into the wild, and then slowly turned to take in the fond look on Cas’s face.

“I’m already here, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, you weren’t twelve years ago. I didn’t even know your name yet.”

“You do now,” Cas replied. “How should we celebrate it? Since I sincerely hope you weren’t dead set on a complete reenactment. I don’t have the power to rattle the roof or blow open the doors anymore.”

Dean grinned at that and sat up. “Yeah, I don’t really wanna shoot you, either.”

“I appreciate that,” Cas replied, sitting up on the edge of his own bed opposite Dean. He looked right into Dean’s eyes, as if attempting to convey some deeper meaning to his words, and spoke quietly. “I’m glad you finally believe in me.”

They sat there for a long moment before Dean finally nodded. “‘Course I believe in you, Cas.”

They took turns in the shower and packed up their bags. After a quick breakfast on the way to the farm, they drove down the overgrown dirt road that led to the barn. Dean had to leave the car a good way back down the road, and they hiked through the knee-high scrub to the broken old barn door. Dean picked up a shattered timber and tossed it out of the way as he pushed his way inside.

“Man, this place is a lot less intimidating looking in broad daylight,” he said, as the two of them stood in the doorway and took in the faded symbols Bobby had painted on every surface of the interior. Broken glass still littered the floor, now covered with a heavy layer of dust.

“It looks different now, somehow,” Cas added. “Smaller. Which is strange considering I was so much larger the first time I was here.”

Dean turned to him and smiled. “Yeah, but now you’re seeing it human. It’s gotta be weird.”

Cas shrugged, and walked around the perimeter of the barn, examining the sigils out of old habit. “This has always been a quiet place for me,” he said, touching a warding sigil with his fingertips before continuing on. “Nothing unholy could find me here. I could be alone with my thoughts.”

Dean noticed a few of the sigils Cas stopped by, and didn’t recognize them. A collection of carefully drawn wards drawn much smaller and in a different shade of paint that stood out from all the rest he’d watched Bobby create twelve years ago.

“Did you add those?” he asked.

Cas nodded. “Angel proofing. Or at least, concealing.”

Dean thought back to all the times Cas had been running or hiding from Heaven and the rest of the angels. When he’d been human and had nowhere to go, and instead of coming here he’d run in the opposite direction, because Dean had kicked him out. A bolt of guilt shot through him and nailed his feet to the floor. This was a place Dean hadn’t come back to because it reminded him that he’d been to Hell, reminded him that Heaven had wanted him for their own for reasons that frankly horrified him now. But for Cas, this was the place Dean had first met him, a place that for him would forever be about the moment he was truly introduced to humanity. It had been kind of a shit introduction, if Dean was honest with himself. But twelve years later, after all the shit had played itself out, Cas had finally made his own choice about his life, and he’d come back to where it all began.

“Happy resurrection day,” Dean said as he stared at Cas from across the room.

Cas turned to him, the look of surprise on his face quickly turning to a smile. “It is a bit like a resurrection, isn’t it? We’ve come all the way back around to where it started, and we’re free of it all now.”

Dean just nodded dumbly, letting the enormity of it sink in as Cas walked over to stand in front of him.

“I don’t have wings or the power of Heaven at my back, but I do recall something I said to you that night. Good things do happen, Dean. And they have.”

“And here we are again,” Dean said, clearing his throat. Both of their lives had changed that night, and they’d spent so much of their time fighting against everything in the universe since then. The one constant had always been each other, even when they’d totally fucked it all up and broken the natural order and sacrificed themselves to fix it all again, they’d done it to save each other. At the end of the road, and the beginning of their journey, Dean couldn’t keep his feelings bottled up any longer. “I love you, you know.”

Cas sucked in a shocked breath of air and blinked at him for a moment, before a grin broke across his face, lighting up the gloomy, dusty haze in the barn. “I love you too, Dean. I’m so glad I’m here with you.”

Dean shook his head, finally prying his feet free to shuffle closer to Cas. He reached out a hand to rest it on Cas’s shoulder, right at the base of his neck. “No, I mean, I love you. I think I always have, and I know I always will, but I only really just figured it out. I’m in love with you and you’ve put me back together in ways you can’t even imagine. You might’ve resurrected me and healed me more times than I can count, but you helped make me a whole person, Cas. And I love you.”

Dean felt the prickling of tears behind his eyes and struggled to hold them back. Like he always did, Cas stared into him, right through him, and lifted a hand to Dean’s cheek.

“I’d hoped it was obvious when I chose humanity, when I chose to stay with you, that I felt the same way for you, Dean. I didn’t have any idea how much knowing you would change me, how much you would teach me about humanity and what makes life worth living when I first walked through those doors. One thing I did know, though, was that I already loved you. I had no idea what that even meant yet, but I would learn.”

A slightly manic laugh escaped Dean’s lips at the euphoria of hearing Cas’s words, seeing the heartbreaking honesty in his face, and wondering how long it was polite to wait before kissing him. Cas gave him a relieved smile, as if he’d been holding it all in far too long, and Dean let out a sigh as he pulled Cas to him.

“Love at first stab, huh?” Dean asked, smiling right into Cas’s face.

“Don’t belittle it, Dean. I loved you even before then. The moment I laid a hand on you in Hell. Healing your soul and reuniting it with your body, resting you gently in your grave and waiting for you to emerge again.”

“You do know how fucked up that was, right? You couldn’t have just dug me out?”

Cas’s brow furrowed. “It was Heaven’s orders. I never thought to question them. But yes, it has bothered me many times over the years.”

“Yeah, well, it’s bothered me more than once that I tried to thank you for saving me from Hell by stabbing you in the heart.”

“It worked, though,” Cas replied, one eyebrow raised. “I’m still here with you.”

“Better than cupid’s arrow,” Dean muttered, and then grimaced at his own terrible reference. It amused Cas, though. “Okay, enough awful jokes. Are you gonna kiss me already?”

Cas made a considering face, as if he hadn’t already made up his mind. “Happy resurrection day to both of us, then. I suppose we know exactly how to celebrate it now.”

Dean took that as the invitation it was, and leaned in for a kiss. Their lips met tentatively at first, and then more confidently as they clung to one another in the gloom. The exploding lights were all internal this time, but no less spectacular. Dean shuffled his feet and heard the crunching of broken glass, and reluctantly pulled back from Cas.

“We should probably find someplace less dangerous if we’re gonna keep going…”

Cas nodded his regretful agreement. With one last look around the old barn, they pulled the doors shut.

“We can come back next year, if you want,” Dean said, taking Cas’s hand and leading him back to the car. “Make it an annual thing.”

“That sounds like a plan,” Cas replied. “The annual resurrection road trip.”

“Next year we bring a broom,” Dean added, leading Cas through the weeds. “Maybe a picnic.”

Cas laughed, letting his hand go when they reached the car.

“So what do you wanna do next?” Dean asked as he climbed back behind the wheel. “We still technically got the rest of the day to celebrate.”

“You mentioned several diners you wanted to introduce me to, and it’s nearly time for lunch,” Cas replied.

Dean thought over their options, then leaned across the front seat to plant a kiss on the corner of Cas’s mouth, just because he could. The look of surprised delight on Cas’s face was more than worth it. “How much of a detour are you up for?”

Cas gave him a look of mock pity. “Dean, I’ll go anywhere with you. No detour is too long if I have you to share the journey with.”

Dean gave him a proper kiss, with a promise of more for later. “Then let’s get this show on the road.”

#things i have written #spn fanfic #destiel #the deancasversary #CAN YOU BELIEVE THESE NITWITS HAVE KNOWN EACH OTHER TWELVE YEARS?!

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n-blanca-archived · 3 years

Text

↳ BATTLEFIELD

↳ Ochako Uraraka x gn!reader

A/N: !! ochako!! i’ve had quite a roller coaster ride with my opinions about her but it’s hard to NOT love her lol! the first time i published this it didn’t do very well despite the fact that it’s honestly my favorite work to date! so i hope you enjoy reading it, too! remember to stretch and drink water!

warnings: non-graphic mentions of blood, vomiting

prompt: Holding their hands when they are shaking.(from this prompt list!)

genre: angst+fluff at the end!

Tenya stood at your side, both of you too worried to say much of anything. His jaw was clenched, hands gripping at the radio in his grasp.

He looked tired and angry, covered in the dust that floated leisurely in the air.

You don't look any better. You continuously ran your hands down your face, pulling at your cheeks or rubbing at your eyes roughly as you watched the battle apprehensively. You could feel the dirt sticking to your skin, and your actions surely weren't helping, but you couldn't really find it in you to mind it.

A city street covered in broken support beams and debris continuously got worse in front of you, buildings crumbling to the ground like sand.

Deku, Ground Zero, Chargebolt, Creati, and Uravity were the only ones cleared to enter the fight zone. Usually, you wouldn't be so worried about your girlfriend. You were both pro heroes; danger came with the job. You trusted in Ochako's ability to keep herself safe.

But Usually, Ochako wasn't shaking.

You've been watching your girlfriend fight for years now, and you can tell when she's off her game. Right then, Ochako isn't just off her game; she's not even playing. Her evident exhaustion was most likely due to the lack of sleep the last four days had brought. Tracking down this particular group of villains had been kicking everyone's ass if you were honest.

Low-level villains would usually be no problem, but there was undoubtedly strength in numbers with them forming their own organizations. The Leauge of Villains had not been operating for years, but villains seemed to realize that banding together worked.

Ochako and Creati were supposed to be in hare of escorting any remaining civilians out of the area and keeping the structures of buildings stable. Your quirk wasn't of any help. Since you were only there as a medic, you were stuck behind the separated zone, concrete barriers surrounding you. Iida was required to wait until someone was out of commission before he could go in; something about 'preserving their resources.'

You bit your lip, watching Ochako stumble away from the villain slashing at her. Her opponent was tall and lanky, his fingers turning into sharp blades. Ochako wouldn't usually have so much trouble, but with her quirk still active on the building near her, she struggled. Momo was still inside, along with any potential civilians. She couldn't let up her quirk even if she wanted to.

The villain lunged again, finger-blades lengthening and knicking her cheek. Your eyes focused almost absurdly on the drop of blood that flew from the small wound.

She was just a few feet in front of you, and as much as you wished you could bypass the barriers and help her, going into a fight zone unauthorized could get your license taken away.

The radio in Iida's grasp crackled.

"Ingenium, you're cleared to fight. First position is with Deku, then circle back to Creati once you get the chance. Over."

Iida was gone before you could blink. You held the radio he had shoved into your hands tightly, knees locked. They'd start shaking if you un-tensed, you were sure of it.

Iida quickly took care of the attacker, easily slipping under the man's swing and knocking him out. He checked over Ochako for a second, and once he received a nod from her, albeit shakey, he was gone. The whine of his engines followed him as he ran off, closer to the main fight blocks away.

People were bustling behind you, no doubt antsy from being side-lined and told to stay on the safe side of the barriers. You watch Ochako's knees give out, the brunette falling roughly onto the gravel. She bent in half at the waist and retched loudly enough for you to hear clearly; bile and a mix of things spilling out of her mouth. The building she had stayed right next to groaned eerily; she had reached her limit.

"Medic 16, cleared for retrieval. Shouto cleared for support; you'll be replacing Uravity."

"Shouto!" You shouted over your shoulder, already vaulting over the barricades. Todoroki came sliding into view, using his ice to speed through the crowd of first responders and confused civilians.

He skated by above you, pulling you up onto his ice path when you stuck out your hand. You held on tightly to him, doing your best to keep your balance steady on the slippery ice.

In seconds, Shouto was dropping the ice path as gently as possible, helping you off of it as it reached the ground. You dropped to your knees next to Ochako. Todoroki already stories high and freezing the building in place as best as possible.

"'Chako-chan, can you breathe with me?" You asked, pushing the girl into a sitting position away from the puddle of sick. She was struggling to breathe, puffs of air escaping her mouth too fast for your liking. Still, Ochako nodded shakily, watching your chest rise and fall as you took deep, exaggerated breaths.

You noticed quickly that it wasn't working. Ochako's breaths were still ragged, her gag reflex acting up often and causing her to shrink forward, shoulders heaving. It's been years since she's been so sick from using her quirk.

Your mouth pulled into a frown, and with one hand, you dug into the supply bag on your hip. You popped a nausea tablet into her mouth, prompting her to chew. She does so sluggishly. She tried to wipe her mouth, but her hand was shaking so intensely that she couldn't bring it that high up. Ochako let her arm fall back into her lap and closed her eyes, taking in one last deep breath.

"You're okay, Ochako. Just relax." You pull her hands into yours, running your thumb gently over her calloused palms and fingertips.

"I didn't mean to stop my quirk." Ochako sighed, hanging her head. You nodded, letting go of one of her hands to pull off her helmet completely.

"I thought, I thought I killed Momo for a second." She hissed, teeth grit together. Her face was pale and stained, but there was an intensity in her eyes that wasn't there moments before. She really had thought she had lost a friend, evidently. You watch a sharp tremor run through her frame.

The movement prompts you to pull her hands until they were splayed against your chest, allowing her to feel your heartbeat and the rise and fall of your breaths.

"She's okay. Her vitals are still being monitored. Todoroki's securing the building, you did great, Ochako." You soothed, guiding the heroine's breathing again.

"Medic 16, Creati confirmed five civilians with her. Escort her and the civs out of the battle area. Uravity needs to be interned in medic tent 4."

The radio's static voice startled the two of you. Still, you both recover quickly, standing hurriedly as you eyed the building's entrance wearily.

Just as the distant rumble of your other coworkers fighting off other villains started nearing, Momo burst out of the building, face set in a grimace and chest heaving. She was supporting a limping woman wh was crying heavily. Another woman, looking just as haggard, stumbled along beside them, gripping two small children's hands in her own.

What made you rush over to them was the child in Momo's hold, limp and stained in familiar shades of crimson.

A soft curse tumbled out of your mouth, looking back at Ochako one last time. You were hesitant to leave her, unsure she would be able to make it back by herself. Before you could speak, the brunette smiled gently at you and nodded, already turning to run back to the barricades.

You lunged forward, hands already reaching out to take the child from Momo's hold.

The medic tent was relatively quiet. Only a few other medics were active. They were busy in other medical tents, treating more solemn injuries or handling groups of civilians for shock.

You went over the child's vitals again, sighing lightly. He had suffered a head wound, though luckily it wasn't too deep or long. Head wounds bleed quite a bit, and he seemed to only have that one wound.

You figured the kid had a minor concussion, but the first concern was blood loss. Hopefully, you'd be able to check on him once he was transferred to an actual hospital. All you were really able to do was close the wound and repair the skin.

His mother was lying on the cot next to him, leg wrapped in a temporary cast. The other woman and two children were herded out of the tent into a set waiting area, most likely being questioned about their relation and who could pick them up.

Ochako sat on the cot farthest from the tent's entrance, fiddling with her helmet.

"How are the others?" She asked when you neared, looking up at you. You smiled and sat at the end of the cot, tucking in your legs so they didn't dangle off the edge.

"Haven't gotten an evac order or a call for a replacement, so they're managing. They've pushed in the fight zone, though. We must be winning." You said, pulling her hands into your lap and playing with them lightly.

"And Momo?" She asked, biting her busted lip absently.

"She's okay. We got her healed up; she's probably already up helping figure out things with civilians." You watched the tensions seep out of her shoulders, a small wobbly smile plastered on the brunette's face.

"That's good....thanks for dealing with me back there; I'm kind of embarrassed that I collapsed," Ochako giggled, cheeks flushing. You grinned lightly, pulling Ochako's hands up to your mouth and pressing a kiss to each of her palms.

"It's what I'm here for." You muttered, pulling her into a gentle hug and leaning forward, forcing her to lay down.

"Go to sleep. I'll wake you if anything happens." Ochako nods at your words, a small yawn escaping her before her eyes fluttered closed, face relaxing. You pushed the hair out of her face lightly before making your way off of the cot, standing with a sigh.

Distantly, Deku's familiar yell rang out, followed by a loud boom.

Ochako's job may be over, but yours is far from it.

#uraraka ochako #mha #bnha #bnha x you #ochako x reader #ochako x y/n #uravity #ochako #bnha angst #bnha fluff #blanca.txt

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scarlet-it-was · 3 years

Text

Aftershocks

Tags up top: #world of warcraft #sylvanduin #sylvanas x anduin #older woman younger man

Set immediately post-Kingsmourne cinematic. Hastily written because it has been gnawing on my brain like Tred’ova. No betas, we die like warriors. The explicit version of this can be found here on AO3, just skip to chapter 2.

She watches his face; she can see the slightest twitch at the corner of his eye as he fights exhaustively to surface, but it’s of no use. The Jailer extracts the key from the Kingsmourne and Sylvanas is tasked with “putting away” the vessel until it is ready to be used again. Her head nods once, curtly, and her face remains unchanged as she takes over Anduin’s mind with her own banshee magic. Electric blue fades and shifts to a neon violet before she walks him from the balcony. He’s steered along several of the twisting corridors, bypassing his own prison and is taken to another.

The lair of the Dark Lady, inasmuch as she has laid claim to in this unearthly realm, is modestly sized. Unsurprisingly, many of her personal effects are twisted and gruesome. Skulls from every race known to Azeroth and the outer realms hang on the wall in a morbid gallery. Of the items that aren’t nightmare inducing, none of them look particularly sentimental or personal, likely left on Azeroth for safe keeping. The aesthetic here is carefully and intentionally curated.

She locks the door and proceeds to remove the sword and then unclamp the heavy armor while he wobbles in place and she whispers the necessary magic to keep him under her spell. Beneath the heavily spiked pauldrons and chest plate, Anduin is still a large man, larger than she would have expected from the man she’d goaded as the ‘boy king’ for the last several years, but his presence feels far smaller. Deft hands remove the final pieces of his armor as she lets the echo of her voice trail off, allowing him to come back to himself when he is clad only in tight black pants designed to keep the leather from chafing, and a loose black shirt that served the same purpose.

As the ocean blue of his eyes returns, he gasps in a panic, and the first thing he sees is her. Anger, white hot, burning righteous fury. If he’d had enough strength to call down the light, he would have smote her where she stood. Instead, he lunges at her, and it becomes apparent why she’s taken the time to relieve him of his weapons and armaments. It’s the exact reaction she expects, and while she is confident he’ll never catch up to her to land a punch, she’s not interested in taking chances after pride had won her a new scar at the hands of Saurfang. Sylvanas dodges his strikes, and sidesteps his advances for a few tense moments before his anger turns to something he can catch.

Her face remains passive as he smashes each of the skulls that hung on the wall, demanding answers after each is splintered in a thousand shards, practically reciting everything she’d done in his memory. Unfortunately, she doesn’t have answers to give him that will satisfy the depth of the ache he feels. Sylvanas begins the process of removing her own armor while he rants and destroys her room. “You know, I will just get more to replace them, and if they aren’t available readily, I can create them myself,” she warns, but doesn’t expect it to stop the destruction.

“STOP. UNDRESSING,” he booms at her, in equal parts anger and exasperation. He’s never seen her so...undergeared. It feels too private, and entirely too intimate for the emotions swirling through him. He wins only a narrowing of her eyes as she unfastens the heavy leather strap that holds the guards for her hips and thighs. He’s nearly hysterical; it’s hard the first time, and he doesn’t have the boon of being dead to numb his emotions. No, the Jailer needs him as a living mortal within the Shadowlands.

“Why?” he demands, as if he’s going to get a better answer than he has up until now.

Anduin rounds on her again and his face is flushed and streaked with tears. Careful, they’ll burn themselves onto your face, she can feel the chiding remark on her tongue, but for once she swallows it. She has no defense against his litany of her crimes. “Answer me, Sylvanas!”

His gaze is at once accusatory and pleading and it cuts her like the mourneblade all over again. Her memory hasn’t faded--she can feel his hurt and betrayal because she owns the same ones. Time hasn’t healed those wounds, it has only grown them into the anger and hatred she wears like armor around herself. It unpleasantly occurs to her that while he has been but a brief annoyance in her own long life, she has been a constant source of misery in his own. From the time he was young, so much has been taken. His peace, his father, his home, and now his free will; and she’s played a part in so many of those moments. Suddenly she’s finding it uncomfortable to maintain eye contact, and she lets her gaze drop.

She’s already got one foot braced and turns around in time to catch the charging Anduin solidly against her front. Sylvanas grunts when her back hits the wall, fangs bared, but she doesn’t strike back. This isn’t a man who wants more violence. She wraps her arms around him instead. “Shhh,” she hisses against his ear, holding him tightly against her while he flails to get free. He pushes at her, tries to pull away, but the attempts are half-hearted at best.

Eventually, he stops fighting and his arms go limp at his sides. Sylvanas feels him surrender, and her hold becomes less severe. She thinks back to the days her Little Moon would fling herself into Sylvanas’s arms and cry over whatever latest injustice had besieged her heart. Her memory marked them as petty endeavors compared to the broken boy she held now, but the muscle memory, at least, was helpful. His weight pressed against her made it easy to balance herself as she slid down the wall, pulling him down as well. He gave no fight, just crumbled to the ground with her, and his arms went around her waist. For a moment, she freezes and looks down at the mess of blonde hair. His head rests against her chest, which does not rise or fall, nor offer the comfort of a steady breath or heartbeat. She settles in once again, this time keeping an arm around his back while the other tugs loose the tie from his hair so she can thread her fingers through it. No words are offered--any she could say felt hollow, and certainly untrue.

Until the Maw, Sylvanas was the coldest place he’d ever known, but here, she feels like a respite--the smallest and most fragile of fires in a night that promised death from the howling wind. There isn’t much hope in it, but he clings to it nonetheless. He doesn’t expect to find himself on the floor of her room, wrapped up in the mysterious and infuriating elf, but the moment she offered him shelter instead of slaughter, he fell apart. Her fingers twine through his hair and it’s a small comfort. His eyes still burn, and so does his throat, but eventually he is able to pull himself together, in no small part due to the solid presence he rested against. He scrubs his eyes with the heel of his hand and she pauses her ministrations to allow him to do such. Her hand hovers for a moment before falling to the side when she realizes he won’t be putting his head back down.

He looks at her in earnest then. He’s never seen her out of her martial attire; she remains only in leather pants and a soft black under shirt. Sylvanas’s hair spills over her shoulders, flat from hiding beneath a hood. He’s always found her hauntingly beautiful, but nothing compared to her stripped of her war vestments and staring at him like...It wasn’t exactly compassion he saw in her eyes so much as understanding. Anduin had gained a new perspective as well--hers.

The fact that she chose to bring him here and comfort him rather than locking him back inside his circular prison speaks volumes, but that was never enough for him, because Sylvanas is never what she seems. “Why have you brought me here?” he asks, since it certainly isn’t to apologize. She hasn’t expressed remorse, or regret.

Sylvanas lets her head drop to the side so that she’s looking at him without her head leaving the support of the wall. “Because I can not give you peace, Young Wrynn, but I can at least make sure you sleep comfortably, and dreamlessly, if you so desire,” she drawls. Afterall, she has no use for her bed, she doesn’t require sleep and when she does sleep, it’s more out of habit or boredom. As she speaks, he feels her brace her feet and she lifts both of them, though this time with his help. She leads him to the bed and eases him down as though he is a broken thing.*

She sees him start to speak again, and she knows the question before it comes out. She stops it by pressing two cold fingers against his lips. “Shh, there is nothing to be done about it,” she tells him matter of factly. “Not yet. Be patient, little lion. The threads of fate are frayed and unravelling. Soon we will weave our own.” Sylvanas doesn’t remove her fingers from his lips, but rests her forehead against his with her eyes closed. “And no one will ever control us again,” she says, trying to convince him as much as she is trying to convince herself. Her fingertips and head lift at the same time and she leans forward to press a kiss on his brow, imbuing him with an irresistible urge to sleep. “Rest now,” she murmurs, settling him in the throng of pillows as he slowly blinks, trying and failing to stay awake. Her hand smooths over his forehead once more, pushing slightly faded gold locks out of his face in a tender gesture he won’t remember by the time he wakes. “It won’t get any easier from here.”

#sylvanduin #sylvanas x anduin #world of warcraft #fanfiction #my fic #aftershocks

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geethedentist · 4 years

Text

The Sassenach Warrior

Catch up with Chapter 10 here! Read this chapter on Ao3!

Chapter 11: My Own Protector

A weight had been lifted, and I felt wonderful. I practically danced back through the doorway of the tavern, but the sight of Jamie stopped me dead in my tracks. I saw Dougal follow his line of sight directly to the gash on my head. Jamie’s nostrils flared ever so briefly.

“The … the horse kicked me.” I shrugged and looked at the ceiling.

“Aye, ye ken how that filly can be sometimes.” Dougal then made a horrible attempt at a casual throat clearing noise and swiftly made for the stairs.

“I thought ye kent not to stand directly behind her.” Jamie mumbled as he rose and headed for the stables. He did not meet my eyes.

It was getting increasingly difficult to lie. The fact that Dougal now knew about it did not make lying to Jamie any better. It actually made it worse since Dougal had aided me in said lie.

In any case, I would only have to do it for one more night and make it out with no obvious lacerations or contusions. Tonight was the last fight, and this time I was not plagued by my former ulterior motive. Perhaps someone in possession of more common sense than I had might have decided not to go.

What was the point? Dougal trusted me now. Gavin would close the ring for a while after tonight, so a huge portion of the town was likely to be there. The point was I wanted them to watch me prove I could win.

The sight of Jamie’s face drawn with desperation as he begged me not to do anything foolish swam around the back of my mind all day. I finally forced it out as I wrapped myself in my cloak, preparing to leave. I bypassed Angus’s and Dougal’s rooms; they knew tonight was the last one.

Rupert and Murtagh were now the only way in which my secret could get back to Jamie. I stopped outside Rupert’s door, from which issued loud, hog-like snoring. Next was Murtagh’s door, from which came more snoring, but less hog-like. Jamie’s door had no candlelight underneath. After straining my ear against it until I was satisfied that I had heard no noise from within, I painstakingly tip toed down the stairs.

The taproom was empty, except for a figure in the armchair by the fire. I couldn’t see their face, for their back was turned and they too wore a dark traveling cloak. The stranger absentmindedly prodded the dying embers with the poker; sparks flew out of the dull-glowing log as it broke in two. If they knew I was there, they didn’t turn around. They still didn’t turn as I walked out the door, closing it very slowly behind me.

__________________________________________________________________

Jamie had dared not breathe until he was positive that Claire was gone. He’d made a frantic grab for the poker and tried to appear to be nonchalantly moving the ashes around. He wished he’d had the sense to pour himself a cup of ale, maybe that would have made it more believable. But no, Claire had left as quickly as she could.

He knew she wasn’t very likely to try and talk to him. She had wanted to make as little noise as possible, although her attempt to descend the stairs sounded quite like a tip-toeing elephant. He waited a minute or two to give her a head start, and then rose to follow. If nobody was going to tell him the truth, then he would find out for himself.

Claire was a terrible liar; she looked at anything and everything except the person she was lying to, and she repeatedly scratched her nose. Dougal was a seasoned liar, but Jamie knew his game. He’d give an indifferent shrug to belittle one’s perfectly valid suspicions.

Stepping into the chilly night, he drew up the hood of his cloak and watched Claire’s back reach the end of the street and turn left. His stomach gave a lurch.

He knew beyond doubt where she was going, but he had hoped to God that he was wrong. He was even nursing some half baked wish that she really was an English spy. But no, that wasn’t true. As tough a demeanor as she liked to build for herself, Jamie witnessed its foundations crumble more than once. In the forest with the two soldiers on the day they met, and on the day she glimpsed the English marching toward Nairn.

She always fought to keep her hands steady, and Jamie knew her well enough by now to know this came with great effort. What really gave her away was how all of the color drained from her already pale face, leaving a strange tinge of gray. How the muscles of her cheeks and neck popped out from clenching her teeth together as hard as she possibly could. It was the same way she had appeared when the stables had caught fire. But that time he liked to think that they had been alone and therefore she let her fear show plainly, tired of the effort it normally took to conceal it. Her own countrymen terrified her.

He felt like a fool because she had been able to lie to him so easily, inept at it as she was. He should have known sooner. He should have known long before she’d slashed her head open. Christ, she had even asked him to help her improve her fighting skills, and he’d happily obliged just grateful to spend time with her.

She’d been withdrawn from him ever since the soldiers had occupied the tavern. They hadn’t spoken much; she had taken to sleeping for a large portion of the day. She was always covering up strange and unexplained bruises. As much as it pained him to see her willingly hurt herself, there was another deeper fear lurking in the back of his mind that he hadn’t yet been able to identify.

Claire suddenly whipped around in the middle of the darkened street, the moon outlined her in silver and the frayed ends of her scarf swayed gently in the breeze. She didn’t have her sword or bow on her, but he saw her hand dart to her belt where he knew there was a dagger. She always kept the scarf and dagger close; they had both come from Jamie. A bit of cloth ripped off the end of his tartan offered to her as a makeshift scarf a few days after the rent party set out. She had been shivering.

Jamie pressed himself against the nearest building until she decided that the coast was clear. His lips pressed into a thin line as he noticed a slight limp. He peered around the next corner as she had just finished having a laugh with the man at the front door and disappeared down the stairs. Two minutes later, he descended as well, and his eyes widened in surprise when he reached the bottom. There was more than twice the number of people here since they had first come. There was already a fight underway, but Claire was nowhere to be seen.

“Do ye reckon that lass is going win tonight?” A conversation at the table to his left had Jamie inching over to listen.

The other man grunted. “Weel she’d better win, or else I’ll kill Dougie for tellin’ me to put my money on her!”

“Excuse me,” Jamie addressed them. “Are ye talking about the Sassenach? D’ye ken where I can find her? I’m a … big fan.” He added hastily when he saw their matching suggestive grins.

“Oh aye?” The first man laughed. “What makes ye think she’ll fancy you? One look from her and ye feel as if she’s already kicked ye in the balls!”

Jamie knew the look well; she gave it to Dougal quite a lot. The other man elbowed his companion. “Ach we canna blame the lad. After all, ye’ve said yerself that ye’ve never seen a pair of breeks look that good!”

Jamie felt his face begin to heat with anger, and he wanted nothing more than to drag their drunk arses into the ring right now and beat them both. He grabbed the shirt of the man nearest to him. “Either tell me where she is, or else I will kick ye in the balls for her.” He snarled.

The man ducked and pointed to a door in the corner. “She’s probably in the back with Gavin!” Jamie threw him back in the chair and headed for the door. He imagined bursting in on her and declaring that he had known what she was up to the whole time. But that thought was followed almost immediately by a sour taste in his mouth. It didn’t seem like the right way for her to find out. He didn’t want to embarrass her; he didn’t want her to feel ashamed.

It was then that he decided that he would not let her see him, and that he had only come to watch over her, to make sure she didn’t get hurt. He would watch the fight and go right back to the tavern.

Inside the door, there was a hallway with multiple smaller rooms on either side. It smelled like sweat and the floor had blood stains of varying shades of red brown splattered across it.

“So, the soldiers will be here again by the end of the month?”

“Yes, that’s what they told the barman. Are you still going to close the ring?”

Jamie’s head snapped up at the sound of Claire’s voice, coming from a room at the end of the hall.

“Aye, for a couple weeks I think.” Gavin answered. “Do ye really have to go though? I’ll give ye a room in the inn to stay while the ring is closed. ”

“I can’t stay here forever just to fill your pockets. Besides, I have things to do.”

“Have I no’ been filling your pockets as well?”

“Well, I’ve been filling Dougal Mackenzie’s. For the Jacobites.”

Just then a very large bald man with a close cropped black beard exited the room on the opposite side. He had more hair on his chest than Claire had on her head, and thick veins lined his forearms.

“Oh Tom! In here if you please.” Jamie saw Gavin’s shadow beckon him over. “Claire, I thought I’d have ye fight Tom here to make yer last fight one we’ll never forget aye?”

Claire snorted.

Jamie felt his chest seize up and his throat go dry. Never forget?! Surely he must be referring to the head trauma that Claire was likely to incur from fighting this man. What could possibly have happened to her, to make her fear a red coat more than this?

“Easiest money I’ve ever made.” The man’s voice was much deeper than Jamie’s.

“Go ahead, underestimate me. That’ll be fun for you.” Claire said darkly. “You’re just a big blundering bear with no teeth or claws.”

Jamie clapped a palm to his forehead and went back through the door find an inconspicuous place to watch. The wee idiot! It would seem that her trash talking had made all of her opponents forget any reservations they may have had about fighting a woman.

The talking died down as Gavin stepped into the center of the ring to end the previous match. He looked around, enjoying the enthralled look on his patrons’ faces. “Now I understand that many of ye came tonight to see a certain wee Sassenach.”

The crowed erupted into cheers, and Jamie was feeling more sick by the second. He felt a strange pang of possessiveness at the word Sassenach. It would never mean the same thing coming out of someone else’s mouth.

Gavin held his arms up to silence them. “Now ye should ken that tonight is her last fight, but let me first introduce her opponent. For those of ye who dinna ken, Tom Campbell here has never lost a fight.” And out walked the bear. Some people cheered, some murmured excitedly, some doubtfully. Jamie wasn’t sure how this could possibly get any worse.

“Now, without further ado, I give ye the Sassenach!”

Claire hurdled over the side of the wooden barrier of the ring. Tucked into the breeks, she wore a simple white cloth shirt. Her hands had been wrapped in linen strips to the middle of her forearm, and she wore no shoes. The little piece of Jamie’s tartan was now tied in her hair. There was no obvious expression on her face. She had opted instead for quiet intensity.

“Opponents will now shake hands.” Gavin had to remind them.

Tom Campbell’s hand completely engulfed Claire’s. He saw the tendons pop out as he squeezed a little too hard. Claire snatched her hand back and her lip curled.

As the match began, it became apparent that not everyone was a Sassenach fan. It was hard enough for Jamie to ignore the scathing insults some people were yelling, but it was almost impossible to keep himself from running into the ring and knocking out Tom Campbell himself. If Claire knew he was here, she’d want him to trust her, and let her hold her own against this man.

Tom had already landed a punch or two right into her mouth. Her face was the at the perfect hight for his fists. The top of her head rose barely to the middle of his chest, bun included.

But she was still standing, and she didn’t seem to be in pain. She was light on her feet as she danced around him, dodging the majority of his blows. She drove her fist with all her might into Tom’s abdomen, and he threw back his head in laughter. Claire had backed away, shaking out her hand.

She had yet to get any solid hits on him. She seemed to be waiting for something. “Whatever is the matter?” She taunted. “Am I too fast for you? Am I making you dizzy?” The man roared and lunged at her.

“Claire!” Jamie screamed her name, but it was drowned out by the crowd.

When the dirt had settled, the crowd has gone silent. Claire was on her stomach, and the brute had her left arm bent and pinned painfully against her back. The littlest finger stuck out at an odd angle. Her face was drawn with pain but there was the hint of a smile in the corner of her mouth. “Well you’re going to feel downright foolish Tommy.” She said. “You probably should have taken both of my arms.”

She turned as much as she could to the right, and threw the handful of dirt she had concealed in her right hand right into his eyes. He shrieked and fell to his knees, now right in her range. The rest of the fight lasted less than ten seconds but Jamie felt as if he was watching in slow motion.

She was on her feet again faster than lighting. After paying him back with interest for the punches she received, she grabbed his arm and drew him forward. Tom Campbell, eyes streaming, could barely see what was about to happen to him.

Jamie watched with a mixture of horror and a little bit of pride as he saw all of his own techniques executed perfectly and lethally. Claire’s elbow collided with the man’s mandible, and the ear splitting crack silenced everyone. But she wasn’t done yet. She had then jumped over a foot off the ground. On the way down, both of her feet had planted themselves firmly into Tom’s chest and knocked him back with such a force that the sound of his head colliding with the wooden barrier sounded almost like a gunshot. He lay crumpled and moaning on the dirt floor.

Claire stood there alone, hunched over with her hands on her knees and chest heaving. If she was surprised that she won, she was purposely not showing it. There was a new gash on her temple. Hair was stuck to her forehead, which was shining with sweat. A deep red splotch bloomed in white of her eye. Her mouth was slightly open as she took rhythmic, panting breaths. Blood had pooled inside her lip, and she spat it onto the ground. She looked terrifying and beautiful all at once, almost like she wasn’t even real.

Gavin announced her the winner. Some of the patrons were clapping and cheering. Others simply stared at her in open-mouthed disbelief. The fight was over, and Jamie had meant to leave but he was rooted to the spot. Claire slowly straightened up. She had been staring off into space and she extended her hand out to Gavin without looking at him. He dropped an enormous bag of coin into her palm.

And Jamie was finally able to identify his deepest fear. Although he cared for her safety more than anything, he cared for Claire herself even more. She was going to use that money to leave, and there was nothing he could do to stop her. It was what she wanted for months, and he had always pushed it back behind his brain, out of sight. He could never ask her to stay, it didn’t seem right. He had made the mistake of thinking he meant more to her than this.

It was as though someone has turned his hearing back on, and the screaming of the crowed came rushing back. Somehow, Jamie knew exactly what Claire was going to think if she saw him. But he didn’t have to wait much longer to have it confirmed. He was rooted to the spot unable to look away, and they had suddenly locked gazes from all the way across the room. Her eyes widened at the sight of him. The spell was broken and he hastily made for the exit and wondered miserably if she’d be gone come morning. Honest feelings and bad timing make the most painful combination.

_________________________________________________________________

Fuck fuck fuck. And everything had been going so horribly right too. The initial shock was draining away and quickly becoming replaced by anger. I had spent the entire evening being so happy with myself. It was almost over, and he had been there the whole fucking time.

I shouldered my way through the crowd with great difficulty. Hands came from all directions to pat me on the back. Someone tried to hand me a pint. I had finally broken through to the back where I roughly pulled on my outer clothing and my boots. I sensed somebody standing in the doorway behind me.

“Excellent fight, sassenach.” It was Peter.

“Do not call me that.” I said acidly.

“What’s the matter? You’ve just won!” There was something odd about the expression on his face, like he was keeping a fantastic secret and he wanted me to beg to know what it was.

“Doesn’t feel like it. Get out of my way.”

He pushed a greasy flap of hair back off of his forehead. “Where’s that red head?”

“Jamie? Hell if I know.” Technically not a lie, as I in fact did not know his exact location but I could hazard a guess. Why would Peter care anyway? It inexplicably bothered me and I pushed past him out the back door, bumping him with my shoulder a little harder than necessary.

Jamie was halfway back to the tavern when I caught up with him. He stopped in the middle of the alleyway as he heard my running feet stop suddenly behind him. He didn’t turn around, plainly wanting me to speak first.

“Who told you?” Was all I could think to begin with.

He whirled around and ran both of his hands roughly through his hair. “No one told me Claire. I could almost laugh out loud upon hearing such a question. You may as well have told me, instead of trying to keep track of all yer stories. That must have gotten so tiring for you.”

I chewed my lip, not having expected to get so mad so early in the argument. “Why are you even here? Did you want to catch me? Well congratulations. You’ve done it. What are you going to do now? Drag me back to Dougal? Or perhaps pour me a glass of whisky so you can have another excuse to put your face right up to mine?”

He’d been trying to cut me off during my rapid-fire questioning. But now his mouth had pressed into a thin line. He attempted to put on a mask of anger to match mine but I could still see the hurt in his face. I was trying to upset him, and telling him that whisky-filled night meant nothing to me did a pretty good job of it. The Claire Beauchamp in that moment did not care.

“I only wanted to make sure you were safe.” He said quietly.

“Well I don’t need you to okay?” I shot back at him. “I didn’t ask you to watch over me. I won didn’t I?”

“Aye ye won but at what cost? Ye’re purple from head to toe and I’ll be damned if that finger isna broken. What’s worse, ye’ve deliberately risked the English finding ye!”

I quickly put the finger in question behind my back. It was beginning to take the form of a small sausage. I then decided against my better judgement to escalate the fight into a full blown shouting match.

“Stop trying to discipline me like a child! I’m fine. The English aren’t coming back for weeks, and in case you didn’t hear me before, I won. And everyone saw it.”

Jamie threw his hands up in exasperation. “Christ Claire ye’ll do anything for spite d’ye ken that? Don’t ye care that ye’ve already proven yerself to the people that actually matter?” He said desperately.

“What if that’s not good enough for me?” I spat back.

He bowed his head. “Then I hope ye ken ye’ll never be satisfied.”

Then, when my coin pouch fell with a seemingly deafening clank onto the ground between us, I thought that night the universe wanted all of our unspoken issues to be laid out before us. We both stared silently at it for a few seconds before I swiped it back and tucked it into my belt.

“But ye care about yer so-called freedom even more than spite aye?” His voice held an odd note almost like he rehearsed this, or at least spent a very long time thinking about it.

“You hate being alone. Ye think ye’ve gotten used to it, that it’s the only way for you. And that's why ye’re ready to run away like a frightened little rabbit, even when ye’ve found a new family.”

I opened my mouth to speak but he stopped me. The dam had been broken.

“Dinna think I haven’t seen ye pass money on to Dougal every morning thinkin’ he’ll reward ye with your ring. And dinna think I don’t know that you’re going to l-leave with all haste the second ye get it back! All this nonsense about the Jacobites.”

Then very quietly, “somehow the fact that ye’re hiding it makes it worse. You hate that someone is able to make ye feel something.” He finished, breathing raggedly.

He had taken several steps forward during his speech, as if to impress upon me the magnitude of what he was saying. Of what he was feeling. He was now standing less than a foot from me. I thought to the onlooker that it must have looked like we were about to tear each other apart in the ring.

I had stopped shouting but where my voice lacked volume, it was now filled with venom. “Jacobite nonsense? The story of an innocent boy flogged half to death doesn’t mean nothing to me Jamie. Neither does the fact that families are being torn apart and culture is being destroyed. Perhaps you should think again before you claim to know me so well. Because guess what.”

I had been repeatedly jabbing my finger into his chest as I spoke. Now, I reached inside the neck of my shirt, drew out the ring, and held it up to his face. It spun gently to and fro in midair, glinting slightly in the moonlight.

“Dougal already gave it back you bastard. And I’m still here.”

#outlander #outlander fanfic #outlander fanfiction #outlander fandom #jamie fraser #claire beauchamp #jamie x claire #jamie and claire #the sassenach warrior

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katsukikitten · 4 years

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Can i get a scenario of a abused Survivor trying to work up the nerve to ask out Inas. Inas likes her very much but knew he frighten her with his height, strength & intimidating muscles. After months of her hiding from him or out right running away Inas started backing off. It took a while to figure out she's a afraid of him so slowly he start talking softer and backing off. Imagine the surprise of not only being asked out by his crush but her also sharing her past with him and her telling him.

Here you go! Thank you for being so patient! I hope you enjoy the little art I made for it too!

Your heart pounds in your chest as you stare down what, for you, is your biggest paradox.

A broad shouldered man, hair just short of a buzz cut whose bellowing laugh is as nice as it is scary.

His voice booms with passion, firm body standing at attention while large palms seem gentle yet so very deadly.

You've seen his quirk, his power only adding to his already frightening stature.

His muscled body seems same and yet dangerous as your eyes follow his every move as your past begins to creep up on you. Your skin tingles from ghost actions of the past, a cold sweat dripping down your spine as he approaches you during lunch.

"Y/LN!" He shouts in his normal vigor and you flinch out of habit. His tone is friendly and yet his voice still has your heart racing even faster.

Hard enough that it's beginning to steal your breath. Especially so as he towers over you, standing closely, as he does with everyone. A gentle breeze wafts the smell of cool crisp air carrying a threat of rain, the kind that can only be found just before the stratosphere.

He doesn't know, he doesn't know. You repeat in your head over and over as fingers dig into tender flesh, losing sight on what he's saying to you.

Did he say something about the school festival? Oh please Kamisama say that he didn't. Did he need your help with something in it or did he expect you to go?

You couldn't do that, the hum of so many people would drive your already sensitive quirk mad. It was difficult not to ease drop on people's thoughts but the more flustered you were the louder all of the voices got.

As they are getting now, even in the mostly deserted courtyard of maybe ten people including yourself. All of their voices overlap, drowning out whatever the hell Inasa is saying. And honestly whatever he's thinking.

But one thing stands out and you are unsure if he said it aloud or if his thoughts somehow won out over the others.

"Please say yes."

You gulp, gasping for air as you squeeze your eyes shut. Hoping beyond hope that you'd disappear in the darkness behind your lids.

But the world doesn't work that way. Hammering heart in your chest that claws it's way up your throat has you choking out.

"E...excuse me s..senpai."

Cheeks burning as you flee from your trigger.

Inasa is handsome, kind, passionate he shares nothing in common from the man of your past.

Nothing but the same powerful stature and booming voice. But never the same tones or body language. A shiver tremors through you as *his* face services to the forefront of your mind.

Cami approaches a stunned and defeated looking Inasa. Her hand is gentle as it touches a thick bicep.

"Why does she keep running away from me? It's been like three months! Do I smell?" His brow furrows scrunching up his handsome features. Cami pops her gum before sighing, grabbing onto his muscular arm.

"Well she was..." Cami hesitates as the pair watch your retreating form, both sets of eyes lingering in your glistening scars. She thinks better of it, popping her gum once more before admitting the lesser evil of the truths.

"She must like you at the very least. I mean no one else gets that red around you unless they wanna kiss!" Cami returns to her dumbed down personality, pursing her lips into a delectable smooch. Inasa's heart pounds into his chest, tips of his ears turning a slight hue of pink.

"Sh..she doesn't like me. She can't." He hadn't felt this way before, really. Maybe once upon a time he allowed his heart to flutter in anticipated admiration until the hand of his most prized "hero" dashed his innocence to the ground. Paper crumpled and marker long since rolled away.

He grits his teeth, fists clenched and vows to make you a friend.

Meanwhile his stuttering heart demands you be made more.

But he pushes the odd feeling down as he sets out to find out what exactly is going on.

Whether it be by you or another means.

He tries to get it straight from the source first. Approaching you during lunch for the next few weeks. Causing you to freeze up or fleeing the second you see him.

He cannot take it any longer, even trying a softer approach but you have figured out his schedule and you are no longer beneath the thick oak tree.

He finds you by chance, a breeze wafting the smell of you his way. He would know that delicately sweet scent anywhere and when he spies you beneath the small tree he smiles and waves.

You look around you frantically before your cheeks turn into deep shades of red. Barely able to wave back before he divulges information from somewhere else.

Not too many people were even aware of your existence, which you were more than happy with, leaving Inasa with more questions than answers.

He stares out the window of the third floor as he watches you retreat nearly off campus to that new tree. He watches you swipe a hand over your forehead as if to remove sweat. He sends gentle cool breeze your way.

"You sure are causing a commotion over her." Seiji states as he peers over a broad shoulder, "You might want to stop."

Inasa grits his teeth, grip on his chair threatening to snap the wood as he glares up at his friend.

"Why is that?" A feral bite from the normally loud, dog like man. He is met with a sneer as Seiji stands with hands behind his back. When it doesn't click in that big head of Inasa's he sighs rolling dark eyes.

"Didn't you ever wonder why she keeps to herself?" He prompts, not entirely expecting an answer. Silence passes on a steady breeze as Sakura flutter to the ground.

"It's because she's never really been treated like a person before. A small ring of villains used her for her mind reading quirk for quite sometime. The man who stole her from her family is still at large." Its now that Seiji pulls out his phone, bringing up an article with a damning picture, "And you look just like him. "

His face goes slack before his jaw clenches. Teeth creaking from the pressure as black eyes narrow on his doppelganger.

A twin of sorts aside from the lotus tattoo that blooms across his Adam's apple. If Inasa didn't know any better he would wonder him kin.

He jumps from the third floor, passionately and irrationally rushing for you.

Your brows furrow when you see the thick figure land on two feet before the streamline for you. You swallow thickly, idly gathering your things together as he approaches with a dark look in his eye.

But the closer he gets the more you're paralyzed, like a cornered rabbit as a snarling wild eyed wolf stares down his meal. You jump to your feet, head screaming for you to move until his voice comes out sharp and demanding.

"Stay." It booms, having your knees collapse beneath you from fear itself. Quirk deadly silent as you're fearful to use it, to hear exactly how he is going to hurt you.

What bones he will break first to find out what you know of him.

But he bypasses you, close enough to be seen but far enough to be out of arm's reach. You hear the bark scrape at his shirt as he slides down the other side of the tree. Your heart pounds in your feet with the tingling need to run. But you pull your legs to you instead, slowly nestling your own back into the young tree.

A part of you screams, demands to flee, that this small tree, barely thick enough to fully separate the two of you, could fail you soon enough. He could rip it from the earth with clumping roots clinging to the last visage of home, whether he would use his bare hands or his powerful quirk you were unsure.

The only thing you were sure of was the deafening sound of rushing blood in your ears as you try so hard not to use your violating quirk.

Odd silence stretches between the two of you. Making it even more unsettling since you were so used to Inasa's normally thunderous voice causing you to think you've done something wrong. Especially so when it is barely heard when he speaks.

"I uh...I heard what happened..." He trails off, broad hand rubbing over his forehead and through what little hair, "I'm sorry."

You want to ask him what for but your voice seems stuck in your throat. As it always has been when it comes to him. You had been instantly attracted to himabs and yet your body repelled you. Evolution doing it's best to avoid being put in another damning and dreadful situation. It is quiet long enough you think him gone until a deep growl leaves his throat.

"I'm sorry someone ever did that to you. Most importantly I'm sorry I was insensitive to your situation. That I approached you so aggressively these past few months. It makes sense why you'd run away from me. But I'm here for you and I want to protect you. If...if you let me protect you I swear by Kamisama above I WILL keep you safe. You will never be harmed like that again." Conviction weighs heavy in his soft spoken voice, his hand suddenly coming into your peripheral vision. Palm up and waiting.

It weighs heavy in your heart, and truly you believe him.

That he would never hurt you.

Lock you away.

Fear you and use you until you were reduced to nothing more than a lie detector that collected dust in the darkest parts of the house. Forgotten until needed again.

He would never do that to you and here he was offering you his heart in the form of his outstretched hand in a gentle way.

Something you weren't sure he was capable of. And it was all for you.

You lace your fingers in his squeezing tightly in response.

Telling him through your kissed palms that you trust him, that you'll accept his offer.

A heavy wind blows bringing with it your most favorite scent.

Inasa, cool crisp air from the stratosphere, a threat of rain and a hint of the changing seasons.

The smell of hope for a better future. A future he will gladly help you build.