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hcuyk · 3 years

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OUR BEAUTIFUL GOODBYE | L.JH

SYNOPSIS : y/n makes a decision to call hyunjae, their one and only ex-boyfriend, to escort them to the airport in hopes of getting one last goodbye before leaving the country

PAIRING : exboyfriend!hyunjae x genderneutral!reader

PERSPECTIVE : 2nd person omniscient

GENRE : (strangers to friends to lovers to) exes to strangers, supposed to be pure angst idk what happened, some fluff, tossed in like two sentences of humor take it or leave it, more bittersweet than angst ig idk someone pls save me

WARNINGS : a lot of flashbacks and reminiscing, there's like one suggestive part, whatever's italicized is a flashback of some sort (because the back and forth can get confusing)

WORD COUNT : 6.4k+

우리 아름다웠던 goodbye | NAVIGATION

tagging @nilesig because i'm still expecting haknyeon pics

Usually, on days like this, you’d be able to spot a hint of the soft blue that most claimed as their favorite color through the snow, it being both a calm and comforting day despite the gentle cold the weather brought. There would be no wind, causing the snow to eloquently fall down onto the ground without much movement.

This fairytale-like setting brought families out of their houses, everyone being layered with thick long sleeves and turtlenecks whilst topping it off with a zipped up padded jacket. Knitted hats were snuggly wrapped around the children’s heads and had scarves nearly choking them by the necks.

The kids would be running around in their front yards while their parents lounged out on the decks, conversing with one another as they supervised the running fetuses that were attempting to catch the crystalized flakes with their tongues. Those same kids would also pick up a chunk of snow with their bare fingers before choosing a kid to chuck it at, laughing when their target landed face first into the snow due to the impact of the snowball.

Oddly enough, today was different. When you peered past the translucent drapes and through the window by your seat on the sofa, there was absolutely no one in sight. Cars were the only ones that would be passing by the line of houses, their headlights shining through the flecks of snow.

You figured it was because of it being currently winter break, so it was likely that most were spending their days indoors, spending the holidays with their families.

But you couldn’t help but wonder if the weather was like this because of what day it was today.

You’ve been planning on leaving the country ever since middle school, deciding that traveling the world would be an occupation you’d love to have.

Today would be the day you’d say goodbye to your home and all your close friends, and you had already given your parents a warm farewell before they headed off to work. It was no wonder that the weather had decided to represent the way you were feeling inside. The dream of leaving this country was something so beautiful, but once you stepped out, the coldness and reality will eventually hit you.

You haven’t stepped out just yet though, too afraid for what’s to come. It was planned for you to leave for the bus three hours ago, but with the current weather conditions, you figured that it’d be better if someone accompanied you to the airport instead.

So, you made an impulsive decision to call your one and only ex.

You flinched with each number your fingers pressed into your phone, cringing at how instinctive every movement was. Hearing his number being dialed in made you realize what you had done, and the possibilities of what could happen started filing into your head.

You were calling someone that you hadn’t spoken to in the past three years and therefore led you to not knowing what to expect. Anything was bound to change in that period of time, and you had no knowledge of his current whereabouts. You were sure he wasn’t even aware of you leaving the country on this very day, and you wouldn’t blame him if he immediately turned down your question with a ‘no’.

Unexpectedly, he picked up, and it instantly created an awkward atmosphere through the call, no words being able to leave either of your mouths. Hyunjae knew it was you despite how hard he worked in order to forget your phone number and was most definitely surprised at the sudden phone call, not expecting you to remember him at all.

But then again, how could you forget the one person that once made you the happiest being on earth?

“Hey.”

The silence continued from the other side of the line, and you wondered if Hyunjae even wanted to speak with you at all.

“It’s Y/N.”

“I know.” His tone was filled with sorrow, making your heart drop into the pit of your stomach.

Your fingers grazed over the red button, realizing that calling him was a mistake, but you stopped when you heard him say ‘hi’.

A smile wistfully found its way to your lips, forcing the corners of your lips to tug upwards. “Guess what?”

“Hm?”

You paused, struggling to let the words slip past your lips. Crazy how it’s only been three years, yet Hyunjae still managed to turn you into a stuttering mess.

Eventually everything slipped out of you, explaining you needed a ride to the airport.

Three years. Three years since you’ve both last interacted, and out of all the friends you had, you called him first.

But Hyunjae didn’t question it.

He didn’t question it because he knew. He still remembered the day when you sat together at lunch, explaining your life goals to one another. A shocked expression took over his features that day, begging you to let him be the one to give you a memorable, beautiful goodbye when you leave the country.

So here you were, seated in one of your parents’ sofas as you waited for Hyunjae to arrive. He stated that he moved a few cities away from where he originally lived, but he said that it wasn’t a problem and he’d be able to make it to you in time. It wasn’t like you’d be late regardless, knowing that your flight would take off in around six to eight hours from now.

With a frown, you rose from the sofa and made yourself some hot chocolate in the kitchen. When you returned, you had a knitted blanket over your legs and a book in one of your hands to distract yourself, allowing the time to pass with ease. Though, the distraction wasn’t able to do much considering your eyes had the tendency to dance over every single sentence within the book, making you unable to focus especially with the bubbly anxiety forming inside your stomach. You closed the book and let it rest in your lap, reaching over to wrap your hands around the mug on the table beside you. Your gaze lingered out the window as you took a sip from your drink, recalling the times you’ve spent with Hyunjae.

A friend of yours was celebrating their 10th birthday, and just like today, it was also snowing. The only difference was that the gentle snow storm held more joy with kids screaming the happy birthday song after being wrapped around the kitchen table. In the middle of the song, a group of boys barged through the front door, scaring absolutely everyone.

Apparently your friend’s brother invited his friends to crash his twin sister’s birthday party, Hyunjae being one of them.

When the group of kids dispersed into the living room, Hyunjae joined you on the couch with his nose scrunched up.

The other kids were distracted with an intense, loud game of mafia, but Hyunjae had his eyes on you, taking in your facial features as you watched the group of kids having fun.

The gaze you were receiving from the strange kid creeped you out, growing uncomfortable with every second that passed. Unintentionally, your body curled up against the armrest of the couch, your hands resting easy in your lap while ignoring his presence all together.

‘I know you’ was what he had said, a puppylike tilt of his head following after his words. He then continued to claim that you were both in the same class, when in reality you weren’t. So you told him exactly that, stating that you had a different teacher.

He refused to listen to your claims, shaking his head while saying you were that one kid who stole his eraser in the middle of a test.

When you asked him what your name was, his face turned pale, frozen as he tried to remember. Soon enough, his eyebrows raised and a string of apologies ran past his lips. He hid his face with the cushions provided, making you burst out in laughter.

It was then when you eased up to him, forgiving him so he would stop apologizing. Hyunjae then took it as an invitation to pester you about your name, asking for it repeatedly as he was truly invested in who you were.

You motioned the zipping of your lips, keeping them sealed as he begged through whines, his bottom lip jutted out in an attempt to guilt trip you into telling him your name.

One of his friends, Kevin, noticed him bothering you and pulled him into the new game of twister they were playing, mouthing apologies your way.

You never really caught sight of him after the event occurred until fifth grade. You didn’t share a class with him, but you noticed that he had recess during the exact same time as you.

He was the one that spotted you on the playground first, running over to you and your group of friends to ask for your name. It caused a mischievous grin to be slapped onto your face, and soon enough Hyunjae would be chasing you around the playground, repeatedly yelling ‘hey!’.

It was all fun and games, really. He knew you were messing around with him and it’d be a lie if he said he didn’t enjoy it, which explains why he never bothered to ask for your name from your friends.

Though, all things come to an end, and eventually you had to say goodbye when recess ended, leaving Hyunjae breathless and without a name.

But instead of the usual goodbye, he’d scream out to you, waving his hands in the air in order to garner your attention.

“See you later, Alligator!” he shouted, earning coos from both of your classmates.

It didn’t affect you at all, especially when you were wearing the biggest smile because of him. You loved the new friend you’ve made even if you didn’t know his name. You only remembered the curls in his brown hair and the smile he’d have adorning his lips whenever his eyes met yours, and those truly meant more than a name you may forget in the long run.

You quickly responded with a “In a while, Crocodile!” before skipping off with your class into the school building, thinking about him for the rest of the day.

As cliché as the farewell was, it became a thing between you two whenever recess ended. He’d be drenched in sweat with how much he ran after you, hands on his hips while he took his time catching his breath. Though, he’d still scream out to you whenever he could, making sure to give you the biggest farewell before your classes parted ways.

If Hyunjae was truly curious enough, he could easily make his way to any of your classmates and ask for your name, but he didn’t and neither did you. It was like the whole world had disappeared when recess arrived, leaving you two exhausted after running around without anyone bothering you guys for thirty minutes.

So this resulted in you calling each other ‘Alligator’ and ‘Crocodile’ whenever you had to address one another at the playground. Even during lunch, if he spotted you, he’d scream ‘ALLIGATOR’ and toss a juice box your way as a treat.

You’d do the same in return, except you expected your bag of cheetos to hit him smack dab in the middle of his face.

You missed every time, but it didn’t stop you from doing it the next time.

As expected, you both drifted from each other when summer break arrived, and you had forgotten about him as you were too caught up in the worries of starting middle school.

You never saw him in the halls, but there was a chance you never even recognized him in the first place considering you both received maturing features when the years passed.

In your first year of high school, you ended up in the same chemistry class as Mr. Crocodile. You didn’t even know it was him when he became your deskmate, both interacting with absolutely everyone in the class except with each other. You were mainly laid back, and it’s what made you so likeable, while Hyunjae was loud and outgoing.

This caused you to always have his back turned towards him, and he never even noticed due to being occupied with all the jokes he cracked during lessons the teacher would give.

There then came a day when you were forced to be paired up with your deskmate for a lab experiment, leaving you to do most of the world while your partner messed around with his friends, once again paying no mind to your existence.

His name would be called out by the teacher and was told that he should be focusing on the experiment and not his friend making continuous spills all over their desks.

With a sullen expression washed over his features, he turned around in his seat, propping his head up in the palm of his head as he looked at what you were doing. His eyes were mainly trained on your fingers, watching you transfer the contents from the beaker into the graduated cylinder. His gaze slowly trailed up to your face, snorting at how immersed you were into writing the details of the experiment into your notes. When the pencil fell from your fingers to pick up the cylinder in your hands, his face slowly morphed from boredom into shock, almost knocking over the beaker you had placed down minutes ago.

You didn’t notice him whatsoever, watching the liquid bubble up within the cylinder before dying down. Hyunjae continued to be left speechless, staring at you just like he did that time he met you.

His eyes traced your movements over to the sink, dumping the liquid into it before making your way back once you had taken your safety goggles off. That was when you noticed him fully staring at you, and you couldn’t help but cringe with the way he practically squinted at you.

“Alligator?” he whispered.

You seemed taken aback by the sudden animal name, snorting as you moved to clean up your shared desk with Hyunjae. “Y/N, actually,” you retorted, placing everything back into the box before turning to Hyunjae, telling him to hand over his goggles.

He stood up next to you and did as you told, handing them over to you. It was then when you gaped at the sight of his face, forgetting to retrieve the goggles from his face to put into the box. “C-Crocodile?” you stuttered, hesitant if he truly was the kid from two years ago.

“Hyunjae, actually,” he mimicked, flashing you the same smile you remembered. He put the goggles into the box yet never removed his eyes from yours, leaving you stunned.

He leaned in closer, his face being mere centimeters from yours.

You stared at him in pure shock, and the students started racing out of the classroom right when the bell rang, leaving just you two and the teacher left in the classroom.

“I finally know your name.” His smile never faltered while his mind kept repeating your name over and over as you analyzed his features before finally accepting defeat.

“I guess you do.”

You made the first move to pull away, bringing your books into your arms before rushing out of the classroom, but you didn’t miss the way Hyunjae called out to you.

‘See you later, Alligator!’ was what he had screamed.

It was funny, really, how easily you managed to capture Hyunjae’s attention after that scene.

He did his best to make you look at him by being an even louder student than the one he was before, laughing at every single joke his friends would make. He’d then peek over at you to see if you’d reacted to the jokes he spurted out himself.

You ignored him to the best of your abilities, but that didn’t stop you from smiling whenever you heard his booming voice throughout the classroom. Even when the teacher assigned different seats for the entire class, he still could make you laugh despite being across the room from you.

Though, you often trained your eyes on something else so whenever Hyunjae looked over at you, he’d frown, believing that you were smiling because of something, or possibly someone, else.

On another note, it seemed lame to know people’s names, especially those who weren’t even your friends, so Hyunjae continued calling you ‘Alligator’ whenever he spotted you in the halls.

You’d respond by calling him ‘Crocodile’, speeding right past him before revealing the smile you’ve been hiding from him. You loved the attention he gave you, as it would always be the smallest things that made your heart race, reminding you of the times he chased you around the playground.

The buzz from your phone shook you out of your wandering thoughts in your memories, making you blink multiple times before averting your attention to your device being faced down on the table.

You were in no rush to check it, bringing the mug to your lips to take one last sip of your hot chocolate before checking what Hyunjae had messaged you.

As expected, Hyunjae stated that he had arrived and was waiting outside of your house.

You texted him back saying that you needed a few minutes to clean up real quick, and he only left you on read without a response.

So you trudged over to the kitchen with the mug in your hand, running it under the hot water. As much as you tried to ignore it, your heart was pounding in your chest at the thought of seeing him again with your stomach churning due to the anxiety the thought had brought.

You wondered if anything about the boy had changed, or if he still had that small car you’ve grown to love.

When you were in a relationship with him, some of your friends would ridicule his car for being too small and broken down. Little did they know it was basically your second home and something that meant the absolute world to Hyunjae.

One day after school, Hyunjae came sprinting over to you after he had spotted you exiting the school, taking your hand in his before having you run with him through the students crowding the parking lot. He dragged you to an old, ragged car, saying that it was his father’s and it was for him to keep.

He was so excited knowing that he had just received his driver’s license a few days prior, making you extremely happy.

Even if it didn’t have the best appearance, it did bring you the best memories.

Being high schoolers in love led to late night drives down the empty streets that exited the neighborhood.

Each night, Hyunjae would appear right in front of your house, spamming you with text messages to come look out your bedroom window. When you did, you’d find him dancing under the streetlight despite the lack of music, urging you to come down and join him.

It was risky, nonetheless, but you were always successful in your attempts to sneak out, leaving through the backdoor and running into Hyunjae’s arms when you made it out.

He would then bring your hands into his, interlacing his fingers with yours before pulling you under the single streetlight that stood in front of your driveway. He’d twirl you around in the worst attempt possible, letting out a loud cackle when you had to clutch onto his shirt after having your feet stumble over one another. You’d shush him with the smack on his chest for being too loud in the middle of the night, reminding him about your sleeping parents in the house you two stood right in front of.

And with a kiss on the nose, he’d rush you into his car and drive you around the neighborhood as you guys reminisced the days where you didn’t know each other’s names whatsoever, yet somehow managed to grow attached to one another. He even brought up the fact you were both seated together in chemistry and didn’t even care to acknowledge each other until halfway into the year, and you playfully slapped his shoulder, blaming him for the lack of attention.

You two were now seniors, and although he hasn’t asked you out just yet, it felt like you two had been dating the past few years. Hyunjae started calling you pet names in private, and always sprinkled kisses onto your face whenever he could.

Hyunjae pulled over into the school’s empty parking lot when the rain started to decorate his windows, continuing your previous conversation. It then led to arguing over who was the more popular student at school, and the bickering led to Hyunjae reaching over to your seat, tickling you in order to shut you up.

You squealed at the attack, grabbing his wrist to stop him before doing the same back to him. He’d scream with laughter, making you feel ever so comforted through the storm happening outside of his car.

The small fight somehow ended up with you in his lap with your fingers entangled in his curls, only being able to focus on the way his lips tasted amidst the rain pelting down onto the hood of the car. He’d then pull away, breathless, officially asking you to be his significant other.

You nodded rapidly in response to his question before bringing him back in for another desperate makeout session, loving the way Hyunjae’s finger sneakily hooked onto the waistband of your jeans.

You shook the cup of its tears into the sink and carefully placed it in the dish rack for it to dry. Your eyes skimmed the kitchen, growing uneasy over the fact you wouldn’t be able to come back to see the place you’ve grown up in.

But you didn’t want to linger in the kitchen for any longer, going back to your spot to fold the blanket. After shoving the book into one of your two only suitcases, you took in a deep breath, still not being able to comprehend the fact you’ll be moving across the world.

After swiftly putting on your coat and your winter gloves, you pulled the door open.

And there stood Jaehyun, or Hyunjae as he wanted everyone to call him, with the little car that you had missed all those years. He didn’t even notice you standing at your door, too occupied with how nothing about the same neighborhood had changed. He was kicking at the snow beneath his feet, eyes wandering all over and eventually caught onto the single streetlamp that stood outside your house.

Even from afar you could see the strands of his curls peeking out from under his beanie, the tall male leaning against the car door with his hands shoved into the pockets of his padded jacket, waiting for you to exit your house.

It was hard to believe he was the one who spoiled your heart with all the love imaginable in the years you’ve dated before slowly choosing to tear it up into pieces right in front of you, leaving it behind in the dust before walking away.

You were the only person able to glue your heart back together, and you were sure you were over your one and only love, but seeing him made you feel the pain it’s been through all over again.

The snow was elegantly dancing in the air around you when you stepped out of your house, pulling your suitcases past the door before closing it behind you. Your footprints followed you through the thin layer of snow as you strolled down your driveway, slowly garnering Hyunjae’s attention.

He looked at you in awe, noticing the small details on your face that had never changed the last time he saw you.

A pang of guilt then stabbed at his heart when realizing that the last time he saw you was when you were on your knees in your apartment, begging for him to stay with you.

You never contacted him since then, leaving Hyunjae alone with his studies.

Truly, you were thankful he ended the relationship rather than leading you on without any feelings to spare, at least from what you presume, but you still wished he stayed and gave you a chance instead of choosing to dump you because of his failing grades.

The sparkle in his eyes disappeared at the realization that you were no longer his anymore. It’s been three years, but Hyunjae’s been so focused on himself that he had forgotten about what love felt like until he saw you walking through the snow.

He became absent as he spoke to you, telling you to get inside the car to warm yourself up while he brought the suitcases into the trunk.

The nostalgic scent of Hyunjae’s cologne invaded your senses right as you pulled the car door open, the warmth enveloping itself around you once you settled into your seat.

Your eyes immediately started to roam around the inside of his vehicle when you closed the door shut, and granted, absolutely nothing has changed even after three years. His dashboard was never cleaned of its thin layer of dust, and the accessory pockets on the car doors were still filled with crumpled pieces of paper and balled up empty chip bags.

Yet somehow you felt comforted in the seat that was always meant for you, missing the way its soft fabric would be pressed up against your back as you conversed with Hyunjae.

Even if it was only Hyunjae’s car, so many memories have been shared in the front two seats. More often than not, you’d decide to mess around and sprinkle a kiss or two on his cheek while he was busy driving, throwing yourself into a fit of giggles whenever he became distracted.

You’d think Hyunjae would at least clean up, but based on the way nothing had changed, it was easy to tell that Hyunjae hasn’t moved on.

Either that, or he had moved on, but only with himself. The dangling keychain that hung from his rearview mirror made it clear that Hyunjae has never had another significant other, especially knowing how much it meant to the two of you.

It was a souvenir that you both had bought at one of those boardwalk shops by the beach you often frequented with Hyunjae. He thought it was cute and even said it reminded him of you.

Knowing that he never removed it made you question if he was just too lazy to do so or if he still had lingering feelings for you. As much as you wanted to believe the latter, Hyunjae was always known to be on the lazier side which explains the state his car is currently in. He was never the sentimental type either, so you were sure it was only seen as a decoration to him despite him always mentioning how much the dinky thing meant to him.

Not to mention, Hyunjae was the one who ended the relationship. He was the one who made the choice to let go of you, wanting to focus on his college studies rather than his already breaking relationship.

The moments he shared with you and you yourself became nothing but a memory to him, ones that he allowed to be faltered in his mind as he continued to move on.

Hyunjae was someone you thought you understood, yet in reality you probably didn’t know him at all.

It left you in shambles knowing that he chose college over you.

You would’ve understood if he told you he was struggling, and you’d most definitely give him all the time in the world.

There’s a possibility he used it as an excuse to cover up his disappearing feelings, and you didn’t blame him. You just couldn’t. Feelings come and go like the wind, leaving the world with absolutely no control over it.

Before you could let your thoughts mindlessly wander off into your breakup for any longer, the car door to the driver’s seat swung open. You hadn’t even noticed the sound of the trunk being closed as you were too lost in your own thoughts and dealing with an aching heart.

Hyunjae pursed his lips after starting the car, choosing to stay silent as he drove out of the neighborhood. He asked no questions about where you’re moving to or what you plan on doing for a career. He didn’t even ask if you plan on keeping him in contact despite already knowing the answer.

Your eyes fixated on the houses that Hyunjae drove by, mentally saying goodbye to each and every single one of them. It was beautiful seeing them adorned with the snow, gentle layers piling on top of one another on the roof.

The snow used to be so comforting to you as it would remind you of the day when you met Hyunjae, but it became something you dreaded, hating the way something so beautiful could become something so dangerous and aggressive.

The only voice that could be heard throughout the car was Hyunjae’s phone due to him pulling up the directions to the airport. It was agonizing to hear with each turn the voice said to take, knowing that you were getting closer and closer to leaving Hyunjae’s life.

Not like he had left you three years ago, but still.

Your eyes were filled with sorrow when realizing that you’d never see him again. When you wave him goodbye and enter the airport, you’d break all contact with him and create a new life for yourself. You’d no longer have to check his instagram to check up on his well being, and you’d no longer have to worry about seeing him again.

As much as you considered him as the main love interest of your life story, there comes a place and time when you have to realize that your high school sweetheart would only remain in a chapter of your book, and he wouldn’t last forever.

When reaching the frenzied streets of the city, you realized that Hyunjae had never taken you on drives like these. The drives you shared with Hyunjae were always under the stars and down an empty road, whispering sweet nothings to one another as you could only fall deeper in love with the man sitting next to you.

Your body was pressed up against the car door with your head resting against the window. Your eyes fell shut as you listened to all the honking and noise that filled the city, only reminding you of the breakup that fell between you and Hyunjae at your apartment.

You flinched with every screech of the tires from outside the car, each and every loud noise representing how you felt when Hyunjae left you. Your hands were resting easy in your lap like always, but your fingers were clenched up into fists, hating how memories from three years ago are coming straight back to you, regretting having even thought of Hyunjae as an option to call in the first place.

It wasn’t hard to notice your broken state, Hyunjae having nothing else to do except drive and occasionally checking to see how you were doing in the passenger seat. He knew you always curled up against something whenever you felt uncomfortable, and you kept your eyes closed in an attempt to calm yourself down from whatever you were thinking about. This often happened when you had nightmares in the middle of night considering you had nothing to lean against besides Hyunjae. He didn’t mind though, gladly bringing you into his embrace so you could rest your head against his chest.

He cared about you so much, and he still does. Sure, there are days that he continues to live on like the breakup hadn’t affected him, but he knew he regretted everything the moment he left your apartment. It was selfish of him to leave you just because he was at the lowest point in his life, and he would’ve taken you back in a flash if you had called him, but you never did.

The air between the two of you was laced with sadness, your legs struggling to find a comfortable position in the spot you were in.

Without even knowing, you had fallen asleep. Hyunjae gently shook you awake by your shoulder, stating that you both were nearing the airport.

You rubbed your eyelids, thanking him through a whisper. He kept silent, and your gaze went back out the window, realizing the snow had lessened. It was still falling, but it wasn’t as heavy as before. Your hands were buried in the pockets of your coat, gazing at your surroundings.

The curved walls of the airport eventually came into view upon arrival, and despite the sun already settling below the horizon, it felt as if it continued to be daytime with the amount of light illuminating from the glass windows.

The car slowly came to a stop in front of one of the entrances. Hyunjae already left the car, but you were still buckled into your seat. Unlike the frantic crowds that you’ve seen while arriving at the airport during the daytime, people were easing into the entrances while sharing casual conversations, their mouths being buried behind their scarves as they held the hands of their loved ones.

The sight was then blocked with Hyunjae’s figure, the boy pulling the door open for you. “Need me to help you?”

You blinked at his question, swearing this had been the most he’s said to you in the past few hours. His eyes were diverted towards your seatbelt and you realized it shortly after, shaking your head in response before removing yourself from his car.

No words were exchanged between the two of you when you walked to the back of his car. You stood there behind his car, waiting for him to arrive. He smiled warmly when approaching you and gently grabbed your shoulders, pulling you back a few steps before allowing the trunk to open.

“You always stand too close to the car,” Hyunjae murmured, pulling out one of your suitcases. You were left in shock at how he remembered how you’d somehow always get hit whenever Hyunjae opened the trunk, his endearing tone making you melt despite the cold weather.

You laughed at the realization, making him smile.

And then it happened.

Him handing you your suitcases was your cue to leave.

Him handing you your suitcases was his cue to hop back into his car.

So why did neither of you move from your spots?

‘I love you’ was what you wanted to say when you noticed that Hyunjae hadn't budged. You wanted to step forward and pull him into your arms so you were able to lean in and mold your lips against his.

But what you feared the most was that none of your actions would be reciprocated. He wouldn’t let his lips dance with yours like they used to, and his hands wouldn’t wrap around your waist to pull you closer.

And most important of all, it would be impossible for him to utter ‘I love you too’.

But little did you know that he would do absolutely everything and more. He would pull you into his chest and allow your tears to seep into the layers he was wearing beneath his unzipped jacket. Even if your relationship wasn’t for forever, he would hold onto this memory, wishing for his last moments to be with you to be something he’d smile yet also cry over. He’d tell you how much he loved and loves you, giving you one last kiss on your lips before you disappeared from his life.

But none of you acted upon your resurfacing feelings after seeing each other, standing there like trees that have been through thick and thin together yet made no actual attempt to communicate or get closer.

You didn’t know what to do. A simple ‘goodbye’ couldn’t slip past your lips, and your feet felt as if they were restrained with vines that erupted from under the concrete, not allowing you to move one single inch from your spot.

Hyunjae didn’t even close his trunk and instead basked in the surrounding sounds of the airplanes taking off in the middle of the night, knowing that you’d be in one of those in the next few hours. You wouldn’t be coming back, and you would no longer live in that very house he visited every single night just to see your smile.

You missed him. You missed his kind appearance that made everyone fall for him and the lips that would kiss the tears off of your face when you watched High School Musical together.

Now, he was deemed a stranger in your eyes, but this was a stranger that you shared countless of memories with. A stranger that you wanted to date again, one that you wanted to be with forever.

But it was already too late. Your flight was booked, and he was no longer yours.

And this was going to be the beautiful goodbye that Hyunjae had always intended on giving you. This beautiful goodbye would be forever imprinted in your mind once you leave, and this beautiful goodbye was going to be nothing.

What hurt you the most wasn’t the fact that this would be your last goodbye towards one another, but the only goodbye you’ve ever received from Hyunjae.

Throughout his years knowing you, he’s never once said goodbye to you.

And you didn’t want this moment to be the first.

“See you later,” you blurted.

You could see him freeze up, slowly shifting his gaze from the airplanes over to your standing figure.

“See you later?”

“Yeah. See you later, Crocodile.”

As much as Hyunjae wanted to look away, his eyes couldn’t move from yours. He saw your eyes tearing up as hands reached for the handles of your suitcases. He knew it was your time to leave, and that this was your way of saying goodbye forever.

“In a while, Alligator.” It was a whisper, but a farewell nonetheless.

So perhaps this wasn’t the beautiful goodbye neither of you had imagined. It wasn’t a kiss on the cheek or a hug with sweet wishes, but it was the one you received, and the moment you turned your back against him with your suitcases tailing after your steps, it became an everlasting memory that couldn’t be altered.

A/N : this was meant as a timestamps to practice using imagery not a 6k word mess of a fic 😭 ALSO I NEVER REALIZED HOW MUCH THIS RELATED TO GOODBYE BY TBZ??? i only used it for the title LMAO

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ahundredtimesover · 2 years

Note

HELLO MIMI HAVE U SEEN JK'S AIRPORT PICS FROM YESTERDAY BECAUSE THEY GIVE ME SO MUCH FIGHT FOR YOU JK VIBES 😭

HI ANON YES I HAVE! Made me think of all the times that FFY bodyguard jk would accompany OC to Jeju and she’d ask him to be in casual clothes 👀 no wonder she kept flirting with him ugh who wouldn’t! But also! Now as boyfriend jk, he just serves. He looks so wide and so built and so dominating but those eyes?? Just soft 🥺🥺 thank you for the reminder hihi can’t wait for more looks.

#mimianswers #which jk #fight for you

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tinawritesstuff · 3 years

Text

Andiamo a conoscere la famiglia

(Let’s meet the family)

Pairing: Chris Evans/ Fisrt Person Reader

Wordcount: 4.7k

Warnings: smut, NSFW, read under caution

Request: “Hello!! If you’re still taking requests I was wondering if you could write a one shot where the Chris evans and age gap reader go on vacation with her family for the first time and it’s just supa sweet maybe even a little smutty? Thanks a ton” by the lovely and patient @bellamy-morley-blake

A/N: This is my first CEvans OS and I don’t know what lead me to write the tittle in Italian, but oh well. Hope you enjoy it! Don’t forget to reblog and comment if you like it!

CEvans taglist: @mrsnegan25

When I agreed to be Chris Evans’ girlfriend, the thought of him meeting my family never really crossed my mind, considering that I never thought our relationship would go further than a couple of dates.

And I’ve never been more thankful for being wrong. We’ve been together for half a year now, and things have been wonderful. He’s the most passionate guy I’ve ever met, about his job, his hobbies, his family and now, me.

We met in Disneyworld, at Magic Kingdom to be more precise, and to say sparks flew instantly would be an understatement. I was traveling with my family and him with his, and we met on the line for one of the rides. He asked for my name and then we started talking, completely forgetting about our relatives and the line ahead and behind us. After that, we went to a couple of dates, inside and out the parks at Disney, and as they say, the rest is history.

Since the moment our first date started, I knew that Chris was the type that my parents would like for me, even though our age gap was kind of obvious. But that didn’t matter so much, specially to us.

The idea of spending the holidays with my parents was mine, and I was nervous about the outcome of it and how Chris would react. I happened to be wrong, again. My boyfriend was thrilled about the idea and was excited because he’d wanted to meet my relatives for a while. So, we decided to surprise them with a trip to the Bahamas. The idea was to departure, each of us, from the locations we were in (Chris and I from Boston, to L.A., and then to the Island; and my parents from my hometown), and we would all meet and check in at the hotel.

I close the zip of my bag and let out a big huff, because I’m finally done packing my clothes and necessaire with my “lady stuff” as Chris calls it. After days and days of procrastinating, the day of our flight finally arrived and my luggage wasn’t even half way made. So, I had to go full speed and get it all together a couple of hours before leaving.

Chris texts me, saying that he and his brother are on their way to pick me up to go to the airport. I reply back with a “Ok! Can’t wait!!!” and then finish packing the last necessities.

After some minutes, I don’t know exactly how many, my phone starts ringing and when I go to pick up, I see that it’s Chris. Who else, duh?

- We’re here, baby! Do you need help with your bags?

- Uhm… I think I got it. But come up here to give me some kisses, I’ve missed you. – I pout and I hear him laugh.

- Okay, babe. I’m on my way up. – he hangs up and I keep packing stuff on my carry-on baggage: phone charger, earphones, passport, airplane tickets, etc.

I hear a soft knock on the door, then it gets opened and Chris comes in with his childish smirk. I smile back at him and walk fast to his waiting open arms. When I reach him, I jump on him, wrapping my legs around his slim waist and my arms around his neck, and he holds me tight against him, putting one of his hands on my back and the other under my butt.

I grab his face with both my hands and bring him close to me, to seal our lips in a deep kiss. The last time we saw each other was ten days ago, and I can see that he missed me as much as I did him. When we break apart, he smiles at me and I peck his nose, then his cheekbones and finally go back to peck his pink and full lips. Gosh, how I’ve missed him.

- I’m afraid that, if you keep this up, we won’t make it to the airport. – he says between pecks and I nod my head, but don’t let go of him.

He then puts me down, seeing that I have no intention of doing so, and grabs my face to give me one last full, deep kiss. We separate and he goes to grab my big bag, silently asking with a nod of his head if there’s anything else I need him to carry, to which I shake my head no and he nods again. I go grab my backpack and then we both take off, me closing and locking the door once we’re outside. We walk hand in hand down through the building I live in, till we reach the lift. Once inside it, we make small talk about his latest projects and my online classes. He talks a bit about A Starting Point, how the interviews have gone and how it has impacted to young population (me included, and I’m not even from the U.S). I feel so proud of him, he’s achieved a lot, after working so hard for it.

When we reach the first floor, the metal doors open and we walk to the reception of the building, where Albert (the doorman by the entrance) greets us and opens the door for us. When we step outside, I thank the kind man and we both walk to Chris’ car, where his brother Scott is waiting for us. My boyfriend opens the trunk to get my suitcase inside, and I open the back door to get into the car.

- Hi sweets, how are you? – greets me Scott once I’m seated, with a big smile on his handsome face.

- Hello, handsome. I’m pretty well, how about you? – I smile back at him and lean forward to kiss his cheek.

- Awesome. It’s been an amazing couple of weeks lately.

- That’s great, hon! Tell me more about it.

I pay high attention to him while Chris climbs on the passenger seat, and Scott tells me all about this new guy (Steve) he’s been seeing lately. I love how happy he is, he definitely deserves it.

On our way to the airport, we share what each of us has been up to in the time we didn’t see one another, while Chris controls the music with his phone that is connected to the stereo via Bluetooth. “More than words” by Extreme sounds through the speakers and my boyfriend looks at me through the side mirror and smiles lightly at me, letting me know with that gesture that this song is dedicated to me, to us.

The thing is, we haven’t told each other the ‘L’ word yet and the worst part is that I don’t even know why. We love each other, we show the other that we feel that way, but expressing those words out loud has proven to be a difficult task.

I smile back at him and lean forward to leave a peck on his shoulder, with the car seat between us. Scott keeps making small talk, and sometimes the three of us would sing whenever a classic song comes next. It takes us at least forty minutes to arrive to our destination, and when we do, we still have one more hour to do the check in and wait to board our flight. Chris and I go to the check in and dispatch area, where we hand the kind old lady our passports and tickets, and she does the procedure to send us, later, to the boarding waiting room. We say goodbye to Scott, with huge hugs and kisses from my part and a tight hug with a pat in the back from Chris, and we go to the security scanner to get ourselves checked. It only takes us around twenty minutes, and we are finally able to go to wait for our flight to be announced.

Some fans come to ask for pics with Chris, and he can’t refuse them. They stare at me weirdly, making me feel anxious in a way, because I’m not sure how to interpretate those looks. Are they mad? Are they judging me, or my relationship with Chris? We haven’t gone public yet, so I don’t really know what they could possibly be judging me for. So, I decide to let it go for now.

A voice in the speakers calls for the attendants of our flight to board, and that’s when he can finally come back to me. He gives me a sympathetic smile while I collect our stuff and I just wave it off. It’s not a big deal.

After almost thirteen hours of flying and waiting (five hours from Boston to L.A, then three hours waiting for our next flight, and finally four more hours to Bahamas), we make it to the hotel around six in the morning, completely tired and with zero energy to do anything but sleep. We leave our bags next to a couch the room has, and I decide to go and take a quick shower to remove the airplane smell from my body. When I’m done, I get out of the bathroom with just a towel around my body and one holding my wet hair, and I spot Chris soundly snoring on the bed. I let out a little laugh and then proceed to get comfy in one of his shirts and one of my black thongs he loves so much. After that, I go lay down next to him until I can’t keep my eyes open anymore and fall deeply asleep.

The next day, I wake up tangled between Chris’ limbs and I let out a big yawn before circling my arms around his back, closing my eyes and kissing his naked shoulder. I feel him stir and then turning around to face me, leaving a trail of kisses from my face down to my neck and shoulders. He keeps pecking every inch of skin he can reach, until I open my eyes and smile lightly at him, and he smiles back at me, before leaning forward to leave a sweet kiss on my lips.

- Good morning, pretty girl. – he mumbles against my cheek and leaves a peck there.

- Good morning, big guy. How’d you sleep?

- Mmm… your incessant snoring actually kept me up for a couple of minutes, but I’m getting used to it by now. – I reply coyly and he lets out a snort.

- Like a baby, considering I’ve finally got you all to myself. – he smiles again and I back at him. – How about you?

- You aren’t what they call a light sleeper either, my love. Have had your fair share of snores as well.

- And I’m sure you haven’t been able to sleep properly for it, specially tonight.

We spend a couple of minutes there, laying in bed, sharing kisses and silent touches, showing to the other that we lounged for this moment, after being apart for so long. The clock marks ten past eleven in the morning, and we decide to get up and unpack our bags. Chris goes for a shower first, and then joins me to do the task in hand.

After some brunch, we head out of the room after I receive a text from my mom saying that they were settled in the hotel (same as ours) and that we should meet them at the lobby. Chris takes my hand, and I can feel him sweating with the tip of his fingers cold as ice, touching the skin of my own. I take our joined hands to my mouth and leave a little kiss on the back of his, letting him know that everything’s fine, and he turns to look at me and smiles nervously but his shoulders visibly relax.

When we reach the lobby, I can see my parents waving their arms at us, and I wave back at them with a big smile on my face. I’m so excited about this.

Chris and I walk hand in hand to them and when we are face to face, I jump to hug both my parents after months of not seeing them due to my job commitments. They hug me back, telling me how much they’ve missed me. When we break our group hug, I turn to my boyfriend and stretch my hand to him, beckoning to come closer to us. He does just that, but stays an arm length to greet them with a handshake (I suppose), except that my mom doesn’t let him and pulls him in a big hug, taking Chris by surprise.

- I’m sorry, darling, but we’re huggers.

- It’s ok, ma’am. I am one myself, but didn’t want to cross any line.

- I’m starting to like you and I don’t even know your name, son. – my father smiles and pats Chris on the back, instead of going for a full bear hug like my mom did.

- It’s Chris, sir. Chris Evans, a pleasure to finally meet you.

The day goes on pretty much that way. Chris and my parents engage into deep conversations about diverse topics, like politics, sports, even religion. Dad explains to him the importance of meritocracy to make a citizen evolve (according to his point of view, obviously) and Chris gives his opinion about that topic as well.

We enjoy some time in the hotel pool, my mom and I sunbathing while our men chat away in the bar, and when the sun starts to go down a bit we decide to go and sightsee around the island. First, each of us go to our respective rooms, to shower the chlorine off our bodies and get into comfortable clothes.

Once that’s done, we meet again at the lobby, where my parents arrived first (because my man and I took some extra time to do… some extra activities), and were talking with the receptionist, asking him where we can visit. He gives us some maps that show the nearest touristic area, somewhere we could reach walking, and we all thank him before leaving.

We go to a small village, where local markets are still open to the public, and we all go our ways to see and buy stuff if we feel like it. Chris and I walk with our fingers intertwined, me resting my cheek on his strong bicep and leaving little pecks every now and then. I feel the love I have for him radiating through my veins, after the success of this afternoon, all I want to do is be with him, show him how much I thank and love him for today and all the effort he put to make things easier.

- Look, baby – he says signaling a stand with different handicrafts on a table, with a lovely smiling old lady standing behind it.

I look around, and Chris leaves my side for a moment to go and check out some of the rest of the stands. A quartz stone necklace catches my attention and, after asking the kind lady, I grab it between my fingers.

- Each of the rocks have different meanings, you know. – the woman says and I look back at her – The green one you’re holding now represents prosperity and wellness, and they all change according to the color. The purple one goes for spirituality and meditation, the blue one for calm force and relaxation, and the list goes on and on. – she smiles sweetly at me and I back at her. – Any of them caught your eye?

- The green one, actually. If you had two of them, it would be amazing.

She smiles again and leans down to reach for something under the table, to come back up with another necklace just like the one I’m holding in my hands. She puts them both inside a little paper bag and I hand her the money, then I thank her and go back to my boyfriend.

We continue our walk until the sun sets completely and we decide to grab some dinner before heading back to the hotel. After dinner, my parents decide to go to bed early because of the long flight and the hours of endless fun they had with us, calling it a night. But Chris and I opt to go to walk through the beach for some time. And that’s what we do.

The path is silent, but nice. We walk holding hands and suddenly I remember the two pieces of artisan jewelry I have inside my little purse, which makes me stop my walk and Chris to look at me confused.

- I got something for, well, us. – I say with a smile handing the pendant to him. He looks at me with a confused but lovely smile – When you left be on that stand, I saw these necklaces and instantly fell in love. The nice lady said they have different meanings depending on the color.

- Well, what does the green one mean baby?

- It’s a symbol of prosperity and wellness, according to her. And I knew I had to get one for each of us. – I take a deep breath. Okay, here it goes. – Today was lovely, with my parents and everything, you made it so special and joyful. I’m so thankful for you, that I had to get you something to express that, so this is it. This is my wish for us, a commitment I decide to make to you, for this relationship to be as prosperous and strong as this solid piece. Because I love you, and all I want to do is grow this love with you next to me, supporting each other and working hard to make it work.

I finish my little speech with a crack in my voice, tears accumulating in my eyes, but I couldn’t care less, because I’ve been dying to let him know that I love him with every piece of me, every fiber of muscle, every single part of me loves him like I never loved anyone before. When I look up at him, I see the same emotions radiating from his baby blues, and he wastes no time to grab my face between his soft hands and kisses me with all the adoration he has for me, that I know he has.

- God, I can’t believe you’ve made me tear up like this. – he says when we break the kiss and we both chuckle – You’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met, inside and out. Your words just made me fall in love even more deeply with you, and now I feel like an idiot for not expressing my feelings well enough. - He laughs in embarrassment – But the thing is, I love you with all of me, with every piece of mind and soul, in every way there’s possible, and I commit to you as well to make this love grow even more, and work for it through thick and thin. You’re my world, nugget.

Now I’m fully- ass crying. I hug him tightly, circling my arms around his strong shoulders, and he puts his around my back, lifting me and hiding his face in the space between my neck and shoulder. Chris leaves little pecks on the skin there, and finally moves his mouth to mine, sealing our love deal with a searing kiss. A kiss that holds every emotion we have and share, emotions we’ve been suppressing all this time. No more, though.

When we break apart, he asks me to put the pendant around his neck and he does the same with me, and with happy smiles on our faces we walk back to the hotel.

We reach our roon and I can feel the change on the air. There’s tension, and Chris looks at me with a promise of a night full of showing me that he meant every word he said. I walk backwards, with Chris walking towards me, guiding me to the bed and making me fall on it when I reach it with the back of my knees. He crawls above me, placing both his hands on each side of my head, looking directly in my eyes. I smile at him, bringing one of my arms up to caress his bearded jaw, and he leans into my touch, leaving a little kiss on my hand right after.

Chris starts caressing my legs, from my ankles up to my thighs, leaving a path of goosebumps on my skin as he lifts my long skirt and rolls it up on my hips, leaving my covered crotch exposed to his starved sight. I let out a sigh when he blows a thin rush of air from his mouth, hitting my pussy directly, making me squirm because the contrast between the heat of my wet womanhood and his cold breath is evident and rushes a wave of pleasure through my body. He grabs both my legs with his big hands, opening me wide and exposing me even more to him, then goes and presses his nose right on my mound, inhaling deeply and closing his eyes while doing so.

- You smell divine, doll. – he whispers and pecks my, still, covered mound.

I let out an almost soundless whimper at that statement. His bed vocabulary is so vulgar, yet he makes it sound so erotic and sexy. He hooks his thumb and index finger around the waistband of my underwear and pulls it off, taking it to his nose and giving a little sniff that makes me close my eyes out of shyness. He can be so dirty, but oh so hot at the same time.

- Open those beautiful eyes, pretty girl. I want you to look at me directly while I have this tasty dessert.

I open my eyes, moving my body to be laying on my elbows and have a better angle to look at him, and he finally sweeps his tongue along my slit, teasing my clit with the tip once he reaches it. I look down at him, biting my lower lip and he goes back to the long strokes. Letting out a moan of protest at how slow he’s going, I grip the back of his head with one hand to make him go a little faster, deeper, harder; I don’t know, anything. Or at least I try.

- Patience, my sweets. Marvelous things come to those who wait. – he says and licks up and down my opening a couple of times before pulling away

Chris removes his polo shirt, exposing his tight chest muscles covered on all those sexy tattoos he has, and I find my mouth watering at the sight of his hot self. Then, he undoes his pants and pulls them down, along with his briefs, before coming back to be on top of me again.

- I thought you wanted to taste me? – I pout and he smiles widely at me.

- I will, my lovely. Just wanted to get comfortable, don’t wanna mess up my pants with jizz, now do ya’? – his Boston accent comes out and I moan closing my eyes.

- No, sir. We don’t want that – I answer in a small voice, biting my lip once again and batting my eyelashes at him because I know it drives him wild.

He lets out a guttural groan at that and finally holds my legs, puts them on his shoulders to have better access, and dives in to eat from my wetness, like starved man. I yelp in surprise when I feel his mouth making out with my lower lips, adding his tongue to the mix, driving me completely crazy, and he wastes no time to flick my clit with the flexible muscle inside his mouth, then sucks it between his lips, making me mewl because he’s just so good.

- I swear you have the sweetest pussy I’ve ever tried, baby. So juicy, I could spend a lifetime eating you.

Chris keeps his wonderful mouthy work, until he makes me cum the first time, adding his fingers to the process. It’s always like this: he makes sure I’m absolutely ready to take all of him, all of what he has to offer me, making me cum at least twice with his mouth only. I know I’m in for a really long night (but no one hears me complaining about it, oh no.).

The sensitivity in my core is too much, but he’s having none of it. He keeps lapping around my opening, then goes up and creates patterns with his tongue around my nub, drawing eights and different shapes to stimulate it. I grab a hold of the back of his head, making him immediately stop his movements and leave his tongue out, and I start grinding my wetness up and down his mouth, marking the rhythm and speed to my liking. I’m seconds away from coming, and he knows it because this is what I usually do when the pleasure his mouth gives me overwhelms my senses.

After a marvelous second orgasm, he climbs on top of me again, caressing my legs and pecking every inch of skin he reaches as he goes to my kiss my mouth. He places himself on his elbows, placing them on each side of my head, and with one delicate thrust he goes all in, getting a low and long moan from me and making me cling to him with all the sentiment and passion I feel for him.

- Fuck, baby. You’re so goddamn tight, still can’t believe this little cunt takes all of me in.

He lets out a low groan after that, being so into dirty talk, he can’t keep himself from saying the nastiest things I’ve ever heard right in my ear, which adds more lust to the situation.

Chris’ thrusts are slow but hard, taking his time to let me feel all of him inside me, making me moan and arch my back to him. He moves his arms to hold me close and still, taking his hands down to grab my ass, all while he’s still pounding into me. I grab myself with a firm grip on his shoulders, kissing him passionately as he becomes more agitated and uncoordinated, meaning he’s close.

One of his hands travel to my mound, and it doesn’t take him long to find my sensitive bundle of nerves and he starts rubbing it in swift but decided circles to bring me close to my third climax.

- C’mon, baby. Cum for me, I can feel your tight pussy clenching around me, I’m right there with you, let’s cum together.

The intensity of his words, the flicks on my clit and the powerful thrusts of his pelvis inside my channel, are enough to bring me to the ectasis that has been boiling inside of my lower belly, making me moan and groan out his name. The sudden tightness around his cock are what makes him go still and let a growl out of his pink and bruised mouth, releasing all of him inside my womb.

Riding me through my orgasm and his, Chris slows the pace of his thrusts, until he pulls put completely and lays all his weight on top of me, not that I mind in the slightest. I kiss his temple a couple of times, while holding him close to me, and I feel him kissing my shoulders and neck. Once our breaths are settled and calm, he rolls over to his side of the bed, bringing me with him to lay y head on his chest and interwind our lower joints.

- Thank you for today, love. It was amazing – I whisper against his pec and kiss him there.

- I should be thanking you, baby. Your gift got me even softer and weaker for you, and I thought that wasn’t even possible – he chuckles and I with him.

- It’s just something for you to remember me when you’re away working.

- I always carry you with me, my sweet girl. And I always will- he whispers and then closes his eyes – I love you so much, honey.

- I love you too, big guy – I close my eyes and let sleep wash over me.

We fall asleep like this, together, holding each other in a mix of sweat, body fluids and a promise of always loving each other. I wouldn’t have it any other way.

#christopher robert evans #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans one shot #chris evans

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slashingdisneypasta · 4 years

Text

Horror / Six: The Musical AU (X Reader) || Headcanons

Explanation: So all the songs are being sun by different readers with different Henry’s (The Horror Villains of course) instead of one Henry. I think its pretty straight forward apart from that! I hope to make a second part to this where the readers actually meet up and complain about their times with their respective horror villains. This is fun XD Had the idea a couple months back and I posted it and one blog commented saying Six is their favourite musical, so this is basically for me and them haha XD

Character Included: Michael Myers, Chucky / Charles Lee Ray (And Tiffany Valentine), Bubba Sawyer, Norman Bates, Mayor Buckman (And Harper Alexandre) and Jason Voorhees.

Warnings: Murder of the readers (By respective Horror Villains and a non-explicit difficult birth in Bubba’s), birth / pregnancy, toxic / abusive relationships, sexual harrassment / maybe rape (All You Wanna Do- Buckmans), language, suggested mother / son grossness (Norman and Norma of course).

I laugh in the face of those who would subdue my mad ideas.

‘No Way’ (Reader as Catherine of Aragon): Michael Myers as Henry

My name's Catherine of Aragon Was married 24 years I'm a paragon of royalty, my loyalty is to the Vatican So if you try to dump me You won't try that again

You were in a, of course, very unequal relationship with the shape of Haddonfield. He saw you one day, was completely taken by you, and decided to let you live. He would come by and use you however he liked, kill the people you loved when they got your attention over him, etc. Like any other Michael Myers x Reader.

And, years and years later (Because it’s not like Michael finds someone every day that he gives even a bit of a shit about like he does - did, - you) he comes upon a new person. Someone he, like he was you, is drawn to.

And he tries to drop you like a hot potato.

And this infuriates you. You are not about to let go! He has ruined your life! You have no friends, no family, no life, because of him! All you have, is (regrettably) him and you are going to be his for the rest of your life. That’s what he wanted, that’s what the bastard’s going to get.

(Many, many years with him has caused your courage against him to grow spectacularly. You can say nearly anything to him)

|- ‘You must agree that, baby, in all the time I been by your side

I've never lost control’

‘I've put up with your sh- like every single day’ -|

You give him one more chance- if he can tell you one thing that you have done to him to legitimately hurt him… then you’ll leave willingly.

…

But he has nothing. And he doesn’t care.

|- ‘You got me down on my knees

Please tell me what you think I've done wrong

Been humble, been loyal, I've tried to swallow my pride all along

If you can just explain a single thing

I've done to cause you pain, I'll go

No?’ -|

|- ‘You wanna replace me? Baby, there's

N-n-n-n-n-n-no way

You made me a wife, so I'll be queen 'til the end of my life’ -|

He ends up strangling you to death when you won’t shut up.

‘Don’t Lose Your Head’ (Reader as Anne Boleyn): Chucky / Charles Lee Ray as Henry (And Tiffany as Catherine of Aragon)

I'm that Boleyn girl and I'm up next See I broke England from the church Yeah, I'm that sexy Why did I lose my head? Well, my sleeves may be green but my lipstick's red

Chucky and his filthy ass catches sight of you. Young, French and vivacious and he’s got heart eyes on the spot. He wants you, but he also doesn’t really want to lose Tiffany.

So... yeah, you end up living with them both for a while and its very awkward and a very hostile situation.

|- ‘Here we go

(You sent him kisses)

I didn't know I would move in with his misses

(What?)

Get a life

(You're living with his wife?)

Like, what was I meant to do?’ -|

You don’t like it. No one likes this. Chucky! Make up your mind!

|- ‘Three in the bed and the little one said

If you wanna be wed, make up your mind

Her or me, chum

Don't wanna be some

Girl in a threesome

Are you blind?’ -|

Tiffany is of course Catherine, and the fandom (The people of Britain for the sake of this AU) loves her (As we all know), so when you come along and insult her because Chucky is now your man (Supposedly.) and of course you two aren’t getting along with each other in the first place because of him … you get a bad name.

|- ‘Ooh, why hasn't it hit her?

He doesn't want to bang you

Somebody hang you

(Wow Anne, way to make the country hate you)

Mate, what was I meant to do?’ -|

When eventually Chucky is able to grow the balls to boot Tiffany out (My heart hurts writing this, trust me), he pulls a ‘Once a cheater, always a cheater’ kind of shit and has no loyalty to you or respect for the sanctity of your relationship, and starts having one night stands here, there and everywhere. He tries vaguely to tell you you’re being silly and that’s not true- but he has lipstick on his shirt collars and perfume smell all over him.

Its not a nice living condition.

So you, still very much being the vivacious bitch that he ‘fell in love with’, go and flirt with some other guys. Just to make him a teensy bit jealous! I mean, its not like he’ll really care, right? You just wanna spark the fire again!

|- ‘Henry's out every night on the town

Just sleeping around, like what the hell?

If that's how it's gonna be

Maybe I'll flirt with a guy or three

Just to make him jell’ -|

But he finds out as planned… and is p i s s e d. He threatens that if you do that again, he’ll fucking kill you.

You, not going to let him talk to you like that, flirt with one more man. Just to be disobedient.

|- ‘Henry finds out and he goes mental

He screams and shouts

Like so judgemental

You damn that witch

Mate, just shut up

I wouldn't be such a b-

If you could get it up’ -|

And you find out that he very much meant it when he said he would kill you.

|- ‘And now he's going 'round like off with her head (No)

(No)

Yeah, I'm pretty sure he means it’ -|

‘Heart of Stone’ (Reader as Jane Seymour): Bubba Sawyer as Henry

Jane Seymour the only one he truly loved (Rude) When my son was newly born, I died But I'm not what I seem or am I? Stick around and you'll suddenly see more

You were an intended victim of the Sawyers, but like with Stretch, Bubba crushes on you instead. The difference here, is that you see the gentleness to him compared to his brothers, and how scared he is when one of them yells at him, and all the other little signs that he’s not as vicious or evil as his first impressions might convey. You have a big, brave heart, and you realise right there that its death and cannibalisation or understanding and caring for this man and you choose to love.

|- ‘You came my way, and I knew a storm could come too.’-|

|- ‘You've got a good heart

But I know it changes

A restless tide, untameable’ -|

So you take his hands in yours, all shaky and meaty as they are, and promise him that you will never leave him. You’ll protect him. You’ll take any mess he and his family can throw at you- you’ll always be with him. Your promise.

|- ‘But I took your hand, promised I'd withstand

Any blaze you blew my way

'Cause something inside, it solidified

And I knew I'd always stay’ -|

And he believes you, of course. Its so nice to be looked at so softly, especially by someone as pretty as you.

I- ‘You can build me up, you can tear me down

You can try but I'm unbreakable

You can do your best, but I'll stand the test

You'll find that I'm unshakeable

When the fire's burnt

When the wind has blown

When the water's dried, you'll still find stone

My heart of stone’ -|

And you prove yourself. You prove over and over again that no matter what he, or the twins, or Drayton, or even Grandpa throws at you- you’ll survive and you’ll stay, and you’ll never stop looking at him in that lovely soft way.

|- ‘You say we're perfect

A perfect family’ -|

You get pregnant of course because everyone in the Sawyers / Hewitts family has a breeding kink and you can’t tell me otherwise, and the birth is of course very difficult because Drayton isn’t about to pay for hospital bills. So you’re in their home, in all the mess and the dirt and with no sort of aesthetic, and…

|- ‘Soon I'll have to go

I'll never see him grow’ -|

You don’t make it. Your babies born fine and healthy, and you bring another strong Sawyer boy to the family, but you’re gone.

‘Get Down’ (Reader as Anne of Cleves): Norman Bates as Henry

Ich bin Anne of Cleves Ja! When he saw my portrait, he was like Ja! But I didn't look as good as good as I did in my pic Funny how we all discuss that but never Henry's little-

So, one day, Norman decides its time to properly settle down (Long after his mother… ah… ‘dies’) and get a partner, and because there isn’t really anyone around where he lives to date or, even, who wouldn’t get creeped out by him and his taxidermy, he turns to online dating.

He meets you there. You own and run your own hotel in the next state over, you don’t mind his taxidermy at all, and your profile picture looks… hauntingly familiar (If you look nothing like Vera Farmiga go by the original movie- she was but a skeleton there so she really could be anyone).

|- ‘Sittin' here all alone

On a throne

In a palace that I happen to own

I'm not fake 'cause I've got acres and acres

Paid for with my own riches’ -|

And you two get along great over messages! You online date for a good year before Norman proposes you elope and come to live with him! You think you’ve known him long enough, and you trust him!

So you fly right over, and he meets you at the airport, and…

He’s disappointed.

Like, ‘sorry, nah, you don’t look enough like mama so this isn’t gonna work’. In a more fidgety, quiet, subdued kind of way though. He’s so awkward with communication that he even suggests that you doctored your profile picture.

I- ‘You, you said that I tricked ya

'Cause I, I didn't look like my profile picture’ -|

And, understandably, you’re p i s s e d, and disgusted! But ya’ll already got married over the internet, so theirs no stopping that! This is your husband. You realise you’ve made a huge mistake and go right back to your home and your hotel to get divorce papers drawn up.

You’re the queen of your own fucking castle, who needs him?

|- ‘I'm the queen of the castle

Get down, you dirty rascal

'Cause I'm the queen of the castle’ -|

You are understandably, very very mad. And you say some things to Norman about he and his mother, that… may be true… but that he certainly doesn’t appreciate.

When you finally get the papers, and you’ve been separated long enough for it to be legal, you go back to the Bates Motel to get Norman to sign them and stay over a night. You’ve calmed down enough that you’re able to have a pleasant conversation with him, and you decide that you’re too tired to take the plane back home right away so you take up Normans offer to stay in one of vacant rooms (*Cough* So you basically have the run of the place. Or they do. *Cough).

Norman is also pretty calm about the whole thing as well, like you! But… Norma, is still seething.

You don’t wake up the next morning.

‘All You Wanna Do’ (Reader as Kathrine Howard): Mayor Buckman as Henry (And Harper as Thomas)

Prick up your ears, I'm the Catherine who lost her head (Beheaded) For my promiscuity outside of wed Lock up your husbands Lock up your sons K. Howard is here and the fun's begun

Right, so, you haven’t had good luck in love throughout your life, so you decide to give up on boys entirely.

|- ‘So I decided to have a break from boys

And you'll never guess who I met’ -|

… And meet a man, not much later. A man in power; A mayor. A man who’s been married before and has a beard (So you know; He’s a man. XD No little boy.). This is of course Buckman. He calls you love, and you get a job in Pleasant Valley that keeps you comfortably busy. You feel like, finally, you’re where you belong. You feel fulfilled- no committed relationships are necessary.

|- ‘Globally revered

Although you wouldn't know it from the look of that beard

Made me a lady in waiting

Hurled me and my family up in the world

Gave me duties in court and he swears it's true

That without me, he doesn't know what he'd do

He cares so much, he calls me love’ -|

But then Buckman tells you that he cares about you. You have a connection. He doesn’t feel just ‘friendly’ feelings towards you- he wants more. And, though you are a little disappointed that your solitude didn’t last, you decide that he’s decent enough (’He is rather kind to me, and he does makes me smile a fair bit’, you try to reason with yourself that this is a good idea) and so you start to go out. Its not long before you’re married.

|- ‘So we got married Woo…’

Woo…’ -|

But being married to him isn’t easy. Not at all. You’re not use to politics; There are so many rules now, and he’s always too busy to help. And the rest for Pleasant Valley are a bit… odd. And you just don’t fit in. And this is wear Harper (Thomas) comes in.

|- ‘With Henry, it isn't easy

His temper's short, and his mates are sleazy

Except for this one courtier

He's a really nice guy, just so sincere

The royal life isn't what I planned

But Thomas is there to lend a helping hand

So sweet, makes sure that I'm okay

And we hang out loads when the King's away’ -|

And he’s so lovely and caring towards you (Never more then when Buckman leaves for business in other towns), helping you through the transition from your old life to this one. He’s a good friend, to you. And that is most definitely all he is, on your side of it. A friend. You don’t feel attractions towards him at all apart from that, and he doesn’t try to make any moves. Its wonderful!

|- ‘This guy, finally

Is what I want, the friend I need

Just mates, no chemistry

I get him and he gets me’ -|

… Until one day when Buckman has been away for a month, he tells you he cares about you. You have a connection. He doesn’t feel just ‘friendly’ feelings towards you- he wants more.

|- ‘He says we have a connection

I thought this time was different

Why did I think he'd be different?

But it's never, ever different’ -|

Lets just say one things leads to another, despite you at first turning him away and saying no. He’s so insistent, and a little scary, and you’re lonely because your husbands’ has been away so long, and… something happens that you regret and feel gross about.

|- ‘Squeeze me, don't care if you don't please me

Bite my lip and pull my hair

As you tell me, I'm the fairest of the fair

Playtime's over.’ -|

You tell Buckman when he gets home, and you watch as every bit of warmth and love in his eye disappears, just like that.

Its not long after that that his jealousy and betrayed rage takes over… and… you die with a rope around your neck and your feet swaying above the ground.

|- ‘Playtime’s over’ -|

(Alternatively, Sheriff Hoyt as Henry and Thomas as Thomas)

‘I Don’t Need Your Love’ (Reader as Catherine Parr): Jason Voorhees as Henry (Your last love was Jason when he was alive)

Five down, I'm the final wife I saw him to the end of his life I'm the survivor Catherine Parr I bet you wanna know how I got this far I said I bet you wanna know how we got this far Do you wanna know how we got this far then?

So, you’re like the leader of the ‘Slashers Ex Squad’ because you, unlike the others, survived your time with Jason. This is because Jason did, truly, love you (To an extent- not enough to let you go and live your life without him or be free). None of the others really did. Not like he did.

|- ‘Became the one who survived’ -|

Your story:

You and Jason had an adorable little 11-year-old puppy love relationship when he was alive. You were his only friend, and he had it bad for you because of it. Pamela loved you, too.

When he died you were of course devastated, and years later when you were 30 (Making him also thirty- not that you know that. You still think he’s dead at this point) you’re taken by the need to go back to Camp Crystal Lake and pay your respects to your childhood love / friend. Its just one of those nostalgic days.

When you go, and you set flowers down by the lake, Jason catches sight of you. He thinks about killing you… but then your features start to make sense to him. He recognises you, and for the first time since his mother was killed, he feels his heartbeat speed up and swell with hope.

Jason of course kidnaps you then, and keeps you hostage for himself. He missed you. He doesn’t want to survive anymore time without you. You’re all he has left!

… After you realise that this is Jason Voorhees, you quickly learn that this Jason is, of course, not the boy that you cared, and care, so deeply about. He’s done horrible things, and he is never going to stop; And frankly, deep inside… he scares you.

But its not like you can leave him! He would never let you, he’s made that clear. You are all he has, and now, he is all that you have.

|- ‘I don't have a choice

If Henry says "it's you", then it's you

No matter how I feel

It's what I have to do’ -|

So you write a letter to the old Jason (And your old life), saying goodbye, in admittance to the fact that you’ll never be able to get away from this new Jason. This is you letting go of your freedom and any preconceptions that anything will every be the same- with Jason, or otherwise.

|- ‘It's true I'll never be over you 'Cause I have built a future in my mind with you And now the hope is gone There's nothing left for me to do’

'Cause I have built a future in my mind with you

And now the hope is gone

There's nothing left for me to do’ -|

You never stop hating him for how he’s changed (How he’s taken your Jason away, and wont even attempt to go back) and how he’s stolen away your freedom.

|- ‘I'd say "Henry, yeah it's true

I'll never belong to you

'Cause I am not your toy, to enjoy till there's something new

As if I'm gonna give up my boy, my work, my dreams

To care for you"

"Ha, darling, get a clue”

But I can't say that

Not to the king’ -|

You eventually die of natural causes at, like, 60.

124 notes · View notes

stevenbasic · 4 years

Photo

I couldn’t believe my life had come to this, waiting in my car as evening began to settle over Far Horizons Medical Associates, watching for Melissa to pull out of the parking lot. We had just walked out together, after what turned out to be a long day of patients for me and...whatever it is she does...for her. A catch-up day, for sure, after a week away from work. Our chat, as we had locked up the office and both headed out to our cars, was idle and friendly. She was headed to the gym, and asked what I’d be doing tonight. I lied, of course, telling her my wife, Sheryl, had a nice dinner planned. Maybe we’d catch up on the series we’d been watching.

But here I was, watching Melissa finally pull out of the lot and disappear into traffic in her white beemer. Only then did I think it safe to turn off my car, grab my bag, surreptitiously hurry back to the building, and sneak back inside. I felt so foolish...

My practice, I guess I should explain, occupied the biggest of three decent-sized office suites on the ground floor of our building. Well, I say “our”, but it was really Sheryl’s. She had bought it as an investment property, years ago, and rented the space back to the practice. One of the other two suites had been a physical therapy office, but was now recently vacant. Sheryl hadn’t, as far as I knew, been looking actively for new tenants. The third set of offices was currently a financial advisory group; they’d been there a while.

Above the first floor, there were some smaller spaces Sheryl also rented out for little private offices. There was a patent attorney, a coin trader and a couple CPA’s, but most of them had recently been vacant, too. There was also one space that she’d converted to a basic little studio apartment that was, as of just last night, no longer vacant. It was now, in fact, where I was heading.

Furtively, I entered the main foyer space of the building through the glass doors from outside, hoping beyond hope that I hadn’t been seen. While the now-locked entrance to FHMA was directly on my right, those to the other two suites on the opposite wall, I headed to an unmarked door in the far corner, which led to a stark, cement stairway, which went up to the second floor hallway, a utilitarian passage which itself led me to…

...home.

I struggled a bit with the key but finally got the door opened, switched on the fluorescent overhead light, and sighed. I was greeted with several small stacks of boxes, an old couch, and the silence of bare white walls. At least it smelled okay.

The fight, last night, was a bad one. I’d known, driving home from the airport, that Sheryl would be waiting for me at home. I realized, of course, even when I was down south at the conference with Melissa, that a full week away was too much. The extra few days at the end to relax was irresponsible, escapist, just a chance to avoid the problems I had up here in my real life - the tensions at home, in my marriage. The loss of respect I’d been feeling at work. I knew in the end it was just going to make them all worse, exacerbating the already festering issues. Now it was coming to a head…

...and the photos didn’t help.

Sheryl had, I immediately saw as I had stepped in the front door, a manilla folder full of them. Possibly two, in fact.

“Hi honey,” she said plainly, as I struggled my bag into the living room, dropping it in the arched doorway, “welcome back.”

Full-page photographs, mostly of Melissa posed in various bikinis, lay strewn across our coffee table, spilled from the folder labeled “phone”, in black sharpie. I recognized them all: the white bikini, the burgundy, the rainbow. There were also a few more photos, Melissa in a beach dress, Melissa laughing, a selfie of the two of us together. I recognized those too. I recognized all these pictures, of course, because I had taken them.

“Hey uh...what’s all this..?” I asked, dumbly, as my heart began to race. Oh my god, what had she done?? I knew - now, at least - that whatever pictures I took with my phone automatically got shared with Sheryl, that she could see them. I’d kicked myself for my naivete multiple times upside-down and sideways since she’d explained that to me, having seen all the damning modeling pics I’d taken for Melissa at the beach last Wednesday. This was obviously a folder full of them. What was in the other?

“I don’t know, honey. Why don’t you tell me..?” Sheryl answered.

I, of course, was totally awkward, inept and hapless in my defense. How does one explain hundreds of bikini shots of one’s Uber-buxom Office Manager on one’s phone to one’s wife? Or the photo Melissa took of me, with lipstick on my forehead? How does one argue one’s point when one’s opponent is a high-powered corporate attorney who has prepared her case and stacked her deck against one? One does it...poorly.

I tried, I really did, to assuage Sheryl, to convince her that nothing happened during our trip, between me and Melissa. Nothing did!! Really!! But I knew my heart was not in it, and - if I was being honest - throughout the last two months since I’d hired Melissa I’d been effectively unfaithful to Sheryl, at least in spirit. I did my best, though, to plead my case and she watched me do it, sitting there on the couch in what she’d call her “warrior princess” look. Hair, clothes and makeup she’d use when she knew her adversary was a male easily swayed by such an appearance...one such as myself. Sheryl was a beautiful woman, and she knew it. She knew the warpaint, the big fluffy blond hair and the tight dress showing off her healthy implants would give her power in this exchange, tip the scales even further in her favor.

But her coup-de-grace was the pictures. She had printed them, of course, to humiliate me. Nice and big, glossy, they were certainly all that, for sure. But, of course, they’d also be pretty useful to her in court, since she’d have to expect I’d delete them from my phone...which I’d done (after saving them al elsewherel…) Nonetheless, here was her proof.

She had let me talk, and then she went on her tirade. It actually started calmly enough.

“Do you realize how weak you look, how pathetic,” she began, coolly, “spending your time with her? This...girl?”

“M-Melissa’s n-not just a ‘girl’...” I retorted, beginning to defend myself, trying to match Sheryl’s composure, but feeling the heat in my face already and hearing the stumble in my speech, “this was for work, she’s an employee, our office manager, a...a…”

“A what? A G-cup?” she snapped

she’s actually an H-cup…I thought to myself, in a silent flush of shame.

Sheryl knew, of course, my history, my weakness for the young and buxom. It had nearly ended our marriage in the past, several times. “At first, when you first hired her, I was more disappointed in you than angry,” she continued, regaining her poise, “knowing why you’d done it, that you were basically helpless. I was disappointed that you, after all these years, were still so weak-willed and stupid. I do suppose it's no picnic having that huge penis of yours. It’s honestly the only outstanding thing about you, but it must be a burden. It sort of overwhelms your brain, doesn’t it? Make you make these stupid decisions?”

This was so humiliating. “Sheryl, c’mon..”

“No, really,” she said, calmly, “Sometimes I think I shouldn't blame you for being a slave to that...thing. You’re just a man, and your erection is the biggest part about you. But you’re also my husband. You made a commitment, and I’ve worked so hard on this marriage. So, yes, back then, when you hired her, I was disappointed...but I wasn’t angry.”

Oh my god I felt like a child being scolded, but in my disgrace I held my tongue.

“But now,” she continued, the heat beginning to build in her voice, “seeing all those pictures, seeing her tits all over you phone, seeing the two of you together, now I’m angry…”

“Sh-Sheryl, listen, I-“ I tried, stepping towards where she sat.

“Is that really what you want?” she asked, voice breaking for the first time, “To be with someone like her? Someone young and dumb? It is, isn’t it? You like that she’s big and young and dumb, that she’s soft and pretty and that she adores you...”

I stepped in again. “n-no, honey, wait…”

“Don’t ‘honey’ me…” she bit, “not after you hired not just her, but a whole harem of them. Because that’s what you’re doing, isn’t it? Building yourself a harem of young, dumb, soft pretty things?”

“Sheryl, pleas-“

“Be quiet,” she commanded, suddenly standing up from the couch.

I gasped, and visibly took a step back. She was surprisingly, impressively tall in her office stilettos, and I couldn't hide my shock. If she noticed, she said nothing, just narrowed her eyes for a moment and pressed on. “You should just go be with your big-boobie office manager, your new little bunnies, if that’s what you want. Let them take you and coddle you, tell you it's all okay. Let them kiss away all the boo-boos you got from your big, mean wife.”

She took a step towards me; I took a step back. A smile curled on her face as she watched my reaction.

“Oh, yes. Don't think I don't know,” she continued, her voice chilling again, “don't think that I don't know what you did with Rina, your secret little fantasies. I know what you like, they all know what you like. Rina told them at the office four years ago and it’s going to follow you for the rest of your life.”

Sheryl stepped right up to me; we were eye-to-eye. wh-what the…?? She watched the shivers run through me as I realized I was not just dealing with someone who could intellectually and emotionally dwarf me, but someone who could also possibly physically harm me as well.

“Sheryl, h-hold on…wh-what Rina and I did, it-“

Her smile frightened me, and her voice changed. “Awwwww,” she cooed, in baby-talk, her eyes flashing as she took to releasing the years of pent-up resentment, “All that baby-play, what you did with Rina, is that what you want, sweetie-pie?”

Suddenly unable to face her, I turned away, stepped away. I felt her following behind.

“You miss it, hmm? You want it again, right, baby?” she persisted, hammering away at me from behind in that babydoll voice, “But now you want ‘Melissssy’ to be your mommy now, don’t you?? Yes...yes you do!”

“Sheryl, s-stop..!”

“Oh, I'm sorry..! Is that emasculating??” she chided, “Am I emasculating you? Telling you that I know, that everybody knows, that what you really want is to be an infant?? That you may look like a big strong man - or, whatever you are, these days - but inside you’re nothing but a child. A toddler. A little needy baby that just wants its mommy.”

“Oh my god Sheryl, n-no, please…”

From behind she took my shoulder and, forcefully, spun me around to face her. “You look at me,” she ordered, “Look at me when I’m talking to you, you understand?”

Meekly, I nodded. “y-y-yes…” I answered. .

She sneered at me. “Jesus. Face it, honey, you’re an infant already,” she told me, her eyes boring into mine as my gaze dropped; she allowed it, as I was looking at her chest. “Think about it: women own your business, women own your house, women organize and keep your little practice running,” she said, laying bare all my deepest truths, opening the wound that has festered for years. All I could do was stand there and take it, eyes cast downward. “Women figure out what you’re going to eat, what you’re going to wear. And you love it, how we infantilize you, you don’t fight it at all,” she continued, “You all do, you men, these days. You love it. It’s everywhere. Men are becoming like little babies, more helpless every day, while women are working harder, becoming their big, competent mommies, taking care of everything, letting you cling to us just to make it through life. It’s happening, you’ve seen it...”

She looked at me, pausing in her diatribe, and considered. She had me sufficiently cowed, obsequiously speechless; her voice dropped.

“But you...you...you’ve been this way all along. That’s what makes you different,” she said, half-cryptic, “That’s why they want you.”

“wh-what do you m-mean?“ I asked, a strange fear gripping me, a primal instinct, making me find my tongue and raise my eyes to her.

She pressed on like she didn’t hear me.

“In some ways I guess I can't blame you,” she continued, “You're a beta male, surrounded by alpha females...”

Oh my god, this? Sheryl, too??

“...Me, Melissa, all the rest, all of us alphas,” she stated, as if it was plain as day, “It’s the hierarchy of mankind...or in your case womankind. There's no way you can avoid it.”

“wh-where is this coming from??” I suddenly blurted, the fear and confusion in me bubbling up finally in a defensive yawp, “Is this from those meetings you’ve been going to? I don’t know if I want you going to them any more..!”

holy shit what did I just say..???

“WHAT?!?” she screamed, her hands suddenly on my chest, pushing me with surprising force backwards. I stumbled, my knees catching the overstuffed chair behind me. I fell backwards into it, and sat frozen, stunned, gaping up at her in shock and fright. My heart raced.

She looked down at me, eyes wide. She seemed, for the moment, surprised herself, that she was capable of what she just did...and at how easy it was.

She took a step towards me; I recoiled below as she seethed.

“Y’know what I wish? Hm?!?” she glared down at me, imperiously, over her nose and full chest as her anger flashed again, “I hope that someday, someday soon...I hope you get exactly what you want. I hope you get a woman that really emasculates you. That just dwarfs you, with all that she is. A woman that makes you feel tiny, like the weak little man you really are.”

I watched as the anger of the last seven years all came to bear above me, in her, as she began to rage.

“Oh god!” she cried, “I hope someday you get what you really want! I hope you get crushed between the tits of a huge, strong woman!! I hope you get shrunk to the size of a tiny little bug by her, I do, and I hope I get to watch!”

Jesus christ what is she saying?!? Where did she get this?!? And why - oh god no - am I getting..? I can’t let her see...

In her fury, she continued, her fists balled. “Oh god I’d like to see that, I'd like to see you squashed,” she spit, “I'd crush you myself, if I could. I'd crush you under my big, high heel.”

I moaned, a pitiful wail. She looked at me, aghast.

“Oh god this is turning you on right now, isn’t it?!?” she fumed, suddenly incredulous, “Me yelling at you? Me humiliating you??” She leaned over, brought her face so close to mine. I backed away, retreating the inches I could. Her fists still balled, she all but snarled: “Do you get aroused when a strong woman gets angry at you?” She watched me trembling, and dropped her voice as she began to speak more slowly. “Oh my god you do. You get off on being...belittled,” she said, “Being made to feel small by the anger of a woman. And you love that, you love feeling small, don’t you..?”

She considered me, thought for a moment, ignoring the near-wordless denials I was trying to form. “Well, then, let me help you out, if you want to feel small,” she said and then, without another word, she grabbed me through my pants,

“Sh-Sheryl, no..!” I sobbed, weakly moving to grab her wrist. She slapped me away, her hand now forcefully half-encircling my turgid girth through my khakis.

She squeezed, then she unleashed.

“Would it make you feel small if I told you I have more than fifty times the money that you do?? Hm?” she sneered, inches from my face, pressing my outsized cock down into my thigh, feeling it harden with her anger, under her abuse, “That with my new jobs I made more last week than you made in a year. You didn’t know that, did you?? No - I do all our banking, I do all our finances. You wouldn’t know. You let me take care of everything. I own this house, I own the practice.” She squeezed my shaft, roughly, making me spasm, my whole body tense towards her. “You’ve been basically nothing but an employee of mine these past thirteen years. An employee that I let live under my roof, eat my food…”

Insistently, she began to stroke my cock through my pants, slowly, with a strong grip and commanding authority. “How does it feel to be a kept man, hm?” she asked, watching my eyes flutter helplessly in the newly lit blaze of arousal to which she had me held, mercilessly working me now, “I know you. You like people to think that I stay with you because you’re a rich doctor, that you’re a successful man. But it’s really quite the opposite, isn’t it? You stay with me because you’d be nothing without me. I own your house, I own your car. I’m your fucking boss. You have barely anything in savings and what you do have I would totally consume with our pre-nup”

My voice began to bubble up, to tremble. “w-w-why…?” was all I could manage, not even knowing what I was asking.

”Why? Why do I stay with you?!? Oh my god I ask myself that all the time, all these years, through all the affairs and the mistakes and the absolute pitiful way you run your life.” My question, my audacity to speak, had only caused her to redouble her efforts; she squeezed me again, pumped me harder. “Why do I stay with you?? I don’t know- maybe because I loved you, once? Maybe because I felt, somehow, that someday you’d change? Or maybe because...maybe because I started to like it. Maybe I started to like the feeling of making more than my husband, of watching him get smaller and smaller to me, inside our home, as I grew bigger and bigger outside it, wealthier and wealthier, more and more successful as he slowly turned into this...this...this little worm, writhing under me, clinging to me. God!!!” she exclaimed, suddenly rising up a bit, putting her free hand on my shoulder, “Do you see what you’ve done to me?!? What you’ve made me become?!?”

Whether on purpose or not, she’d positioned her upper body right in front of my face, forcing me to stare at her chest as she worked my cock. I can see her bra, she’s swelling out of it, modest implants under taut flesh. Implants she got for me, years ago. So she could...do this, more easily. And it worked, it fucking worked…

I groaned again. I was already so close...so close to...to coming...oh god no, not in…not in my pants...p-please Sheryl...

“But, yes. Part of me liked the idea of owning you,” she mused, allowing me to just gape at her cleavage, knowing I was close, “Of having you as a kept man. But now...now...it’s done. I’ve decided - I don’t want to keep you any more. They can have you...”

She reached behind herself, grabbed something off the coffee table, her left hand never leaving my lap.

She held it right in front of me, right before my eyes, a picture...

“They can have you…”

With a grunt, a lurch that buckled me forward in my seat, I came under her hand, I came in my pants, I came in the most shameful way I could imagine. I came in my pants under my wife’s strong hand as she kicked me out of the house and gave me to Melissa’s tits

“Unh, unh, unh…” I whined, allowing myself only the briefest of moments to ogle the photo, and then casting my eyes down, clamping them shut in my vileness. My cock, so huge, bucked and jerked in the hips of my khakis, soaking them - I felt that already, its hot brine, gooping onto my thigh, making a mess.

“There you go,” Sheryl said, her hand still squeezing my firm spongy shaft, “get it all out…”

I groaned, I groaned as I felt Sheryl move, putting down the photo so she could support me with her right hand to my shoulder. Otherwise, I would have folded forward, right into her

She squeezed me, she milked me, she urged and pulled everything she could from my cock, into my pants, and as my eyes began to open I saw the spectacle, the shameful stain darkening my pant-leg, nearly the entire thing from mid-thigh down to my knee.

”a-are you divorcing me?” I peeped, finally, the first words I could manage as my climax faded, my cock pulsing weakly now. My meekly resigned question sounded fully like a demission, obsequious surrender to whatever she wanted.

“No, I’m not divorcing you,” she replied, with austere plainness, “The world would eat you alive, and I’m not ready for that yet.” She watched the monstrosity of my erection fading, under her hand. “But I am kicking you out of my house.”

Where will I go??? I thought, with passive acceptance, even as the last pulses of climax had yet to fade. Images of sleeping in my car, soaked in my own filth, crept through my skull.

As if reading my mind (omigod can they all do that??) Sheryl spoke up. “Don’t worry, you’re not going to be homeless,” she said, still tenderly massaging the now softening mush of my spent manhood, squishing it wetly into my leg, “But...you do need to be put in your place. So, I have a place for you. It’s perfect. Nice and small.”

The apartment, at the office, hers, she explained, as I watched her left hand tend to my afterspasms. I’d live there, I’d live in the little apartment she kept as a side thought, a pittance of her charity. I knew I really had no other option, and hung my head. It proved how dependent I was on her; I’d have a place to live only on account of her good graces. It was just something else she could lord over me, show me how small I was.

“Now, get up. Get up,” she instructed, finally peeling her hand off me, leaving me sticky and foul as she sat back, “Get up and leave. I’ve packed your bags, your things. They're all there already.” She stood, over me, seeing me still trembling from my trauma. “Just go, here’s a key-“ she said, fishing into her top and pulling a key from her bra.

“Sh-Sheryl…?”

Dismissively, she tossed it at me. “Go lose yourself in her tits for all I care.” It bounced off my chest, slid down onto the chair.

Clumsily, I floundered at finding the key in the cushion, as all the while Sheryl straightened her skirt, smoothed her hair. “n-no, I’m going to show you,” I began, finally gathering the key, finally starting to stand, rising wobbly to my feet, “I’m n-not that weak. I’m going to prove myself to you...”

”Sure you will,” she said, not even looking at me at this point, “now get out.”

“Sheryl, c’mon…”

“Get. Out.” Her eyes were on me again, cold and hard. She pointed at the door.

At the end, the end of my time in my home of seven years, I was walking towards the front door when my wife said one last thing to me. “Wait…” she said, causing me to pause, look back.

“Turn around…” she said, regarding me with new, discriminating eyes, “...are you shorter?”

==============

Thanks to TopographicSociety and tumblr reader nycslave for inspirations

#Growing Into the Job

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huihuiheart · 4 years

Text

New Home - Yoon Jeonghan Fluff

Just a little birthday gift for Shay @cheonsajeonghan1004 it’s not too much, so hopefully among your celebrations and college work today you’ll have time to indulge in this.(Let’s be real you make time for Jeonghan.)Also yes there are some points that you’ll get and yes they are pointed at how you treat yourself even though you shouldn’t, but maybe you’ll listen in this format for a change? Anyways it’s been like 9 years since we met, so you’re basically stuck with me at this point. I’ll be nice this year though and not make it a two part where you have to pick between Taemin and Jeonghan again. I was also nice enough not to use his Halloween or red hair pics against you again! Love you little sis! Enjoy your day!!!!

Word Count: 2,255

So yes everyone it is a little short. If you read my message to my friend you’ll know why. It is intentional, it’s so it’s hopefully short enough to be read and enjoyed despite her busy schedule!

Jeonghan and you had been dating for a few years now. Having met one summer and thinking that would be all it was a short summer fling. Things going fast and perfect and then ending all of a sudden in a flurry of empty promises, fleeting kisses, and goodbyes before moving on with your lives away from each other. Only in your case the promises had proved to be anything but empty and one sided, you two proving to withstand the test of time and the toll it took on your long-distance relationship.

Yet, you both were going strong as you had been that short sweet summer long ago. Only getting to catch up during short breaks and vacations. Circumstances could change very soon though as you had applied to go to a college near where he lived. Which if you got accepted meant you could see each other a lot more often. Your friend had applied too, agreeing to help you settle in someplace entirely new without having to rely solely on Jeonghan for familiarity, something she knew you'd refuse to do anyways considering you were far too mindful of his also busy schedule not wanting to burden him. Which is why it surprised you that he called the day that you got an email back from the college that you had applied to.

"So were you just not going to tell me that you got a response? I've been waiting to know what is happening." Jeonghan's voice flows into your ear and it's much more excited than you are in this moment feeling like nerves are eating you from the inside out at the prospect of not getting accepted.

"How did you find out I got a response?" You inquired gnawing lightly on your bottom lip as you stated at the unopened email.

"How do you think? Y/F/N knew you weren't going to tell me even though I told you I wanted to know when you got a response." Jeonghan gives you the same answer as any other time he found out about something you weren't going to burden him with. Your best friend knowing how much he helped you through things and spilling anything she knew you'd refuse to tell him out of love.

"You have practice I didn't want to disturb you or anything." You whined softly trying to seem like the good guy in this scenario though you knew Jeonghan would win in the end. He always did.

"Yeah and you also always say I need to take more breaks and rest. So give me an excuse to. Now I'm going to hang up and get some water. But be ready cause I'm going to face time you in like five minutes and then we'll open it alright?" Jeonghan is asking, but you know he'll refuse to take anything other than agreement as an acceptable answer.

You were both stubborn, yet Jeonghan knew how to soften you up enough to get what he wanted 90% of the time. True to his word roughly five minutes later you get an incoming call from him on facetime.

You answered with a soft sigh and pout, "Hannie when I said I wanted you to take breaks and relax this isn't what I meant and you know it."

"Okay fine, but how can I relax when I'm wondering what's going on with my love?" Jeonghan counters quickly causing you to shake your head a little bit, but give in anyways.

"Now open it up and tell me what they said. We'll figure it out either way." Jeonghan assures as your cursor hovers over the daunting email. Biting your lip you click on it, eyes skimming the page before they widen suddenly.

"I got in!!!! Hannie I got in!! I'm going to be near you as soon as school starts." You practically launch out of your seat at screaming the news as Jeonghan's ecstatic laugh comes from your phone.

"See I told you there was nothing to worry about." Jeonghan rolls his eyes playfully. Though his words only seem to set more worries in.

"Wait but what if Y/F/N didn't get in? We're supposed to be moving together. And like what if we can't find a place. Hannie there's so much to do." You whimper cowering back into your seat again.

“Easy baby, just breathe. How about you line up some options or something and see what happened with Y/F/N. I’ll get you guys a place to stay at a hotel so you can look at the options before deciding.” Jeonghan offers a practical solution in light of your panicking, which was another pretty regular thing between the two of you.

“Okay, okay, you need to actually rest and I’ll call her right now to see if she heard anything yet.” You easily agree with a soft nod, “I love you and I’m really excited to be close to you, even if my nerves make it seem like otherwise is true.”

“Love you too babygirl, now go call Y/F/N. I wanna know if my girlfriend and little sister both got in.” Jeonghan giggles one last time over the phone before you’re both hanging up to go about your very different daily lives.You’d always felt he’d done far far too much and that you did barely anything, wrongfully beating yourself up for things that were out of your control and that weren’t yours to take on. No one ever felt that was the case though, all agreeing that you did plenty. They were ecstatic that you were able to do something that you wanted to though and that it was building you up and encouraging you.

“So did you get in too? Please tell me I’m not going alone.” You whined over the phone to your friend, your lip being abused between your teeth.

“I mean you weren’t going to be alone either way since you have Jeonghan.” Your friend chuckles over the phone dragging out her answer just to mess with you a little bit, “But I kinda got in.”

“What do you mean you kinda got in?” You counter ready to lose your mind and go off on your friend a bit for messing with you.

“I was accepted into one of their online programs. So I can do that from anywhere, if I’m close by though I can use the campus perks.” Your friend explains laughing lightly as she knows she barely dodged your attack.

“So does that mean you’re going to come with me then?” A hopeful quirk in your tone as you continue to interrogate your friend.

“Boo my bags were packed two weeks ago, of course I’m coming. I knew they wouldn’t say no to us. Who would?” Your friend isn’t known to be a confident person, but she had her moments and she used them to oftentimes make you feel more comfortable.

“Honestly, I would have said no to us.” You can practically see her rolling her eyes at your playful tone.

“Whatever, I’m on my way over to help you pack right now.”

You two had managed to get a flight booked for two weeks out, which seemed a reasonable amount of time to get things packed up and ready to move. Jeonghan insisting that you both make it easier on yourselves and ship some of your things to his place instead of trying to take EVERYTHING with you on the flight. Not that you both were bringing a ton of things, both ready for a fresh start. That being said you both had sent some things to Jeonghan to make travelling easier. Your boyfriend sending you a playlist made specifically for your time spent travelling. Something you’d likely have to reprimand him for spending so much time on once you did learn how long it took him to make. Of course, that didn’t stop a stupid smile from filling your entire face as you listened to the whole thing.

When you landed you followed your friend’s lead through the airport, not the most experienced traveler personally and her always seeming to know exactly where to go. Going down an escalator to get to baggage claim she snickered under her breath.

“What’s so funny all of a sudden?” You question brows furrowed as you watch your friend.

“Someone just seems a little eager is all.” She responds nodding her head to below you with a smile. Following her gaze you see Jeonghan with a silly grin that could match yours his eyes lighting up as he finally sees you.

Your friend is a few steps below you, getting off first and quickly giving Jeonghan a passing hug before moving to see which area of baggage claim is for your flight and also just giving you and Jeonghan room. Which was probably a great idea considering Jeonghan practically lunged at you once you stepped off, pulling you into a tight hug and spinning you around a little.

“You’re finally here!” Jeonghan practically squeals, “Come on I’ll help you both get your things and take you to the hotel and then we’ll get some food, you two are probably hungry after travelling.”

“Yay for third wheeling!” Your friend sarcastically cheers earning her a playful shove from you.

“We aren’t that bad and you know it.” You laugh shaking your head at her.

“Besides you shouldn’t have helped set us up that summer if you weren’t ready to put up with us.” Jeonghan adds and your friend fakes offense at being tag teamed by you both. “So do you guys have anything planned for tomorrow?”

“Well I think we were planning on checking out the dorms and two apartments as options for us. But I think we were wrapping up about 2ish, we were gonna grab some lunch between places most likely.” You tell Jeonghan who nods leaving your side only for a second to help your friend with the suitcase that was trying to get away from her on the conveyor belt.

“Sounds good any options if those don’t work out?” Jeonghan asks putting the suitcase down besides your friend to grab one he recognized as yours.

“Not really it was hard to find stuff in our budget in a place with so many other students.” Your friend admits with a soft sigh, “But hey we’re here now we’ll figure it out.”

Jeonghan hums his expression one he makes when he gets lost in thought, but you’ll question it later you think to yourself as he gets you two to your hotel, where your friend she’d rather clean up and rest to let you two catch up than be stuck third wheeling, as much as she loved you two. Jeonghan being a bit protective of her like a little sister not buying it so easily worried she wouldn’t eat, but he decides to compromise ordering some food to the room to make sure she does eat before you two go out for your own food.

“Now that it’s just us do you want to tell me what’s on your mind?” Your voice is soft not pushy, but opening the door for him if he’d like to share.

“Hm it was that obvious huh?” Jeonghan chuckles, but his small smile tells you that you shouldn’t be too worried about whatever was on his mind.

“Well to me it was at least.” You nod resting your chin in your palm as you return his smile.

“I was just thinking that I know you two. You wouldn’t do well at the dorms...either of you with so many new people. And you two both like space in places to work on art and such, so it probably won’t be easy to find an apartment you both think works for you.” Jeonghan explains and you nod again humming in understanding.

“We know, we’re ready to make some sacrifices.” You tell him honestly.

“I know you both are, but like....what if you didn’t have to?” Jeonghan starts to bite his lip now, exhibiting some of his nervous habits which confuses you a tad.

“Did you have something in mind Hannie?” You inquire with furrowed brows as Jeonghan nods.

“I remembered something that would probably work for Y/F/N....for you. What if....I mean I’d like for you to.....I want you to move in with me.” Jeonghan finally stutters out his cheeks flaring up with a pink tint. “Unless you don’t want to of course, but like it’s spacious and we’ll be able to see each other more then. Plus, my place is pet friendly so we could get a puppy like you wanted.”

You giggle and lean over to give him a small kiss to stop his rambling, “I’d love to move in with you Hannie! Besides you already insisted I send like half my stuff there anyways.”

Your teasing made him blush a little more, but he laughed along with you. Both of you laughing and enjoying dinner together, catching up and making little plans for moving and what to do afterwards.

“Just one more question though...what did you think of for Y/F/N?”You curiously ask raising a brow, which makes Jeonghan chuckle and smirk a little.

“Oh~ About that. Jun’s been looking for a roommate and I’m pretty sure I can get her on board with pictures of the apartment without sharing that little detail. After all we do kinda owe her for all that teasing she did us over that summer.” Jeonghan “innocently” reasons and you laugh mirroring his smirk.

“That sounds like trouble....I love it!”

#seventeen imagine #seventeen jeonghan #seventeen jeonghan imagine #seventeen fluff #yoon jeonghan fluff #jeonghan fluff #seventeen jeonghan fluff

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pers-books · 3 years

Note

I know you said you don't want to rub our noses in it that you wrote so much this year (tho' as a Berena fan, I'm deeply grateful that you did!), but could you maybe pick your fave ten or just your fave five fics you wrote this year and talk a bit about them. (Like where the idea for it came from?) Ta lovely.

Thanks for the Ask, Anon.

I shall try to pick my fave fics that I wrote this year. They’re in no particular order:

Serena's Coffeeshop (G, 7,920 words). Part of the infamous Mashed Up Tropes fic series, written for @doctorjameswatson‘s prompts of 10: Airport/Travel and 53: Mutual Pining. It’s an AU: Bernie's an ex-military pilot now flying for a civilian airline and Serena runs an indie coffeeshop in the airport. Bernie comes in once a week after a flight from Krakow to get coffee and a chocolate croissant and they pine like a fucking forest before finally getting together. Favourite comment: i am loving all your 'mashed up tropes' fics and really should have commented on them but, i had to come back to this one and say that it has one of my absolute favourite summary lines ever "and they pine like a fucking forest before finally getting together." - iconic! (sazmojo3) Inspiration: There’s Warehouse 13 (Bering and Wells fic) by @apparitionism where Myka Bering’s a pilot and Helena Wells works in a bar.

The Name's Wolfe, Berenice Wolfe: 007, Licensed to Thrill (E, 3,200 words) An AU where Bernie Wolfe is 007 and Serena Campbell is Head of Station in Jamaica. One of my previous fandoms was the Craig!Bond and Dench!M James Bond movies (I shipped the hell out of those two!) so this was a fun fusion of an old fandom and a new one. Favourite comment: Asdghhdsfghfsfghdg...That has to be enough for now. Will return for a more coherent comment. (@batnbreakfast) Inspiration: Wow, I can’t actually remember! (Sorry!)

Two to Tango (G, 1000 words) Canon divergence: Bernie and Serena tango on a train. I just had so much fun writing this and it’s always fun to write Outsider PoV. Favourite comment: Imagine my suprise when I woke up and found an email telling Pers had written a fic for me (and others). Imagine my delight when I found that this fic was inspired by a pic that made us all stop and stare.*utter glee*Thank you Pers! This is lovely and soft and sexy and exactly what I needed. :* (@rauzadian) Inspiration: A lovely photo of two women dancing together on a train. It was reblogged by many of my Berena mutuals. (Photo’s on the original Tumblr post.)

It's not a date - it's just dinner at a fancy restaurant (E, 9,100 words) S18 Canon Divergence: Robbie Medcalf has let Serena Campbell down one too many times and Bernie Wolfe, AAU's Knight in Shining Armour, rides to the rescue. Favourite comment: Ahhhhhh thank you so much, this is the best fill for this prompt ever! Bernie is absolutely leagues better than Robbie, I'm glad my boy Jason knows how it is! (Sevtacular aka @slightlyintimidating) Inspiration: Well, who doesn’t picture Bernie as Serena’s Knight in Shining Armour? And Robbie’s a bit dickish, so...

The Long Road to Happiness (M, 8140 words) AU: Bernie Wolfe and Serena Campbell were child actors together. Favourite comment: Okay I have now read this and it may be my new favourite fic of yours. Strike that, it may well be one of my favourite fics of this whole entire pairing. It's beautiful. Serena calling Bernie a goose as a pet name is all kinds of adorable. The DI Jill Raymond spinoff show is something I definitely wish the BBC would commission. And the plot is more than I ever could have hoped. It's got that delicious angst with a happy ending that I love so much. Thank you for writing it. (Sevtacular aka @slightlyintimidating) Inspiration: I found an old post of Sev’s that featured some Berena prompts and the Bitch Muse leapt on this one, as is her wont.

The Softness of the Wolfe, or Five Times Bernie Wolfe was Soft (T, 3,831 words) Slight canon divergence: 5 times Bernie Wolfe was soft and Serena didn't expect it. Favourite comment: I love that you managed to show the soft side of Bernie, without implying that it makes her weak in any way. That because she loves and feels safe with Serena, that bit by bit she starts to show another side of herself. That there is character growth in abundance. :) (@lapalfruity) Inspiration: Someone, and I'm afraid I've completely forgotten who, recently talked about Bernie not always being the tough Big Macho Army Medic, and apparently the idea lodged in my brain.

Jason Haynes: Matchmaker (E, 17,560 words) Canon Divergent: Jason plays matchmaker between his Aunty Serena and his friend Bernie Wolfe. Favourite comment: This was everything I’d hoped for. The thought of Bernie in fatigues? AND Bernie in a swimsuit? You spoil us. And this: “Serena can only nod mutely before Bernie cups her cheek in her right hand and brings their faces closer together, and then that mouth is upon her own, gloriously hot and powerful, but not overpowering. Kissing her as if she’ll die without Serena’s kisses.” So soft and sweetly romantic and also super hot!! (@corvidden) Inspiration: I have developed a taste for the canon divergent ways I can bring Bernie and Serena together, and Jason being responsible at least once was just too irresistible.

An Unexpected Christmas (M, 11,000 words) Canon Divergence: Bernie Wolfe's a locum who usually works on Keller, but Hanssen sends her to AAU to cover Serena Campbell's annual Christmas leave. Favourite comment: Oh my, yet again you've managed to warm my cold, dead heart!!! Honestly, thank you SO MUCH for continuing to write for this fandom. A new fic from you is guaranteed to bring a smile, and usually a fair few feels too. Simply loved this fic, too many things to comment on individually - grinning like a loon has temporarily shut down my higher brain function, but there wasn't a single sentence of it that I didn't adore. You rock! (Alielp) Inspiration: Well, I offered to write something for @fortytworedvines and she asked for 'something fluffy involving Serena raising her eyebrow' - and the Bitch Muse just ran away with me, resulting in 48 hours of Christmas fluff.

Stocking Filler 4 (G, 15000 words) Different First Meeting AU: Serena takes a tumble in the snow. Luckily, a certain Army Medic is there to assist. Favourite comment: Oh, this has everything! Soft Bernie! Bernie with a kitten! Bernie looking after Serena! Romantic snowy cottage in the middle of nowhere. Amazing! (@corvidden) Inspiration: Another one I wrote for @fortytworedvines, who wanted something for the Stocking Filler prompt 'icy conditions' and the bloody Bitch Muse galloped away with this one. It's pretty plotless and mostly Christmas fluff, with a little light angst and hurt/comfort thrown in.

McKinnie and Wolfe: Monster Hunters (T, 6000 words) AU: Bernie Wolfe is a monster hunter. Serena McKinnie becomes her companion in arms. (The second of two fics I wrote for this years Holby Halloween Monster Mash event.) Favourite comment: Bernie and Serena monster hunting? YES! Bernie with her shirt sleeves rolled up? YES! Obliviously snuggling in a shared bed? ALSO YES! This is great! (@corvidden) Inspiration: My Halloween read was the short story collection Challoner, Murray & Balfour: Monster Hunters at Law by Juliet McKenna. I’ve been meaning to write student aged Berena for a while, and I can hardly ever resist a period setting, so here we go.

I could’ve added more to this list, but I’m gonna quit there before anyone dies of boredom.

#A Nonymouse #Ask and you shall receive - possibly!#Berena #Bernie Wolfe x Serena Campbell #Fanfic #End of the Year Fic Wrap Up #My Writing #Holby City

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izzy-b-hands · 4 years

Text

Denim

Ok, that Bri fic as I mentioned earlier, inspired by these pics.

Synopsis: Brian/Trans M Reader. Brian is freshly home from tour, and dressed to impress. Or at least, he is to you, even if he didn’t actually have that as his intention.

TW: This is just...so NSFW. That’s p much it. I tossed my usual pinch of Emotions in there too, but mostly smut.

My love to all who read/like/reblog!

"You did not say you'd be dressed like that," you smirked. "This is just unfair."

Brian looked down at his outfit. "Jeans, a t-shirt, and a leather jacket are scandalous now? Pray tell, when did that happen?"

"Now," you grinned, yanking him into the house. "Jesus fucking christ, the jeans alone, Bri-"

"Are...jeans?" He laughed as he tossed his luggage to the floor so he could get both hands on your hips, and kicked off his shoes. "Is this all because I'm home? Or is it only the apparently all-magical jeans?"

"Both," you smiled. "I missed you. And those jeans are so tight, I think you disclose your state of circumcision or lack thereof without having to take them off."

Brian blushed. "Fuck, I shouldn't have wo-"

"Don't you dare say that," you interrupted, pulling him gently down for a kiss. "You should wear them more often, is what you should do!"

"I probably traumatized someone, passing them in the airport!"

"I'm sure everyone you were around is fine," you reassured him, half-distracted as you started to yank off your clothes, letting them fall wherever, until you were down to your pants alone.

He started to follow suit, but only got as far as his coat and shirt off before you stopped him.

"No. Let's make it a challenge. I bet I can make you come without you even having to so much as unbutton or unzip those."

He smiled, and pulled you by the hand to the couch. "Hell of a welcome home surprise. What do I win?"

"If you manage to somehow hold out," you said, settling beside him on the couch, fighting the urge to climb in his lap right away, and settling for tracing your hand on his chest instead, fingers lingering down at his happy trail. "Oh, I don't know. I can't think straight with you in those, frankly. What would you like, as your winnings in that case?"

"You call in sick the next two days," Brian said. "And I know your supervisor has been getting on you to use your vacation days before the end of the year, and you've almost accumulated more than you can keep anyway-"

"Okay," you interrupted, wanting to get the talk away from work and back to him and you and those damned jeans. "And what do you suggest we do those last two days before the weekend coming up? Oh, I know. Chores, right? Ooh, we could retile the kitchen, maybe, or-"

You giggled as he interrupted you with kisses, softly pushing you back onto the couch, cock half-hard already under the soft denim that pressed against the fabric of your briefs.

"No, I don't think we'll have time for any of that," Brian breathed warmly against your neck in between kisses and the gentlest nibbles, with only a hint of teeth, the best and worst tease. "We'll have time for making the bed, getting in it, and leaving it maybe every now and again. But otherwise, I intend to keep myself preoccupied with you. Everything else can wait."

"How dare you be so sweet and romantic," you joked, as you wiped away a tear that had sneaked out. "When I'm this horny. What am I going to do with you?"

"Don't know," Brian mumbled against your skin. "You'll have to show me."

"You've got to get off of me, if you want me to do that," you smiled as you tapped at his chin, until he brought his mouth back to yours, and kissed you deeply.

It took your breath away, but not enough to distract you from the bet.

You slipped off the couch as he moved off of you, and sat back against the couch, feet on the floor.

"Just curious," Brian smiled as you moved to kneel between his legs. "What do you get, if you win this?"

"Aside from the hottest satisfaction of getting you off like this?" you asked. "I suppose I might request something simple."

"Is that so?"

You nodded as you moved your hands up and down his thighs slowly, feeling his muscles twitch as you did. "Like you having to keep these on after, while I get myself off on your thigh, and you kiss me senseless the whole while. Then some snuggling after we've cleaned up. Too tall an order, for my winnings?"

"Not at all," he replied, a hand tapping at the couch.

"You can't wait now, can you?" you giggled. "You want it so badly..."

"I can be patient," he protested playfully, sticking out his bottom lip in a cute pout that left you wanting to suck at said lip.

"I'll believe it when I see it," you said. "What if we add a little extra to this bet?"

He cocked his head, curls bouncing just slightly.

"You have to come while these are on, no unbuttoning or unzipping allowed, and you have to wait until I say you can come," you continued.

He nodded. "Fair enough rules. I'm game."

"Good," you chirped, and leaned down to lick a stripe up the line his hard cock made in his jeans.

His hips jumped at the contact, and you smiled.

"Still confident you can win?"

He nodded, but you could tell words were mostly beyond him already. Eyes blown wide, hands itching as he fought to keep them near him.

You resumed your task, reveling in it. It was a kink you didn't often get to indulge, trying to make him come in his trousers, and you did have a particular affinity for it when he was in jeans too. So this was an extra fantastic homecoming, as far as you were concerned.

You fought the urge to grind down on your own leg or to move a hand to your cock and folds, instead focusing on Brian, your hands touching at his hips and thighs, teasing at the tight waistband of his jeans. Your mouth stayed right by his cock, licking and sucking as best you could through the jeans. Delightfully, you realized he'd not worn pants under them, warm as his cock felt through the material.

He groaned as you kept on, finally moving his arms to rest along the back of the couch.

"I didn't say you couldn't touch me," you smiled up at him, humming just a bit as you licked up the outline of his cock again.

"I know," was the somewhat strangled response. "Don't think I should though. Can't, is maybe the better word."

"Still so certain you'll win?" You giggled, and sucked hard at his cock, moaning against it.

His hips jerked roughly.

"No, but I don't care. Fucking christ, please Y/N, please-"

"Not yet," you said softly, kissing at his cock. He was rock hard, and a part of you wanted to run and snag a condom from the bathroom, get his cock out, and ride him until you both saw stars.

But that wasn't the bet for the night.

He moaned wordlessly, pliant under your hands as you kept on with the teasing, difficult as it was to focus the more he whined and begged.

You felt his cock shudder slightly, and grinned as you looked up at him. You didn't really care who won, because as far as you cared, you already had. He was home, with you, and you were going to spend the next few weeks making up for the time he'd been gone. That was a win enough for you.

"Okay," you said, then did your best to suction your lips near the head of his cock as he came, warm through the denim.

You were ready to let him have his win, and give him a moment to compose himself, but he gestured for you to take off your briefs, and to sit on his lap.

"Not done yet," he murmured as he helped you moved against his barely starting to soften cock, a hand at the small of your back and another at your hip.

It didn't take much, or long for you. The feeling of the denim soaked with his come against your folds was the hottest fucking thing, and his lips lingered at your neck and chest, kissing and sucking hickeys onto you as you rocked and ground against him.

You knew you were going to come hard, but you came even harder as you felt him come again, with you. His cock pulsed just enough that you could feel it, grinding against him as you worked yourself through your orgasm.

For a few moments after, you both lounged against each other, kissing hard, breathlessly.

"So," you finally said, gasping slightly as he playfully bucked his hips up. "I'm going to take those two days off. And all of next week too, I think."

"I like it," Brian sighed happily. "And I think some cuddling is in order, per your request. Once I can stand up again."

"I like that," you smiled. "That's tonight sorted. But what about all this time off?"

He kissed you sweetly. "Bed, as much as we can manage. Whatever else we want to do, and no worrying about anything else. And one errand."

"Oh?" you asked.

"I need to buy more pairs of these," he blushed, gesturing to the jeans. "Straight away, I think you'll agree?"

"I do," you giggled, and leaned gently against him. "I missed you."

"I missed you too," he whispered. "I'm so glad I've got you to come home to."

You were glad too, but words enough to convey it escaped you, so you settled for kissing him again.

And you knew he understood.

#text post #LeeH writes #queen band fic #brian may x reader #brian may x trans reader

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lost-in-sokovia · 4 years

Text

toxic - chapter 4

look at him laugh🥺 anyway, i hope you enjoy this chapter as things begin to ramp up ;) (may contain spoilers to Knives Out)

You never thought you’d find yourself getting on a plane from NYC to Boston.

After one last long week at The New York Times, countless rambling and squealing from Claire, two days worth of packing and mentally preparing yourself, you sighed heavily as you sat in your squeaky leather seat. You’d chosen to do an evening flight so you’d had the whole day to pack and prepare,

Ransom had offered to send out his family’s private jet but you politely declined, you weren’t quite ready to face him yet.

You grabbed your phone to text your best friend. She’d made you promise over and over again that you would keep her updated and maybe send some pics.

Hey girl, I’m on the plane. I’ll text you when I’m off!❤️

You pressed send and set your phone on airplane mode. You reached into the pocket of your cozy sweatshirt and grabbed your earbuds, untangling them. You sighed and turned on some soft beats, leaning your head back into the squeaky seat.

You remembered your younger life with Ransom. You remembered how close you were and yet how distant you later became. Your heart stopped and your hands tingled; what if this was just one of his sick games? What if he was using you just to get together with someone over the holiday?

There was no turning back now, so all you could do was relax yourself and try to think about when times were easier.

But all you thought about was when your friendship started to break.

“Say it again, Ransom.” You dared in a fiery tone. Ransom and you were standing inches from each other, fire blazing in both your eyes.

“(Y/N) you’re a goddamn know-it-all and I’m tired of being around you!” Ransom repeated as he threw his hands in the air. Your jaw dropped as he stared at you with wide eyes and a face that read “that’s right, I said it.”

“Oh yeah?” You yelled.

“Yes! You walk around with me all the time, go into class with me, make me feel stupid in front of the other people in class and in front of my friends!” He dished as he shook his hands furiously. You furrowed your brow and slammed your hands on your nightstand.

“Those assholes are not your friends, Ransom! They’re immature and irresponsible and are turning you into someone you’re not,” you reexplained for the millionth time.

“Ho-ly SHIT! You’re so controlling! You think you know everything about everyone, oh my god you’re insane.” Ransom ran a hand through his hair and pulled down his lower eyelids, revealing more white of his eyes.

“Ransom I’m literally trying to look out for you and be in your best interest!” You cried. Your blood boiled and your stomach was turning from the stress. Ransom rolled his eyes and paced, muttering an “oh my god.”

“I’ve been there for you since we started this freak show! I know you better than anyone else! Who helped you when your dad was being a bitch? Who was there for you when other kids wouldn’t talk to you? I WAS!” Hot tears began to stream down your face as you yelled. Ransom stayed quiet and waited for you to finish. “You and I have made it through it all and now you want to ditch me for some fake-ass gold-digging white boys on drugs? These boys are using you Ransom!”

You saw Ransom’s blue eyes become slightly misty as you wiped your own eyes and calmed down a little. “Ransom, you know I love you and would do so much for you, but this isn’t it. You told me you weren’t going to become your dad,” you said earnestly. You had taken it too far though, for Ransom’s eyes narrowed and he came closer to you and grabbed your arms.

“Never, EVER, compare me to my father ever again you bitch,” Ransom said through gritted teeth before throwing your arms back and storming out, leaving you to fall to the floor and sob.

You blinked a few times to find yourself again. You wondered how many of those habits he had kept. You wondered what events awaited you in Boston. Do you think he was married? No no, he wouldn’t have invited you to stay at his home so quickly if he was married... Oh shit, was this an affair arrangement?

God, chill out, you thought. Readjusting yourself in the seat, you slowly closed your eyes as the plane made its way into the night air.

~•~•~

Ransom began his wait for you as he tried to time your arrival.

He was way calmer about the whole situation than you were. Hey, maybe he’d get something out of this to his pleasure. He smiled to himself and shook his head, laying on his couch and watching TV.

Oh wait that’s right, you wouldn’t want to do anything with him considering how “disgusting” he was. It was too bad the two of you got into an argument, he thought. He thought you were pretty cute but when you made a reference to Richard the affection turned to hatred.

All Ransom wanted to do was enjoy boarding school the way he wanted to. And that’s when his new friends came into the picture. The girls were all over him by that point, so what did you matter to him?

Damn, he wondered what you would be like when you arrived. Still hot? He looked out the window to the Boston day becoming darker, the moon and stars shining. His blue eyes slowly began to close, as he let out a sigh.

Ransom was woken up 45 minutes later to an alarm warning him you’d be at the airport soon. He groaned and ran a hand through his brown locks, forcing himself to sit up. The moon was bright and full and the trees outside shook in the breeze.

Ransom stood up and stretched, walking slowly towards the door to put on shoes and grab his keys.

He was met with frigid air when he stepped outside, seeing his breath as he huffed. He hopped into his BMW, revving up the engine and making his way towards the airport.

~•~•~•~•~

You were hit with butterflies as the plane landed. You looked around at all the plane and landing lights, seeming festive all by themselves.

You stood up to grab your things from above you and followed the crowd out the door and into the airport. You shivered from both nerves and the chill of Boston. You had done your best to look cute yet casual before you left, wearing a cute sweatshirt meant to be styled like a cable knit sweater, black leggings, and some cozy Uggs. Was it basic? Yes. Did you care? Not up until now.

Hoping your hair looked okay and that you’d put on enough makeup to suffice, you slowly walked into the airport and glanced around looking for that certain familiar face.

“(Y/N)!” A voice called out. You looked towards the direction of the sound and your stomach knotted.

There stood Ransom Drysdale in front of you with all his glory. He wore a maroon sweater with jeans and a pair of black leather shoes. His brown hair was combed back and his blue eyes shined from the lights of the airport. Did he get hotter? Wait why are you asking yourself that?

Shit shit shit shit shit...

“R-Ransom! Oh my god!” you exclaimed. He smiled at you which made your knees go weak. You forced an uncomfortable smile back at him as he hugged you for a moment.

“It’s been a while, how are you?” He asked. You could see through him easily. No matter how smitten you were, you could tell he was just trying to act normal and make normal human talk before unleashing his master plan.

“I’ve never been better,” you laughed as he pulled away and looked at you. His blue eyes quickly raked you up and down as he sighed.

“You haven’t changed a bit since we graduated,” he remarked with a fake twinkle in his eye. You blushed against your will and smiled.

“Oh god Ransom, you don’t know what you’re talking about.” You remarked. Ransom laughed.

“Come on, I’ll help you get out to my car,” he said before grabbing one of your suit cases.

“Oh! You don’t have to do that!”

“No really, that’s what best friends do.” He winked. Goddammit, how does this man manage to be both charming and fake at the same time?

Ransom sighed to himself. And so it began. He assumed you would warm up to him at some point and stop being your obnoxious polite self. He quickly glanced at you as you looked around the airport with bright eyes. He could tell you were intimidated.

You followed him out the door and shivered as a huge gust of wind overcame you as you walked out into the Boston night air. You picked up your pace slightly and held your coat closer.

“Yep, this is Boston,” Ransom replied to your actions. You gave him a nervous smile as the two of you continued walking.

~•~•~•~•~

The ride back to Ransom’s home was rather quiet. The two of you made polite conversation about the basics such as work, life, etc., but after all was said and done you rode for a good ten minutes in silence. Your body language was tense; you held your hands together and continued to glance out the window or stare at the road. Ransom seemed not to be bothered at all. Almost as if the two of you were still as close as you used to be.

Your phone buzzed and you looked down. Claire’s name was plastered as the caller ID.

“Shit,” you mumbled. You’d forgotten to text her admist all your nerves. “Sorry Ransom, this is my best friend,” you gestured to the phone.

“Not to worry.” He reassured. You answered and held the phone to your ear.

“Took you long enough!” Claire snapped. You exhaled and looked up.

“Sorry sorry, I just lost track of what I had planned,” you explained apologetically. Ransom chuckled to himself and shook his head. So, you had a best friend? He was sure he wasn’t going to hear the end of her during this holiday.

“It’s cool, I get it. So, where are you at now?”

You hesitated and cleared your throat uncomfortably.

“Oh we’re heading back to his place.”

“AH!” Claire squealed. You clenched your eyes shut and scrunched your nose. You knew Ransom could hear when he chuckled quietly.

“Ugh, this is so exciting girl! Okay okay okay, I won’t keep you any longer. Text me tonight okay?” She said eagerly, her voice dripping with the excitement she meant to hold back.

“Yep mhm,” you dismissed. Claire giggled one last time before hanging up the phone.

“She’s an excited one,” Ransom noted. You laughed and shook your head.

“Haha, yeah... She’s a bit of a fire cracker.” You replied. “Sh-she’s actually doing an article on your mom, which is how this whole thing kinda started,” you confessed. Ransom blinked as his eyes widened.

“Wow, huh.” He was taken aback. So you didn’t really mean to do that? Did that change the situation? Maybe a little, but he wasn’t going to let that stop him. “Well I mean that’s exactly what my mom needs is to have her ego be fed,” he retorted. You laughed nervously.

Ransom pulled into the driveway of his house and your jaw dropped.

“My god,” you breathed. His house was gorgeous. A balcony, large windows, beautiful trees landscaping around it...

“Y-Your house is gorgeous!” You complimented. Ransom smiled.

“Well, this week, what’s mine is yours,” he replied before getting out of the BMW. You slowly climbed out too, walking around to grab your bags from the back without taking your eyes off the house.

“Excited?” Ransom questioned. A twinge of nervousness struck your stomach as he asked that.

“Yeah, definitely,” You forced a grin. He led you to the door where he began to unlock it.

Your insides twisted and turned and your mind raced. This was the start of what you assumed was going to be a long week.

hehehe, hope you enjoyed! stay tuned for chapter 5!❤️

Taglist:

@heyiamthatbitch @mcuclintasha @captainsmallassrogers @fangirlinacoffeeshopweshare @anisiamoisa @awesomelittledemarco03 @aletteredaffair @castellandiangelo @theangrylizard @frencchfries @takemetooneverlanddd @sp2900 @smilexcaptainx @monpetitcoin21 @marymoon18 @mccunted @iamapersonwholikesunicorns @chuuulip @sweetlittlegingy @lookalivefrosty @brookebradford @patzammit @stucky-is-life-thank-you @bval-1 @need-more-time @blowfishevans @polarcrystall @little-dark-empress @rosalynshields @asianbuttcheek @dailythotdotcom @topstory21 @canny1902 @alexxcorona113 @what-inspirational-name @summer-may @abbyalee @littlefiercequeen @stardancerluv @oncemorewithfeelingg @sophiealiice

#ransom drysdale fanfiction #ransom drysdale x you #hugh ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom thrombey x reader #ransom thrombey imagine #ransom thrombey x you #knives out #knives out fanfic #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans imagine #chris evans fanfiction

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kabura-maru · 4 years

Text

Headcanons Nobody Asked for... (1/3)

I asked two of my friends who have never seen or read Kimetsu no Yaiba to give me headcanons for different characters! They know a few details or names from me talking about it but they still don’t know a lot.

I sent them the character’s official anime design/silhouette/whatever it’s called plus a second pic (usually a screenshot). I added the screenshots I sent them, ‘cause why not?

They’ve dubbed themselves Fish and Ferret for the purpose of this post. This whole experience was chaotic...

Hashira this time:

—

Mitsuri

- “Watermelon wife!”

- “She makes cookie dough just to eat it... doesn’t make the cookies”

- “Doesn’t shave her legs and will cut anyone who gives her crap for it”

- “She can’t be trusted to go into target alone otherwise she will buy the entire snack aisle”

- “Also one time she tried to bring a sword to the airport and got mad when security tried to take it away”

- “She snores”

Giyuu

- “Played the bagpipes ONE TIME and now everyone gives him shit for it”

- “He has two little sisters and he paints their nails for them”

- “He holds the snacks when everyone goes on adventures”

- “He’s hiding friendship bracelets on his ankles under those socks”

- “His pants WILL fall down without that belt and he makes sure everyone around him knows it”

- “Wears pants two sizes too large so he has room to do cartwheels and hide snacks in them”

- “Lets everyone play with his hair when they get stressed and it’s surprisingly soft “

- “Definitely puts product in his hair but denies it”

Sanemi

- “Takes off his shirt whenever he can just to prove that he does in fact have abs”

- “Eats hot Cheetos and thinks they’re spicy... Will fuck you up if you try to take one without asking”

- “The softest dude bro you’ll ever meet but he can still kick your ass”

- “Will destroy you in mini golf with no mercy”

- “I feel like he wears mascara to fancy events”

- “He had an mcr phase in middle school and never recovered”

- “Secretly plays the banjo but only when extremely drunk”

- “He holds his pencils dead wrong and is too stubborn to admit it”

- “Got lost in an ikea once and destroyed several hundred dollars worth of furniture trying to find his friends”

Shinobu

- “Unironically uses “uwu” while texting”

- “Pretends to be civil to her exes but still has massive grudges against them for tiny dumb things”

- “Will spend hours in the butterfly room at the museum trying to make friends with all the butterflies”

- “Will pull the “oh, you haven’t heard?” thing if she does anything dumb”

- “Has broken the toes of boys who were harassing her friends”

- “Squished a bug by accident once and started sobbing and quoting hamlet”

- “An absolute slut for themed gift baskets”

- “Has to smell all the scented candles but never buys any”

Uzui

- “Absolute crackhead”

- “Stole a shopping cart once and still has it in his basement somewhere”

- “Bedazzles his jeans”

- “Once jumped out of a tree with a makeshift parachute and was surprised when it didn’t work”

- “Scared of spiders”

- “Has a youtube channel where the only videos are him doing dumb shit”

Gyomei

- “ “Guys come on, it’s not jewelry!” “

- “A big softie but refuses to admit it”

- “His friends quote vines a lot and he doesn’t get it”

- “Frequently gets lost from the group while stopping to tie his shoe”

- “Very passionate about saving the bees”

Muichirou

- “Soft!!”

- “Regularly calls people out for being idiots but is just trying to keep everyone safe”

- “He looks for smooth rocks and takes them home just because”

- “Was the kid who sat in the outfield and made daisy chains for his friends during baseball practice”

- “He spends 10 minutes lint-rolling cat hair off his clothes before he leaves the house”

- “Owns 20 pairs of the same socks because they were on sale”

Iguro

- “He orders food for his Snek at restaurants and makes sure there’s no egg in it because his Snek is allergic”

- “Snuggles with Snek during the winter to make sure Snek stays warm”

- “Has ink all over his hands from artwork”

- “Crochets tiny Snek hats! Gives them as gifts and no one knows what to do with them”

- “Snek draws too and he hangs the pictures up in his house”

- “Gives other people haircuts and they’re surprisingly good”

Kyojuro

- “Fights crocodiles and refuses to see why it isn’t a good idea”

- “Can and will fight anything that moves”

- “Will drink until he passes out if he’s trying to beat someone else”

- “Challenges people to push-up contests for fun. Everyone hates it”

- “Always the one who comes up with bad ideas that somehow end up working”

- “Bleached his hair by himself once and refuses to acknowledge the fact that it was ever a different color”

- “Shaved the ends of his eyebrows off on a whim and keeps them like that only because everyone hates them”

I then asked them about some canon things and who they thought applied to who as well as asking about their friendships

“Who would you ship?”

- “I ship hot cheeto boy and shopping cart man” / “I feel like they have the most potential chaotic energy together” (Sanemi and Uzui)

- “Butterfly girl and bagpipe boy are possibly together and it’s the softest thing ever” (Shinobu and Giyuu)

“Who do you think has multiple spouses?”

- “Doesn’t get vines guy has a fuck ton of wives but they’re all buds so it’s fine” (Gyomei)

“One is trained by the other, who is that?”

- “Mui is being trained by butterfly girl” (Shinobu)

“More of a fandom thing but which one gets bullied by the others?”

- “I think flame haired bleach boy gets absolutely roasted by everyone but they keep him around because he knows how to have a good time” (Kyo)

“Who are friends?”

“Snek and Mui are buds!”

#maru post #kny #kimetsu no yaiba #kny mitsuri #kny giyuu #kny sanemi #kny uzui #kny himejima #kny iguro #kny muichiro #kny shinobu #kny kyojuro #kny hashira #hashira #kny headcanons #kimetsu no yaiba headcanons #hashira headcanons

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steppedoffaflight · 4 years

Text

Summer’s a Knife - Chapter 7

Catch up on Chapter 6 here

To reward Van for his vulnerability you send him a video of your hand underneath the lace, your fingers moving against yourself. It felt good, sure, but most importantly it filmed good. Van seems to think so, too, judging by his next video.

You sigh in amusement at his enthusiasm. You forget how easy riling up men can be.

Maybe you’d cut someone else off at this point, but Van’s eagerness was endearing. You continue to send him videos of you touching yourself, playing up some soft moans into the microphone. After a few exchanges Van sends a video of his grand finale, complete with his own noises in the background. It’s the one bit out of everything you wish you could’ve saved.

Faking an orgasm is strictly against the rules, so you decide to close off snapchat, coming back to your texts with him instead. In an exhilarated rush you let your glasses of wine do the typing as you send Hope that makes London more bearable.

As always, Mary keeps you out of your comfort zone.

Word count: ~5.6k

Chapter Seven May 2019

Van leaves for the U.K. only days after your accident. You insist on being the one to drop him off at the airport, waking up barely past midnight on a workday in order to get him to LAX for his six AM flight. He’d fought tooth-and-nail against you being the one to take him, insisting on catching a ride with one of the other boys, but to be honest you’d wanted to see him one last time. You wanted to reassure him that you were a normal, functioning person, and not the traumatized mess he’d seen that night.

He’d given you a tight hug over the console as the car idled on the curb in front of his terminal before getting out and grabbing his bags, heading into the hustle and bustle of the airport. You don’t take off immediately but Van doesn’t look back. You watch him examine his phone through the glass doors before he shuffles off, rolling his suitcase behind him.

For the first time, you don’t have to wonder if you’ll see Van again. You’re absolutely certain you will, considering you drive away from the airport in his Range Rover.

It’s weird how comfortable you become driving it. You do have to text Van occasionally through the week with questions, but eventually you’ve made yourself right at home, going so far as to even set some of your own radio station presets. Hopefully he doesn’t mind, but you’d tried to listen to his and it just wasn’t your style. At this rate your indie-rock repertoire consisted of only Catfish and the one Sam Fender song you’d listened to after meeting him. And you were okay with that.

Mary has you come over Friday after work for a girl’s night. She insists it’s because Theo is headed to a bachelor party and she’ll be bored alone, but you get the feeling she’s been worried about you since your accident. She texts you more often than usual, asking about your muscle stiffness and the cut on your thigh. It’d been infected, but cleared up quickly with some first aid ointment you’d had around the house. You were still banged up and had some nasty bruises, but overall you felt lucky things hadn’t been worse.

The plans tonight are tame, a sure sign of Mary’s worry. While she’d usually jump on a girl’s night as an opportunity to head to a club, something you two haven’t done in forever, she insists on renting a movie and changing into pajamas as soon as you’re over. You have chinese delivered for dinner, and wash it down with a bottle of wine Mary had carefully selected for this evening. You two watch a comedy as you eat your food straight out of the paper containers, something funny about divorced women who decide to take a road trip and make impulsive decisions.

The whole living room rings out in shrieks of pain when one of the characters decides to get a bikini wax. You both cringe but can’t take your eyes off of the screen.

“God, remember when I got that wax?” Mary winces.

You remember it vividly, even though it was years ago. Mary had just started dating someone new and during your brow appointments she spur of the moment decided to get a brazillian wax done. One thing you appreciated about Mary’s boldness was your ability to learn from her mistakes; You know now that you will never, ever get a wax.

“I could never, ever, forget,” You tell her somberly as you recall the memory. She had waited until you were done with your brow wax so that you could be in the room with her, holding her hand. It had been traumatic for you both.

“He didn’t even care,” Mary shakes her head in distaste. “All that pain for nothing. He didn’t say one word about it when we fucked the next time.”

She spends a moment simmering in her anger before she shrugs, the clouds clearing. “It made for some great nudes, though. I used them when I first started talking to Theo and he still has them saved to this day.”

“No way? Even with recent ones?”

“What recent ones,” Mary snorts. “I haven’t sent him any in forever. He keeps asking but it’s like, I have to be in a certain mood, you know?”

You nod in understanding. “For sure. I’m never in the mood to photograph myself in fluorescent bathroom lighting.”

“Right, exactly!” Mary takes a long drink of her wine, finishing off her glass. “Now that I have a dimmer in the bathroom, though, it’s so much nicer. Turn it down to a nice glow, ugh.” She gives a chef’s kiss to the air. “So nice.”

She refills her wine glass, topping yours up without being asked. Your attention drifts back to the movie.

“I should take some new ones,” Mary muses.

“You should,” You encourage her.

“No, like, right now,” She says suddenly, sitting up. “I never have the house to myself. I should take some to send to Theo. Gotta keep his eyes off of the strippers, you know.”

You scoff at the idea that Theo would pay anyone else besides Mary a glance. He was head over heels for her. But you can see that Mary’s been hit with an unstoppable lightning bolt of inspiration, already shuffling her blanket aside so she can stand up.

“You gotta help me.” She hits pause on the movie, effectively changing the course of the night. “You always get my angles right.”

You sigh, but know there’s no use in arguing. You start to get up as well.

“I’ll grab more wine,” Mary says cheerfully, bouncing away towards the kitchen.

“You should take some for your man, too!” She calls from the other room.

You let out a dry laugh. “I don’t have a man.”

“Sure you do,” Mary smirks as she reenters the living room with an unopened bottle of wine, “You’re driving his Range Rover, aren’t you?”

“I’m driving my friend’s Range Rover,” You reply. “He was very clear that we are friends.”

“But he’s a friend that would appreciate a nice pic of you.”

“I’m sure he would. But I’m in the ugliest underwear ever, anyway.” You flash her the overworn pair you had on that was probably overdue to be thrown out.

“I have so many cute pairs!”

“We are not the same size!”

“Sure we are!” Mary has started her trip upstairs, and you follow along with both of your wine glasses. “You can fit my underwear for sure!”

“But not your bras!” Your ribcage was definitely wider than Mary’s.

“We can finesse them,” She insists. “We just need some safety pins. Or a hair tie. I dunno, but we’ll make it work.”

Mary’s place included a stunning walk in closet that you’ve always envied. It was attached to the master bedroom and included sets of drawers that kept all of her folded clothes organized. Theo clearly did not share your enthusiasm for the drawers, considering his clothes were in a heap on the floor underneath his hanging rack.

“He’s disgusting,” Mary shakes her head when she sees you notice Theo’s clothes. “I can’t get him to fold a fucking shirt no matter how hard I try. He just wants to hang everything! And there’s not enough space for that!” She gestures passionately to Theo’s hanging rod, which is indeed overflowing.

“Anyway, pick a set,” She slides open a few drawers, revealing matching bra and underwear sets. Lingerie had always been Mary’s forte.

Mary snatches a black lace set. The bra is clearly not intended for coverage purposes, as it’s obvious from glancing at it that her nipples will show right through the lace. You carefully consider a few other bras that catch your eye, but they’re all push-ups with thick padding. Something about Mary’s sheer bra just feels like it would catch Van off guard.

“I want the set you have,” You pout, hoping she’ll politely hand it over.

“I love this set so much,” Mary sighs. “I wanted to buy two sets at the store the day I tried it on because it was so incredible, but they didn’t have another one in black and all the other colors didn’t have the same oomf, you know?” She rifles through the drawers she has open before kneeling down, opening more.

“But they did have this one,” She presses a lacy bra into your hands. It’s identical to hers, except navy blue instead of black. “Does that work?”

You unravel the flimsy lace, marveling at how sheer it is. “Yes!”

“And for underwear,” Mary tuts, browsing her drawers again. “I don’t have the matching ones for those, but these are kinda the same color.”

The underwear is only one shade lighter than the bra, which won’t be noticeable in pictures. The problem is that it’s a thong, with a waistband that’s meant to settle high on your hips.

“I can’t wear these,” You sigh in disappointment when you unravel the delicate strips of fabric barely thick enough to be held together at the seams. “I look terrible in thongs.”

“Nuh-uh! High waisted thongs are totally different. Trust me! Once you get the waistband right it makes your ass look so round!”

Already your heart was sinking in anticipation of trying on ill-fitting clothes and being too discouraged to take any pictures in them. “Alright,” You sigh, not willing to argue about it.

Mary heads back into the bedroom, shedding her pajamas before slipping into the lingerie. You follow her to the bathroom, where she plays with the dimmer while you gulp down more wine to soothe your nerves.

“Take a pic,” Mary commands, halfheartedly posing. You do, and then she reviews it, adjusting the dimmer again as she mutters to herself.

“Another one.”

When she reviews this one, her face lights up. “Perfect,” She tells you, pressing her phone back into the palm of your hand. “Put the wine down, and let’s do this.”

Mary is stunning on camera. Taking pictures comes as easily to her as everything else. She’s not even the slightest bit shy about you being the one to take them, shamelessly sitting down on the edge of the bathtub and spreading her legs, running her fingers provocatively over her thighs. She’s right about the dim lighting making all the difference. Every photo you take of her looks sendable, even if she wrinkles her nose when she reviews them.

When she’s done she’s got a huge selection to chose from, each picture slightly different then the last. She sends one focused on her bra to Theo immediately, and saves the rest for a different time.

“Now you!” She exclaims, excitedly clapping her hands together.

If you were nervous in the beginning, watching Mary so flawlessly pose has definitely ruined your confidence by now. You hesitate, eyeing your chosen clothes on the bed.

“No excuses!” Mary cries when she sees your hesitation. “Didn’t you say Van was in London? What better way to keep him thinking about you then this?”

She’s right. For all you knew he could be sleeping in someone else’s bed right now.

You heave a defeated sigh, slipping off your clothes before shimmying into Mary’s.

The bra does need some finessing, Mary cleverly linking two safety pins together to add the necessary length to the band. It’s uncomfortable but it works, and your nipples do show right through the lace as you’d intended.

You hold your breath as you shimmy into the thong. The lace uncomfortably slips between your thighs, disappearing into your ass. You grimace down at yourself as you adjust the waistband, unhappy with the way it looks.

“This doesn’t look right,” You sigh when you examine yourself in the bathroom mirror.

“Come here,” Mary demands, entering the bathroom with you. Her cold fingers make you flinch as the fusses with the lace, picking at it until it’s positioned to her satisfaction. “This is how it’s supposed to look.”

When you look back in the mirror to see her handiwork, you’re stunned. Her nitpicking had worked some serious magic on the fit. She’d tugged the waistband up until it rested right below your belly button, and then had tugged the sides even higher. The high leg cut of the material revealed extra skin, successfully giving the illusion that you have a more hourglass figure with a larger ass than you actually had.

“See?” Mary smiles at your reflection through the mirror. “Now time for the magic.”

Unfortunately, however, you are not as photogenic as Mary. Although Mary dismisses any gripes you have about the photos she’s taking, you can’t shake the gut feeling that nothing you were doing was working. You didn’t feel confident enough to send a single one of these photos to Van. You shy away from taking photos on a normal day, let alone in lingerie with someone else in the room. Eventually you grab your phone from Mary’s hands.

“This isn’t working,” You huff.

“But it is,” Mary argues, “You look incredible!”

“Okay, well maybe I need to take some alone,” You compromise. “You’re giving me stage fright!”

“How am I giving you stage fright? I’m telling you how hot you look!”

“Please,” You plead with her, “Just give me some time to try to get something halfway decent.”

“Suit yourself,” Mary shrugs, swigging the wine on the counter straight from the bottle. “But you’re not allowed to leave until I see proof you’ve sent him one.”

With that she leaves you to it, softly closing the bathroom door behind her.

You wish she would’ve left the wine.

Now that you’re alone, the pressure is on. You open up the camera, praying you’ll have some good luck.

Without being watched things go much smoother. Within a handful of shots you’ve gotten one that you like. You’re sitting on the edge of the bathtub, the warm glow from the mirror lights lighting up the skin on your chest. The details of the lace are visible enough, but the dark color of your nipples through the fabric steals the focus. Your hand is suggestively cupping one breast, your pointer finger dangerously close to brushing your nipple. There’s not enough light in the room to illuminate any of the background behind your body. The entire focus is on the bra, which consumes the entire faceless shot.

The moment you feel the thrill of having taken a decent photo you take advantage of the feeling. You rush to send it to Van before you chicken out. At the very least, you’ve now satisfied Mary’s requirements and can now be released from the bathroom.

You forget exactly what the time difference is between L.A. and London, but you think it’s something significant, so Van probably wouldn’t be looking at your text right this second. But you’re still riding a wave of adrenaline, so you decide to take a few more in anticipation of his reaction.

You try out one of Mary’s poses, legs spread open and a hand suggestively on your thigh. Taking it yourself adds something extra to the angle the way it’s looking down onto your lap, capturing your perspective.

Your phone buzzes in your hand in the middle of snapping another pic. You almost drop your phone in surprise.

Christ, is all Van’s sent.

Do you like it? You type back nervously.

Yeah

Van’s lack of emotion is typical, but you’re desperate to prompt something more from him tonight. You send the photo of your open thighs as a follow up.

There you go, You send underneath it with a winky face.

Immediately the typing indicator comes up. Got any more?

Do you have snapchat? Your heart races as you send it.

Van’s reply is one word: his username.

You scramble to open up snapchat, adding him immediately. He accepts you with as much eagerness.

Say hi!, the app prompts you as soon as you two are deemed friends. You click the prompt, opening up the camera screen.

Piggybacking off of the photo of your thighs, you dare to take a video in the same position. This time you let your fingers brush over the lace covering you, cutting off the video as soon as it looks like you’re going to tuck a fingertip under the fabric.

As quick as it’s sent, you watch the status on the app change to opened.

When a notification from Van suddenly appears, you tap it without a second thought.

Your gasp audibly echoes around the small room. It’s a clip of Van’s briefs, Van zooming in on the fabric in an attempt to emphasize how hard he is. There’s one that loads immediately after. He’s undressed now, jerking himself off.

“Are you okay in there?” Mary knocks on the door.

“Yes!” You exclaim breathlessly. “Go away! I’m having a convo with Van!”

“You have to show me everything when you’re done!” Mary yells through the door, retreating when you hurriedly agree. Thankfully your actual texting thread is mild compared to what you’re about to send.

You sigh in amusement at his enthusiasm. You forget how easy riling up men can be.

Christttt Van sends again. Trust me it did

You emerge from the bathroom in all your flushed, disheveled glory. Mary throws her phone down on the bed when you come into the bedroom.

“What happened?” She shouts in excitement, bouncing on the bed. “What’d you send him?”

You open up your texting thread and pass it over. “We only texted for a sec.”

Mary’s eyes widen. “You snapchatted him?”

“I mean…” You shrug, blushing. “We snapchatted each other.”

Mary beams in approval. “‘Hope that makes London more bearable’,” She reads out loud before cackling. “Jesus, girl, what has gotten into you?”

“I don’t know!” You exclaim, laughing. “I never do shit like this!”

“I’ve never seen you act like this,” Mary agrees, passing your phone back. “Van is just bringing out a Y/N like never before.”

“Oh, stop. It’s just been forever since I’ve been around someone I really like. That’s all. You know I had that awful dating streak that was so bad I literally gave up.”

“That’s true, I do remember talking you into giving Van a chance,” Mary smirks. “At this rate I’m waiting for a wedding invitation.”

You wrinkle your nose. “No way.”

“You wouldn’t marry him?”

“Van doesn’t seem like the husband type,” You shrug. “And I don’t even know him, so… Definitely saying no to that proposal.”

Mary hums like she doesn’t quite believe you. “I dunno…” She singsongs. “He acts like he loves you. The whole racing out in a thunderstorm thing? And he gives head. He loves you more than Theo loves me, that’s for sure.”

You roll your eyes at her joke. “He’s just very nice,” You brush her off. “I guess he can afford to be extra nice, like the car thing. But he’s never put out any feelers to even be my boyfriend, so I don’t think he’ll be my husband anytime soon.”

“And what about you?”

You turn around so Mary can undo the safety pins on the bra. “What?”

“Like what kind of feelings do you have for him?”

You think for a moment. “I like what we have. He’s fun to be around.”

“You’re not falling in love with him?”

“No!” You giggle.

“Not even a little bit?”

“Oh God, I think everyone’s a little bit in love with him. Did you see everyone at that show?”

“You’re right.” Mary’s done unhooking the bra, and you shimmy out of it. “It even rubbed off on me a little. If things don’t work out can I make my move?”

You two erupt in a fit of giggles at the idea.

The next day slips by, lazy and slow. You and Mary go to bed late, wake up even later, and take your sweet time heading out to grab some breakfast. By the time you’re sitting down to eat it’s already edging towards late afternoon. Theo stumbles in, hungover and exhausted from last night’s adventures. He’s got his own hangover cure in hand, and you three eat together while Mary and you tease him about the strippers.

Afterwards you all settle in on the couch. Mary and Theo are in the middle of some series, and you watch it for lack of anything better to do even if you don’t understand the plot. They seem quite passionate over whatever’s happening, and that’s more amusing than the actual show. You manage to sneak a few clips of the two of them angrily debating over a character and send them to Van on snapchat. He texts you a laughing face in response.

Before you know it it’s dinnertime, and you never ended up going back to your own place. You’re grateful to be so close with someone that staying over a second time is an unspoken agreement as you all argue over where to order dinner from. If anything, Mary seems happy that she can keep a close eye on you for a little longer.

The argument somehow ends with everyone working together to make spaghetti. Theo takes over meatball production, you’re in charge of concocting a pot of sauce, and Mary takes on the extraordinary task of both DJing and boiling the prepackaged noodles. There’s no garlic bread, so you all settle for baking regular slices of bread piled with butter, cheese and spices. Despite everyone’s differences in technique and flavor preferences, by some magic it all turns out perfect.

After your late dinner you retire to the guest bedroom, which you’ve stayed in many times over the years. But after a day of being lazy you feel restless, your body feeling rested enough to resist sleep. You pass the time by scrolling mindlessly on social media.

What are you up to?

Van’s not really one to text first, so when the notification slides onto your screen you jump at something to entertain you. Can’t sleep :( you confess.

In the same boat Van replies.

You snort to yourself. Aren’t you always lol

Haha yeah. Another bubble from him: Doesn’t make it easier though

I bet, You type back. I’m sure time differences don’t help.

Deffo not.

As you try to think of a response, Van sends another. Where are you?

Laying in bed. Stayed over at Mary’s again.

Typing indicator. Then: Can you manage a sec alone?

I don’t have any more pics Van. I sent you the only two good ones I took. You punctuate the message with a laughing emoji.

Highly doubt that

That you only took two good ones I mean

But actually I was wondering if I could give you a call

At that you perk up. Yeah you can call!

Van doesn’t respond to your text, but after about five agonizing, uncertain minutes your phone lights up with his call.

“Hello,” You greet him immediately.

“Hi.” You don’t realize how much you miss Van’s voice until you hear it. “What time is it for you?”

“Midnight,” You tell him after peeking at your screen to double check. “What time is it there?”

“Eight.”

“At night?”

“No, in the morning.”

The weirdness of talking to someone who’s existing in a whole different time of day settles over your skin. “That’s weird.”

Van laughs. “Are you alone?”

“Yep,” You tell him, smoothing the comforter over your legs to keep your hands busy. “Why are you being so paranoid?”

“Paranoid?” Van sounds both amused and offended. “About what?”

“About me being alone! Is you calling me some sort of secret?”

“No!” Van chuckles. “I just want to make sure we’re speaking in private.”

You start to catch his drift, trying to suppress your smile so he doesn’t hear it down the line. “Oh? And why’s that?”

“You can’t sleep, right?” Van’s voice is low.

The sudden shift in the tone of his voice makes your stomach flip. You try to keep your tone breezy. “It’s kind of annoying, yeah.”

“It is,” Van agrees.

“But it’s morning for you,” You tease him, “Shouldn’t you be heading to work?”

“Not ‘til later. Which is fucking great because I didn’t sleep a wink all night.”

“Oh? That sounds rough.”

“Wasn’t so bad. Wrote a pretty good song.”

“You wrote a song?” You furrow your brows in confusion even if nobody’s there to see. “Your album just came out!”

“I never stop writing,” Van brushes you off. “Anytime an idea hits I play around with it.”

You wonder if he writes down these songs in that leather notebook you’d seen at his house. “I see.”

“Yeah.” Van’s voice suddenly goes back to the lower tone he’d been using before you two had gotten distracted. “Anyway, I thought we’d help each other out.”

“Help each other out? How?” You deliver your question in the same mock-cluelessness of a cheesy porn actress.

“Oh, Christ,” Van’s quiet laughter bubbles over the line. “Will you fucking quit?”

“Quit what?” You maintain the cluelessness. “I don’t understand what you’re asking me to do, Mr. McCann.”

Van laughs so hard it turns to a coughing fit. “That’s fucking sick. Mr. McCann is my dad.”

“Ew,” You agree quietly. “But what did you have in mind?”

“Thought we could both get off, if you’d like to get focused.”

“Don’t blame this on me,” You argue mildly. “Where do we start?”

“Pants off and getting comfortable, I suppose.”

“Yeah, okay.” You set the phone aside while you wriggle out of your underwear and debate what position you’d like to be in. Laying down worked fine, but the pillows on the bed have the gears in your brain whirring. You internally debate whether using one of the guest room pillows is disgusting. You were pretty sure you were the only one that stayed in here, though. And you could just use one and concoct some sort of reason they’d need to wash it later. You promise yourself the latter and grab one of the ones at the bottom of the stack.

You hear the noise of Van speaking, but the phone isn’t pressed to your ear.

“Huh?” You ask when you pick it back up. “I set the phone down.”

“Are you ready?” Van asks.

“No, I’m still getting comfortable.” You smush the phone into the crook of your neck while you puff the flattened pillow and straddle it.

“What? How long does that take?”

“Shush,” You demand. “It’s a science. Anyway, I’m comfortable now.” You sit back on your knees, feeling the cool fabric press between your legs.

“What’s comfortable?”

Your cheeks heat up in embarrassment that you have to explain it. But you suppose you better get over that quick, considering it’s the only way this’ll work. “Um, I’m using a pillow.”

“Like that show we watched?”

You feel your face burning hotter even though he was being genuine. “Yeah. Like that. You’re doing this too, right?”

“Course I’m doing it too,” Van assures you. “Can’t let you have all the fun.”

You chew at a piece of dead skin on your lip. “So what position are you in?”

“On my back on my bed. The usual.”

In your mind you picture his bedroom twenty minutes away, even though that’s not where he is. The fact you have no idea what’s going on on his end is disorienting. “Are you hard?”

“Uh, just about,” Van’s voice is raspy. “Figure once you get going I’ll be there.”

“You want me to start first?” Your voice wavers the tiniest bit from nerves.

“Yeah. Talk me through it.”

“Okay…” You trail off nervously. You switch your phone into your other hand so that you can reach between your legs with your dominant hand. All of this talking has already had a noticeable effect on your body, which is instantly happy at some light friction.

“I, uh-” You shiver at your own touch. “Just starting off slow.”

Van makes a small, strained noise. It’s so slight it almost sounds like background noise, but there’s the noise of his exhale against the speaker. Encouraged by his response, you search for something more to say.

“With circles,” You add. “You know, uh, how you start off with bigger circles?” The idea of him being the one to touch you makes you shudder. “Like that. You always get it right.”

“Yeah?” Van breathes.

“Yeah,” You sigh. Your fingers speed up, your hips rocking against the pillow to magnify the sensation. “Did you start yet?”

“I did,” Van confirms. You shut your eyes tight and try to imagine him.

“Do you use something?” You ask, desperate to be able to sharpen the image in your mind’s eye.

“Hm?”

“Like… lotion? Or lube?” Your fingertips rub over a spot that sends a shock up your spine and you can’t control your gasp.

Van starts speaking but stutters in surprise at your noise. “No,” He finally grits out. “I- I do the old lick-the-palm-of-my-hand. That’s it though.”

You’ve narrowed down the spot throbbing for attention, a moan slipping down the line to Van. “Fuck,” You sigh, your legs widening. You press against the pillow harder, riding it with the same enthusiasm you ride Van with. “I wish I had my vibrator,” You whine.

His breath hitches. “You’ve got one?”

“At home in my drawer I do.” Thinking about pressing it into you while it buzzes on the perfect setting makes you twitch desperately against your fingertips. “Fuck, I wish I had it so bad.”

“What would you do with it, though?” Van pants. You can clearly hear the soft clicking of Van’s foreskin slipping against any precome, giving you a sense of his rhythm.

“Slow down,” You plead, trying to focus and match your tight circles to his pace. “I’m trying to go at the same pace as you.”

Van’s breathing is jagged as you hear him slow his pace slightly.

You try to think up some sort of response to Van’s question about the vibrator. The only reason you were craving it so bad is because Van was out of town. It doesn’t see the light of day when he’s in L.A..

“I only use it when you’re not here,” You confess, too exhilarated to censor yourself. “So if you were around I wouldn’t be doing shit with it.”

“Oh fuck,” Van sounds dangerously close to the edge. “I miss you. I wish I was fucking you.”

His voice sounds raw. You replay the way he says he misses you over and over in your mind.

“I miss you too,” You admit, your voice cracking. “I’ve been thinking about riding you this entire time.”

“I’m gonna come,” Van pants.

“I know,” You tell him. “I can hear it.”

There’s the frantic noise of his pace speeding up before Van’s moaning down the line. You squeeze your eyes shut so hard it hurts just so you can picture his face, recalling all the details you remember when you’d jerked him off over your stomach.

You focus on your hazy fantasy of riding Van and getting to see his face tense like that until you’re over the edge, breathing his name into the microphone.

A blissful silence follows as you both come back down. You allow your bodyweight to slump sideways, dramatically rolling off of the pillow.

“What was that?” Van croaks.

“Me readjusting,” You say, hesitantly giving the pillow a slight sniff. It smells like sex. You cram it back into the bottom of the pile, reminding yourself to think up a lie in the morning.

“Oh. Think you can sleep now?”

“Yeah.” You wince at the way your thighs ache from your position. “Definitely wore myself out. What about you?”

“Exhausted. Ready to catch some rest.”

“Okay.” You yawn. “I’ll let you go.”

“I miss you,” Van says again earnestly. “I’ll be back in the States soon.”

It’s one thing to say things spur of the moment during sex, but Van repeating his declaration stuns you.

“Miss you,” You reply instinctually. “So does my vibrator. It’s in need of a vacation.”

Your joke lands as intended, your heart swelling as Van breaks out into a belly laugh.

“Christ,” He catches his breath enough to say. “You’re somethin’ else.” You hear the faint click of his lighter. “Stay on the phone and have a smoke with me?”

“I can’t,” You groan in disappointment. “I don’t have any on me.”

“Oh. Alright. I’ll let you get to sleep, then.” He sounds equally as disappointed.

“Okay. Text me.”

“I will. Goodnight.”

“Night.”

#summer's a knife #catfish and the bottlemen #catb #catb fic #van mccann #van mccann fic #van mccann fanfiction #vanfic

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1zashreena1 · 4 years

Text

Angst Fluff Whiplash -14

18+, m/f, technically OCxDiego Jimenez [Power]

Summary: What does an apex predator do after confessing undying love? Princess is about to find out.

WARNINGS: Ridiculous descriptions and ‘the code is more like guidelines’ outlook on grammar. Is it OOC if the character was given essentially zero development in canon???

Non-descriptive sexytimes, the L word, criminal activities glossed over, relationship building, plus size woman+fit man, Anxiety, This one is all feels and

I Am So NOT Sorry.

THE TIME HAS COME

A/N: Princess took on a life of her own and has essentially become an OC. There are infrequent mentions of her description (specifically as plus size) and her actual name in later pieces (its Bicki). She started as self-insert so she looks like me (plus size, white, short, blue eyes, curly hair). If that is not your thing, I totally understand. And do not feel obligated to read this, I will not be offended!

I’m not a fan of “plot” so be aware that most of this series is just meandering through their relationship, angst-fluff-smut whiplash style. But with dick jokes.

TAGLIST: @chelsfic @symbiont13 @nicke0115 @bunnykjm @rosee-sensuelle @girlpornparadise @mandoplease @heresathreebee @xxsteph-enrixx @jetiikad @joalsglasses @mutantcookiesecrets @demoncatstone @squidlywiddly87 @lockedoutofmyotherblog @poeedamerons

"I don't know, Lisa. He won't tell me. Not until this weekend apparently? We're supposed to go shopping."

"Honestly, I'm scared. I mean, there's the whole how did he get a passport FOR me dilemma. Then the part where he knows I don't like surprises. And he said he was calling my sister!"

"Oh my God, she could tell him anything! Please don't tell him about the Backstreet Boys phase. I'm going to have a panic attack."

"Of course he would tease me about it for eternity!"

"What? Watch what words? What are you talking about?"

"Do not hang up this phone! Do you even love me?!? Lisa? …. Hello?"

You toss your phone down on the bed and heave a huge sigh. Your very own BFF, abandoning you like that. Luckily its your own phone and not the insane cell Diego got you because it bounces off the other side of the bed and smacks into the wall before admitting total defeat to gravity.

You stand there staring at your open suitcase. Your typical items are in there already. You don't need any toiletries. Or makeup, now. Or bras. Or underwear. Fucking hell, its like I already moved into the penthouse with him.

… Could I do that? He already basically asked for it. He keeps telling me to quit my job and let him spoil me for real. You wring your hands together while rubbing your lips against each other and being bombarded with intrusive thoughts. Yeah. Until he's done with me and then I have to start all over. At 35.

But its been almost a year now that you've been seeing Diego. What does that even mean, "seeing" him? You think about how the last few months have been so… easy. He practically lives in New York now, their territory split. He opted to control the East Coast and let his sister deal with the logistical nightmare of receiving the imports.

He has been a lot looser since then. Faster to laugh, quicker to goof around, less likely to do anything as hard as he used to do. The distance from Alicia has allowed him to really flourish in every aspect. And he's beautiful with it. The laugh lines and the soft brown eyes wreck you every time.

He says he wants to keep you. Take care of you. You finally believe that he loves you. He has made so many improvements in communication. Hell, he read books on how to be with someone on the spectrum. Do you understand it? Hell no. Are you going to take it and run? Fuck yeah dude. I love him and I want to keep him.

And now he wants to take you on a trip. A surprise destination. Out of the country with a mostly legal passport. You don't doubt that you'll be safe with him. Your parents were a little concerned when you told them since they've never even met him. And they saw him on the national news that time he got arrested by the Feds, so that really inspires confidence.

Your middle sister Lynne and niece Halley accidentally met him that one afternoon about a month back. And they have not shut up about it since. Diego this, Diego that, blah blah blah, paid the restaurant bill in cash, yadda yadda, took us all shopping to a Coach store and then got Halley some crazy new sold out Nikes. Diego had been delighted to be surrounded by a gaggle of giggling girls enjoying his spoiling attentions. Just like always, Diego went to the max and charmed them silly.

It was like having an out of body experience to see Diego with them. You couldn't really fault them, he swept you off your feet with no problems. He was grinning and joking the whole time, making raunchy comments with your sister and encouraging your niece to be assertive (unnecessary according to her soccer coach and the 'Most Aggressive' trophy). He fit right in with them. Afterwards he had asked if that was what it was like to have normal siblings and your heart broke thinking about what his childhood had been like with his sister.

Which brought you back to the here and now. He had mentioned off hand that he was going to call your sister. Maybe you should text her. She might know something.

Maybe you should just pack your bag and trust him.

Your Diego Cell chirps and you dive for it on the nightstand. Is he okay? Please don't be hurt.

Its a pic of him. In the shower. With his own hand wrapped around himself. You choke on air and have to sit down.

I miss you Princess

Holy. Shit. Its been almost a year that you have had unrestricted access to that incredible body and your reaction is still the same. Before you can respond another text arrives:

SOON

The attached pic is just from squinty eyes up.

You burst out laughing at him. You love that he is secretly a nerd about internet stuff. His appearance would never give that away. Time to be ridiculous right back.

Don't make me lick your eyeball

You are a crazy person laughing to yourself alone in your bedroom.

You are so weird

Yet there you are, lusting after this weirdo

You shoot back.

… Am I the weirdo??

No. Still you.

I would threaten to bite it.. but you would like that

Well now you have to

Oh my God. You're fairly certain you could do anything to this man and he would think it was sexy. Its a novel experience.

Can we eat dinner at home tomorrow? I don't feel like wearing a real bra

You know the answer to that.

YES. NO MORE BRAS EVER AGAIN. BE FREE

… no panties?🙏🥺

You can see the hopeful puppy dog eyes clearly.

A for effort babe. One of these days you might get your wish lol

...Are you panty free right now?

Wow. He is really trying here.

I'm packing.

Your pic is a heap of tangled thongs dumped on top of Tiny Murder Panther.

💜🔥😛

He would find that hot. Fucking nympho.

Lemme finish this so I can go straight to the airport tomorrow

Fine. But I am pouting

You do not doubt that.

Don't care. Still love your stupid face

You cannot believe you just sent that.

Princess.

Mi amor.

Diego's good little girl.

You shudder with the praise. You can hear it in his voice, as if he were right here with you.

I love you

Dream of me?

Oh baby, if you only knew. You sigh wistfully.

Always, baby

---------------‐---------

The flight is uneventful, thankfully. Your maxidress with a built-in shelf bra is stupidly comfortable and you actually take a nap.

The plane has barely come to a stop and you already have on your silly lambswool lined Ugg flip flops. You had argued with Diego about these (Why would flip flops need a warm fuzzy lining??) but he had won by sticking one in your face and ordering you to feel. It didn't take a full second for you to snatch them both from him and cuddle them to your chest. His pleased smile full of dimples was worth all the subsequent teasing.

You slip on one of his previously stolen shirts in a metallic lilac color and roll up the sleeves so you have use of your hands. Bending at the waist, you flip your hair over and fluff it back up from the nap. What was that he had said? Oh yes: Wild and thick, just how I like it. The memory makes you bite your bottom lip and smile.

Bastian is waiting for you on the tarmac. He takes your bag and kisses you on the cheek in greeting. "Hey, sweetie. Nice shirt, is that new?" His knowing grin is infectious.

You nuzzle into the collar with a laugh. "Thanks! My boyfriend gave it to me."

Bastian chuckles as he opens the passenger door for you. "Oh, honey. That is not all he is going to give you." He closes the door while you roll your eyes smirkingly.

The ride to the penthouse is uneventful. Well, as uneventful as Friday evening rush hour traffic can be in New York.

Bastian waits until the song is over before lowering the stereo volume. "We're supposed to pick up dinner. Any requests?" He drums his fingers on the steering wheel while you sit at the red light.

You ponder the options. "What kind of a day has he had? Meetings? Tours? Disciplinary action?" You ask Bastian thoughtfully. Sometimes when Diego has a bad day he likes comfort food. Mostly a giant heap of rice and beans next to homemade tortillas, he isn't so picky about the variety of meat.

Bastian glances at you out of the corner of his eye before warily answering, "There was a… termination… at a construction site this afternoon that took longer than expected. That's why he didn't come to get you, he wanted to shower first."

You keep your eyes focused forward to look out of the windshield. "Okay. How about Jalisco's then?" Comfort food it is.

Bastian nods and adjusts course to obtain those tortillas.

‐--------------------

The instant the elevator doors ding open Diego pops up from the sectional and comes straight at you. Your giant sidestep to let Bastian pass is barely completed before Diego is slipping those big hands under his own pilfered shirt to crush your body to him. Your arms go around his neck like a reflex, like this is their natural resting place. He leans his forehead down onto yours and kisses you so very gently.

"Mmmm. Hi." You murmur softly into his beard. Those bottomless brown eyes look over your entire face before coming back to your own. His smile is huge, those dimples make your pulse trip. He blinks slowly down at you, just like the big cat you nicknamed him after.

"Princess. How was the trip?" He always asks you this. You still aren't sure if its just culturally specific manners or if he is requesting a review of the flight crew's performance. Either way, your answer is always the same.

You pull him back down so you can cuddle into his neck. "Its better now that I'm here." He rubs his cheek against your own and purrs directly into your ear in response. Your body's reaction is immediate and decisive. You shiver in his arms and your nipples peak to full attention.

Except this time is different. With only a bralette and the dress's shelf bra Diego can clearly feel what just happened in real time. His eyes are comically round as he peers down at your cleavage in pleasant wonder.

"Oh. I like this outfit." His hands rise up your back to crush you further into him. You chuckle and rub your chest on his firm pectoral muscles. He watches hungrily as your compressed decolletage rises higher yet from the added pressure. "New rule to match the bedroom pants bar, no bras in the penthouse. Fucking magnificent, bonita." He licks his lips after making this proclamation.

You throw your head back and laugh joyfully.

‐----------------------

As it always does the weekend passes too quickly. Its already 1:00pm on Saturday when you two finally come down from the bedroom.

Diego is delighted to hear that your time-off request was approved for the trip. You had told him not to worry about it, your boss always kept her word about this stuff.

That’s when he pulls a ridiculous pith hat out from under the couch. It looks like it came straight out of a Looney Tunes cartoon about a big game hunt on the African savannah. You lose your entire shit and laugh until you do that silent clapping seal move.

Diego keeps repeating, "Wait, stop laughing. Stooooop." But he isn't faring much better. You finally wipe the tears and calm down enough to take it from his limp fingers while he chortles a few last times.

"Baby. What. What the fuck. What fucking is this??" You plunk the hat on your own head and Diego collapses facedown into your lap to gigglesnort uproariously. "Stop. Stop laughing. Stoppit!" You smack the back of his head lightly until he comes up for air.

He closes his eyes and composes himself. You take the opportunity to plop the hat on his head.

"Oh my god, that is so sexy!" You declare in high dramatics.

He grabs your hands and leans in very close to explain. "You need this hat for our trip." Your eyes narrow in suspicion. "You will wear it for our safari quest…" he pauses for dramatic effect and your lips twitch in suppressed amusement. He leans closer yet and captures your stare. His face is hilarious, you can tell he is biting his cheek to keep from laughing. His eyebrows are drawn down in concentration but his eyes are widened in mock excitement. He sucks in a deep breath to exclaim, "To locate palm trees in the wild!"

He laughs as he puts the hat back on you.

You blink a few times in shock. Palm trees? You're going somewhere with palm trees? A tropical locale. Palm trees. Beaches. SWIMSUITS. Your sudden panic must show on your face because Diego's laughter dies off.

You blink furiously, but its too little too late. The tears burn as they well up in your eyes and spill down over your cheeks.

He reaches out to cup your face. "Princess?" His tone is an even mix of concern and fear. "Bicki? What?"

You shake your head 'no' and throw yourself into him. Diego catches you and hauls you into his lap. You curl up against his chest and sob quietly. He pets over your hair, open handed strokes so his fingers don't tangle in the curls, and soothes your back while you shake. Rubbing his nose against your temple, he kisses your cheek and whispers, "Do you want to write?" His gentle care only makes you worse. "...so that is no." He looks crestfallen. He buries his face in your hair and breathes heavily.

Your tears are slowing and your chest is finally beginning to loosen. "Dieg-" you hiccup, wrapping both hands around his forearm. You wheeze a few times before trying again. "I. I. Where? Where are we g-going?"

He sighs deeply before answering. "Nowhere. I won't take you somewhere you don't want to go. I should have known better. I-" He snaps his jaw shut so fast that his teeth click together.

Tilting your head back, you try to catch his eyes. Diego won't look at you. "H-hey, please." You cup his jaw and pull him down to you. He comes, but the motions are stilted. "Look. Please, baby. Let me s-see you."

When he finally meets your eyes it breaks your heart. That chocolate gaze is disappointed, hurt, frustrated even. You wiggle around until you're straddling his lap. He just holds his hands out of the way, not hindering you but certainly not helping either. Standing up on your knees to lean your forehead against his, you reach for his hands and bring them to your chest where you lace your fingers together.

"Baby. I want that." Your nose rubs against his as you speak. "I want to go everywhere with you. I never thought I would ever get a chance like this. To travel? To go somewhere tropical? To have someone who loves me enough to do this for me?" You're crying again. And so is Diego? A little??

He brings your joined hands up to tap your chin. His face is adorably conflicted when he speaks, "You… want to go?" You nod slowly. His eyebrows lower as he tries to make sense of this. "Then why do you cry? Are they, the uh, is that 'happy tears' ?"

Your hands shake in his. "Yeah. Happy tears. I just. I was overwhelmed. I'm sorry." He huffs out a sigh. You continue, "Its almost like the super intense emotions short circuit my responses and I guess my default is panic crying? I don't know."

Diego huffs at you again. "Please stop that. I'm going to have a heart attack." There is a hint of real annoyance in his voice but his lips curl up at the corners.

You free your right hand to reach up and brush his wet lashes. Why did something this little bring him to tears? "Baby, is everything okay?"

He leans into your hand, then turns to kiss your fingers. You giggle, you can't help it, his beard both tickles and delights you. He smirks at you, "It is now, Princess. You should get dressed so we can go."

But you're not done here yet. "Where are we going on the trip? A place name, not foliage that may or may not be present."

His Cheshire cat grin is intriguing and mildly worrisome. He gives you one word, "Xcalak." And then watches while you access your mental map and pinpoint the exact location.

It takes you a moment but you find it with a gasp. "Costa Maya? Like Caribbean-sea side of Mexico??" He nods and you immediately start in with 20 Questions. "Are there cenotes? Is the water really those unreal colors? Is the food amazing there? Can we see ruins?"

Diego cups your face to stop you. "Whatever you like, little girl." With a kiss to your nose and a smack to your ass he ushers you upstairs to get dressed.

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

The shopping is less traumatic than normal for you thanks to Diego making enthusiastic innuendo nonstop and feeding you between stores. You find sandals, and flip flops, and little slip-on sneakers. All kinds of flowy maxidresses and flouncy skirts paired with new tank tops in buttery soft fabrics. Cover-ups and kimonos and huge airy loose knit sweaters get rung up with linen pants and shorts you actually feel comfortable wearing.

But swimsuits? A disaster. Everything that fits your hips is way too big for your ribcage. Tankinis big enough to go around your middle are about a foot too wide around your chest. You try some maternity stuff… amazingly there isn't any chest support. That confuses both of you for almost 20 minutes while you discuss it over croissants and various iced beverages (coffee for him and some kind of hot chocolate slushie for you).

Then you look across the street and inspiration hits. One of the stores you order bras from is right there and has bra-sized swimwear in the display window. Diego turns to see what stole your undivided attention from him and slaps his hand down on the table in celebration.

You aren't sure which one of you is more excited to get into the store. But while you run around exclaiming at all the things that come in your size Diego stands in the doorway and gawks. When you circle back to check on him he just points to one display wall.

There is lacy, frilly, corseted lingerie. In. Your. Size.

He demands one of everything that fits you and isn't red, brown, or yellow. You don't even argue.

The store does alterations and makes very good recommendations. The sales clerk is impressed with Diego's input, she comments that he really does seem to know your body well. You flush with it, glad that he isn't close enough to hear that. You leave with three bags and seven personalized swim outfits under construction. One is ready to wear and you keep reaching into the bag to touch it in wonder.

Diego notices but just gives you a raised eyebrow.

"This is the first time I've ever felt good about how I look in swimwear." You confess quietly.

Diego wraps a massive arm around your shoulders and tucks you into his side while you continue down the sidewalk.

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

Sunday is a mess as you try to make pancakes and Diego tries to remain physically attached to you like an excessively attractive barnacle. The pancakes are either burnt or still batter in the middle. Leftover carnitas and tortillas to the rescue. Diego teases you about the kitchen failure all day because this is the first time he has witnessed such a thing.

You doze on the couch under the pretense of "reading". Diego rotates through his laptop, cell, and the soccer match on ESPN+.

Until his phone rings.

You both tense up. Only one person calls him instead of texting. He takes the phone into the office to answer his sister. You wait on the couch to see which Diego you get back: silly tickle fight Diego, sad puppy dog eyes Diego that requires cuddles, or angry Diego that needs to fuck you through the nearest horizontal surface.

The elevator dings and Julio comes in with a tray of coffees. "Ay, Gordita. Buenas tardes. I got you the hibiscus thing you like." He greets you with a big smile, then looks around when he doesn't see Diego on the sectional with you.

Hopping up to help him carry stuff, you point to the office in indication of Diego's location. Julio makes a face, "Hermana perra?" and you simply nod. Julio takes Diego's iced coffee and bites the bullet for you. The door closes softly behind him.

You munch plantain chips and slurp hibiscus lemonade until they come out. Diego just looks tired when he comes back to you on the couch, coffee in hand. You open your arms in invitation and he plops next to you with a sigh. Cuddly Diego it is.

He doesn't tell you anything and you don't ask. Everyone watches the match mindlessly. Diego snores softly in your lap while you pet his hair.

He rides to the airport with you but you forbid him from coming onto the plane with you. He is already making this harder than it has to be with his big brown eyes and clingy hands.

"Baby." You breathe into his hair while he snuggles into your neck in the backseat of the SUV. "Its only a week. We do this every week." You pet down his bicep and immediately regret it.

"I know." Diego huffs into your skin. "Why don't you just quit? Let me take care of everything." You go through this almost every week now, too. He nuzzles you, the sensation makes you reconsider his proposal. You pull his head up by a fistful of soft hair and look him in the eye. He blinks guilelessly at you.

"Number one: No. Number two: Stoppit." He laughs at your fond exasperation. "Okay. I'm gonna go. You stay on the ground."

"Fine." He whines. "But I am going to send you a dick pic the moment that plane takes off." He crosses his arms as if daring you to tell him no.

You cup his stupidly attractive face in your hands for a kiss. Okay, several kisses and 27 minutes later, you respond, "Send me one every day. Its my favorite dick." His startled laugh makes you feel very pleased with yourself.

He pulls you into his arms again to kiss you one last time. His beard scratches and you sigh into him. Finally that tongue retreats and he rests his forehead on yours. His voice is low and rough, his hands squeeze tight on your hip and thigh, "I love you, Princess."

Will that ever stop hurting? You close your eyes against the burn of tears but smile with happiness. "I love you, Diego." You pop the door handle before you open your eyes to see him watching you, jaw tense. You stick your tongue out and he breaks into a smirk. With a laugh, you slide out of SUV and walk to the plane, determined not to look back.

When you get up the stairs the pilot greets you, but his gaze shifts behind you. Turning around, you see Diego standing outside the SUV, arms crossed and trying to look so not soft. You smile and mouth Bye baby, he gives you a short little wave. You duck into the plane before you can start crying.

The wheels are not, in fact, off the ground when the phone chirps.

‐-----------------------

The trip is a few weeks out and there is some kind of emergency at the San Diego docks the next weekend. So. You don't get your Murder Panther fix.

And your coworkers notice. They spend all day Monday strolling past your cubicle, straining their necks to see if you're wearing new shoes or some fresh bling. Finally someone has the nerve to ask how your weekend was.

You find yourself blinking back tears. I miss him so much. This is ridiculous, he just texted you at like six this morning. But its not just the conversation you miss, now is it? You miss that big body crowding you into the corner of the couch. His soft curls under your hands. That beard on literally any inch of your skin. Draping yourself over shoulders wider than your hips and knowing that not only can he take your weight, he likes it.

He says he wants to keep you and you desperately want to keep him. Why do you fear this? Is it just his profession? The risk? Oh god, how do you even go about introducing him to your parents??? Diego can be all kinds of charming but he can be a real asshole, too.

And they know what he is: A criminal. For your boomer parents he is the living embodiment of Public Enemy Number One.

Grand Theft.

Money Laundering.

Arson.

Murder.

International Cocaine Trafficking.

HE IS A LITERAL DRUG LORD.

You lay your head down on your desk and try to keep it together.

Your Diego Cell chirps.

Your laughter bubbles up until it comes out of you without your consent. It turns hysterical and you realize you need to leave the office suite. Now.

In the bathroom you stare down at the phone as it lights up again with another message.

Miss my Princess💔👑

How? How is someone who can do all those illegal things so nauseatingly sweet to me?

And then it hits you. Illegal. You didn't use the word immoral. Illegal. You think back to how everyone you see working directly for him is well into adulthood. No children. There are a few women but they are not being sold by him, they are there by their own free will. And he has never laid a hand on any of them, they're just as comfortable around him as the men are. No sex trafficking. You saw someone give their resignation last month. The dude walked away with a suitcase of cash for a decade of trustworthy service. Its a better retirement plan than what I have.

Have you seen him assault people? Yes. You've seen him stab people. Carve off someone's ear because they weren't listening as assigned and it cost the Jimenez Cartel a shipment. You've seen him push an informant down an empty elevator shaft. Choke a man into unconsciousness with his bare hands when you were disrespected.

And you still love him. Not a single one of those incidents weighs on your conscience. Your morality is a dingy grey 12 year old men's undershirt that you should just throw away but you're definitely going to cut into rags to keep for cleaning when it comes to Diego.

The cell lights up again.

Mi amor 💞😍🍑🏝✈⏲👙

You don't know what's worse: His excessive and ridiculous usage of emojis or the fact that you understood.

Look what came

The attached pic is a few pieces of your new swimwear. They look gorgeous, you can't even tell where the alterations were done.

You have to try on all of them. And show me

Of course he wants his own personal show. You feel desire burning low in your belly. Its been a year and not once has he ever shied away from your stomach rolls or hinted at weight loss. He never questions the food you order. And while the two of you have chuckled about shapewear he has never mocked you for using it. Or seemed disappointed when you opted not to wear it. He tosses you around like its nothing and prefers for you to sleep on top of him. Its not that he loves you despite your weight, he loves it as part of you.

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

Its now Thursday and the desk drawer where you keep your purse at work is vibrating. He knows I'm at work. If he calls right back I'll answer him. You try to keep your Diego Cell out of sight at work or you'll never get anything done. Plus your coworkers are always dying to catch a peek of your infamous sugar daddy/boyfriend.

Yeah. Boyfriend. Keep practicing that. It feels good.

You finish the insurance call and hang up your headset when the vibrating starts again. Your next door cubicle neighbor pops around the divider to advise you to answer that before he comes down here and abducts you.

What deity should I pray to for that??

You snatch Diego Cell and march out to the hall. Poking the green button, you answer the call.

"Baby. You okay?"

"Princess! I… yeah. I'm not hurt."

He sounds odd. There is definitely something going on here.

"What's up? You need me?"

The silence stretches.

"Yes. Please?"

Diego sounds very uncomfortable. It causes you physical pain.

"Well, you have me. What is it?"

You can hear him swallow and in your mind you picture him looking away, hiding some soft emotion shining in his eyes.

"Baby?"

"Here. I am here. I just. I just wanted to hear you."

Something is very wrong with my Murder Panther, you think.

"Babe," your voice is soft, you're trying to ease him. "Can you tell me what's wrong?"

He huffs and you can hear him scrape a hand down over his face. "I know you are at work. And I should not have called. But."

His voice trembles, even over the phone you can hear it. He's afraid.

"Diego. If you need me, then you have me. Tell me, baby." You try to be reassuring but you also really need to know what is wrong.

"I would like to come down there." His declaration is overly formal. You wonder who he is trying to impress. Its certainly not me.

"You… want to come down here instead of me going up there this weekend?" You're trying to make sense out of any part of this conversation.

"I…. grrrrrrrrr." He growls in frustration. Between English being his second language and your sensory processing issues, this is not an uncommon occurrence. He sucks in a deep breath and charges forward in an emotional rush. "I know you're working, but I want to come down there because I miss seeing your face." Before you have a chance to answer he adds, "Pick me up? At the airport, after work? Please, Bicki." His voice cracks at the end and his inhalation is ragged. Your heart implodes.

"Diego. Baby. Of course. Of course I will. I can be there by six." You have a mental flash of how dirty your bathroom is, all the clothes you have laying around, and the vacuum you haven't touched in over a month. Diego needing me is more important.

"Good. Good. Yes, I. I will text you. When I land." His voice is raspier than ever, low and gravelly.

"Sure. I'll be there." I'll always be there.

"Okay. You… you should go." You can hear his determination. You can visualize him squaring his shoulders and setting his jaw, taking on the Jimenez Cartel persona.

"Hey." He grunts in acknowledgement. "I love you." You blurt it out before you have a chance to talk yourself round in circles. You can hear voices in the background.

"And you. You as well." The call ends, but you know.

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

You're sitting in your car at the little regional airport second guessing the coffee you got when the phone chirps.

Here

Springing out of the car, you wave to the security guard as you trot past. "Hey Jim, I just have to grab someone real quick. That's okay, right?" You wave vaguely back toward your car parked in the fire lane. There are only four security guards who work here and they all know you at this point.

Jim laughs but waves you on. "Go get 'im, sweetie." Jim must be pushing 90 by now, he doesn't care about traffic laws.

You enter one of the two sets of automatic doors on this entire building and cross through the tiny lobby. There. You can see his dark hair and ridiculous shoulders over a completely unnecessary row of potted plants. He must hear your echoing footsteps because his head whips around in alarm, but his face relaxes into a wide smile. He lengthens his strides to come around the stupid plants, hands automatically reaching out for you.

"Diego." You laugh breathily and fling arms around his neck. He smells so good.

He crushes you to his chest and buries his face in your neck. "Printhesss." He murmurs into you, slurred because he refuses to remove his mouth from your skin.

Turning your head to kiss his cheek, you moan shamelessly for him. He surges back upward to capture your lips and kiss you with mild desperation. That devious tongue sweeps over the roof of your mouth before curling up behind your top front teeth.

Your entire world narrows down to Diego. Chocolate. Tastes like the smoothest Belgian chocolate in existence. He smells perfect, clean but definitively male to you. His silky button-down is smooth under your hands, stretched taut over muscle. Those massive hands gather you closer, molding you to that big, solid body. His beard scratches your face in soft tickles when he alters the angle of the kiss just so.

"Goddamn." A woman's voice exclaiming somewhere behind you catapults you back into the here and now. Which is a dinky little regional airport in rural central Pennsylvania. You know, a very public location in a very prudish area of the country. Fuck.

You pull back and Diego's hands shoot up to the back of your head. Holding you in place, he leans his forehead against yours with a contented sigh. He rumbles softly to you, "Take me home."

You feel so silly seeing Diego in the passenger seat of your Corolla, he just seems so out of place. "You can adjust the seat however, nobody really sits there. I just put it all the way back to make sure you can get in without cracking your head." You sound nervous even to your own ears.

Diego turns to you with a response but his attention is captured by the cup holders in the center console, specifically the Dunkin Donuts styrofoam cup. He points to it, then looks up at you with a slow grin. "Princess. Is this for me?"

You flush but can't stop the embarrassed little smile so you cover it with sass, "Well, it sure as hell ain't for me." You start the car and give Jim a little wave. He winks and gives you two thumbs up. Yeah, I'm aware that you saw that kiss too, old man. Everyone saw that shit.

When Diego reaches for the coffee his fingers brush your hip. The contact burns and you suddenly remember that you have not touched this beautiful man for well over two weeks. Apparently he remembers, too, because he wraps that huge hand around your thigh with rather a lot of force. Right hand slapping down to cover his, your heart rate jumps through the roof. Did I take my blood pressure pill this morning?

"Don't." You choke out.

He rumbles softly next to you, purring with conceited pleasure. "Did my Princess miss Diego?" He asks you with an incredibly pornographic voice.

"Oh, fuck you." Your answering groan is also obscene. So glad the windows are up.

His hoarse chuckle makes your thighs tremble. "You're Diego's good little girl, you will." He's right and you both know it. You would ride him right here in your own damn car if he demanded it. You have a problem.

He lets you redirect his hand to the coffee with only a little resistance. "Focus." You hiss.

"Me or you?" Diego quips.

"Yes." You declare.

Diego's guffaw is contagious and you don't even try to hold back.

Your apartment always seems like an adequate size until Diego is inside. No, bad Bicki. Do not say it like that. His presence just sort of… lounges about in a vaguely threatening but highly attractive manner. Much like the actual man on your couch. You tried to pick up dinner on the way but he just wanted to 'go home'. You are disgustingly happy that your place feels like home to him.

Diego had flopped on your couch immediately and hasn't moved since. Something is very definitely very wrong. There were bursts of your Murder Panther in the car, but he has been just subdued overall. He had turned your stereo up and smiled faintly, watching you sing along. He had also complained that the stereo in your car sucked (Agreed) and this was unacceptable. You're sure he'll do something ridiculously extravagant to remedy this.

You try to give him the remote, he takes it but doesn't do anything with it. You offer him food, both junk and something home-cooked, all you get is a shrug. You putter around for a while, picking things up and sighing before putting them down somewhere else. His dark eyes watch you, unfathomable.

Finally you disappear to the bedroom only to return in your pajamas. This he likes, perking up and blinking rapidly. "Okay, I know you brought something softer than those jeans, so get comfy so I can order shitty pizza and cuddle you."

His jaw drops in momentary shock. Then he scoffs, "I do not cu--"

You cut him off, "Yes, you do and yes, you're going to. Up. Now." This has to be hilarious. This short little woman in overly long pants barking orders at the massive man who heads an international drug cartel. Well, its either hilarious or fatal. I'm about to find out.

Diego looks around, as if someone else might secretly be here to witness him be a little bit submissive and moderately soft. He raises his chin in a tiny show of defiance. "Fine. But I am showering first." He glares with this proclamation, daring you to contradict him.

You throw your hands up in the air. Why the fuck would I have a problem with that?? His eyes follow your hands, like a cat when you try to point out a bit of food but all it does is rub your finger. You sigh, resigned to your fate. "Of course that's fine, Diego. You know where everything is, have at it."

You watch his butt as he walks away to the bathroom.

The pizza actually isn't shitty and Diego eats half of it by himself. When you offer him the cinnamon dessert sticks he shoots you a calculating look. You split the contents, pulling two sticks over to yourself and piling up the rest in front of him. His delighted grin is decidedly not calculated and you lose track of time watching him enjoy dessert.

He's beautiful like this. He wears a soft, silky t-shirt that is tight enough to help you get through the nights you spend alone. His hair is a riot of fluffy curls, free of product and clearly trying to break free of gravity, too. He hasn't shaved for at least a few days and that salt and pepper beard is filling in nicely. His face is unguarded, expression open, those laugh lines and dimples you love make frequent appearances.

After dinner you lay all over each other in some weird we-have-intimacy-issues approximation of cuddling. It works so you don't question it. He has his laptop and you have your tablet and together you have sporadic conversation. Its comfortable.

Until Diego asks you a seemingly innocuous question that you know is very nefarious:

"What color do you like in cars?"

Your eyes narrow so much that you have trouble seeing. "...Why." Your low tone might be frightening to anyone else.

He looks at you over the laptop screen, brown eyes innocently wide. "Just curious. Your car is green. Do you like any other colors?" He slowly pulls the laptop closer to himself to subtly cover the screen with his bulk.

"Diego." You slowly put down your tablet and start leaning toward him. He has nowhere to go, propped up in the corner of the chaise end of the sofa. "What. Are. You. Doing."

"Will you let me take care of you? Just in this one way right now?" He licks his lips, brow furrowed in concentration. Building desperation shows in his eyes and you can't fight that. You don't want to win this.

"Let me see, baby." Your sighed acquiescence has an instantaneous effect. Diego drops the tension from his shoulders and opens an arm to you in invitation. You crawl up him to cuddle into his chest, wedged on your side between all those muscles and the back of the sectional. From here you are stationed directly in front of the laptop screen.

He is looking at cars.

Armored cars.

Armored, bulletproof, explosive resistant cars.

What. The. Fuck.

"Diego, what the fuck is going on?!?" Your apprehensive demand sets him right back on edge. You can feel him go tense underneath you. The laptop gets shoved onto an empty cushion as you throw yourself over him. Tiny hands land on those broad shoulders with extreme force as you use all of your deadweight to trap him. Below you, Diego shakes but you can't tell if its from anger or anxiety because his eyes are scrunched closed tightly. "Tell me why I need a fucking bulletproof car!"

He surges up into your face to match your volume, "She knows! Mi hermana perra knows about you! Alicia found out about us!" You lurch back in shock, but the steel hands on your hips stop you from retreating. His voice is hoarse, louder than you've ever heard him, and its terrifying. Your fear must show because he releases his grip on you like it burns.

"WHAT?" The ramifications here could truly be lethal. Alicia has already tried to set Diego up to take the fall when they were arrested almost four months ago. You know she has scorned Diego's familiarity with his men in the past, that is why he handpicks them personally. To Alicia, everyone is disposable, even her own brother. Her only loyalty is to herself.

Diego's hands come up in an aborted reach for you. You're still too shocked to move. His face crumbles in agony and he blinks furiously, hands balling into fists. "Everything I have ever wanted she has ensured I never got. She, she manipulates me into destroying everything I touch. I will not let her hurt you! I refuse to allow her to break us, mi amor!!" His volume has steadily escalated until he is yelling.

He's afraid. He is afraid that he will lose me. The realization emboldens you enough to take his hands in your own, bring them to your chest, and press them close to your heart. You trust that he won't hurt you in his rage. You don't fear him, this dangerous, powerful, ruthless man that you love.

His hands open to slide up your shoulders, curl around your neck, and his thumbs glide over the pulse point under your ears. He brings your face to his own, his expression twisted up with fear and anger and possession and love.

"You are mine! And I will keep you!"

You realize everything that you have been debating with yourself, all of your pro versus con lists, your stupid little dry erase board covered in sticky notes with your fears, your scribbled timeline of events and possible future predictions, none of it matters. All you care about is the man in your arms. Diego is the most important thing in your life and you can't imagine a life without him. If you had to give up everything to keep him, you would do it in a heartbeat.

Your hands grip tightly around his wrists and you consciously straighten your spine. Expression hardening, your eyes open to meet his anguished gaze.

"I want black."

The armored 2020 Camry is delivered that Sunday. You thank him for finding something inconspicuous with an upgraded JBL sound system and he compliments your understated color choice of Black Sand Metallic. By the time you drop him off at the airport that evening you've managed to replace the new car smell with something better and you're thankful that the leather seats just wipe clean. Monday morning in the parking lot at work, however, is a literal ordeal.

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

The next two weeks feel like they’re seven months long. You clock out at noon on Thursday to a chorus of your coworkers making vaguely lewd remarks and howling with laughter about your vacation. 'Two whole weeks on a beach in Mexico with an absolutely loaded hottie' is what they've been repeating gleefully all week.

You turn around and walk backwards to give them finger guns, "Yes," then you reach down to adjust your pants, "And YES." Their squeals are contagious and you're still laughing when you burst out the front doors to drive home.

You turn the volume waaaay too high in the car so that your teeth vibrate and it feels like you're having heart palpitations. I love this fucking car and I love that man.

There is a rental Tahoe parked in the grass next to the huge gravel driveway at your farmhouse, but he left the second assigned parking space next to your Corolla open so you can park The Beast (as you have affectionately named your new ride) appropriately while away. When you get out of the car you glance up instinctively, Diego is standing outside your front door on the small third floor balcony laughing.

"Are you deaf yet, Princess?" He hollers down in amusement.

You flip him off with the middle finger that wears the gemstone ring he gave you while yelling back, "WHAAAAT??"

His laughter fades as he disappears inside, leaving the door wide open to let out all the cold air. Were you raised in a barn?? Close the door, the electric bill-- You cut off your own thoughts when you suddenly remember that you haven't been paying that electric bill for the last six months. Nevermind.

Before you can start up the stairs, Sara, your first floor neighbor, appears on the porch with their toddler. "Hey stranger!" Sara waves with a big smile and the kid does the same but with some kind of unidentifiable kitchen utensil in hand. "That is your boyfriend, right? He had a key so I didn't think it was your ex but I wanted to make sure. I mean, from what I just saw it is your boyfriend. Also, holy shit, that's your boyfriend?"

If she says the word 'boyfriend' one more time I'm going to spontaneously combust.

"Uh yeah, definitely not my ex. Sorry, I forget that you guys haven't really seen him before, I meant to tell you he was coming." You can feel your face burning and it isn't from the August sun. Sara fans her own face with a hand while mouthing 'he's hot' like you're somehow unaware. You forge on before she can start gushing aloud. "We're actually leaving on a trip tonight so I'll be gone for the next two weeks."

Now Sara drops the kid and scrambles over to whisper fiercely to you, "Oh my god, seriously? Where are you going? Wait, this is the same guy you've been going to see in New York, right? How long has it been, like a year? Is he taking you on a trip for your anniversary? I don't even know his name. Oh my god, that is so sweet!"

Okay, down girl. You're not sure who you're trying to will into being chill, Sara or yourself.

"Um, we're going to Mexico. And yeah, he's the guy in New York. It's just a vacation." You don't even touch the relationship questions with a ten foot pole. You glance up but Diego is still inside, Thank fuck.

Sara hops a little in excitement. "I'm sooo jealous!" She squeals. "You have to take a ton of pictures! I need to see! Oh my god, I bet you guys are such a cute couple!" You nod and start backing away, trying to wave goodbye so you can climb the stairs and then climb Diego. "Ooh ooh, wait, what's his name?" Sara hisses conspiratorially. "Does he speak Mexican? Is he Mexican!?!"

You suddenly remember why you tried to move away from this area. Repeatedly. "Yeah, he's Mexican and yes, he speaks Spanish." You sigh. Sara nods but continues staring at you expectantly. Fine. "His name is Diego."

Sara makes a stupid face like this is a rom-com movie. I cannot take anymore, you must shut the fuck up. "Okay, okay. I won't hold you up. But seriously, we can have a 'pics and wine' girls' night when you come back!" She waves maniacally before snatching up the kid and skipping back inside.

I can't think of anything I would like less. Oh hell no.

You climb the stairs in record time before she can come back outside and start talking again.

Bastian, Julio, and a third man you don't know are in your living room. You do not care and your vague wave shows it. You can hear Julio's warm 'Gordita!' greeting as you spin around and march to the bedroom.

Diego is standing at your bed, tucking TMP into your small duffel, when you burst through the doorway and continue at full speed directly into him. He laughs breathlessly but holds steady against your weight. "Princess. Are you ready?"

You take overflowing fistfuls of his shirt, bury your face in his chest, suck in a huge lungful of air, and shriek at full volume.

"Uhhh...that is a yes, si?" He mutters uncertainly above you.

You rear back to look up at him with a smile so wide it hurts.

"Oh good." His hands come to your shoulders while those beautiful brown eyes sparkle. The dimples and laugh lines come out as he absorbs your infectious excitement. Your hands shoot up to his hair to yank him down so you can crash your mouths together with bruising force.

The effect is immediate. He moans loudly and crushes you against him. You dig nails into his neck and you lick your way into his mouth, his hands snake down to your ass to hold tight. Your left leg comes up as you try to wrap it around his hips. With a pained groan he rips those lips off of yours and pulls back. Undeterred, you move on to assaulting his now bared throat, moaning like porn come to life.

"Princess," he gasps, "You have to sto-- uhhh, yes, bonita. Your fucking tongue." You're too busy licking his adam's apple to pay attention to words right now. "Nooo, mi amor, please, lo siento, stopstopstop." You get in one last nip of his collarbone as he pulls your head back via a handful of ringlets. His pupils are blown wide and he's panting hard. You stare longingly at his delectable mouth while making pitiful whines.

"Please, baby, pleeeease. You're all I've thought about for days. I need you!" You try shameless begging, you're certainly not lying. Petting over his shoulders and down that solidly muscled chest, you shudder and try to pull yourself back to him.

He closes his eyes with a grimace. "Flight! Fuck you on the flight!" He croaks, then yanks your hair harder than you like. The pain clears the fog just enough for you to blink back to awareness. You nod jerkily and step back. "Have to leave now to get there before dark." He explains in a rushed huff. You blink as you remember how time works.

"Right. Yeah, right. Okay. Okay." Straightening to attention you yank off the cardigan you wore for the air conditioning at work, leaving you in a tank top and ready to be productive. Focus on not-dick.

Diego shoves your favorite notepad in your face so you can see your packing list and not him. The distraction works. He has checked off every item in each categorized list but left the strike through action for your completion. You lower the notepad until you can make eye contact with him and intensely whisper, "You know I fuckin' love you, right?"

He laughs so hard he has to sit down on the bed.

You go through every bag, touching each item and crossing it off your list one at a time. He did it. Everything but you.

"You know I don't need TMP, right?"

"Why?" He squints up at you from where he lounges across your bed.

Your face heats up and you clear your throat. "Well, its, I'm. I have, uh, you. So I don't need anything else." The realization of how true that is in every sense gives both of you pause.

Diego surges upright to cup your face and bonk your foreheads together just a little too hard. You giggle and he huffs.

"Mi amor…" he sighs for you, eyes closing in pleasure. You 'mmmmm' in response. Then his eyes snap open and he growls an order, "Get changed so we can go!" And punctuates it with a stinging slap to your ass.

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

You spend the flight with your face pressed to the window, vibrating in excitement, except for a brief intermission of seven orgasms in the bathroom.

The unknown third man is Joey, Bastian's boyfriend. Joey is even quieter than Bastian and just as cute. They're not overly demonstrative but clearly comfortable moving around each other. Joey works in "Packaging" and does an admirable job of ignoring his cartel drug lord boss being snuggly. Julio naps.

The customs agent at the Cancun airport looks you up and down with wide eyes but stamps your passport with no questions. Its a five hour drive to Xcalak but Diego is adamant it can be done in three. You give him an eyebrow question which he dismisses with a vague wave, "They paved the road all the way to the southern border last year."

Uhh, they what now? You understand soon enough. The drive drastically changes outside of Cancun. The scenery is both beautiful and heartbreaking. There are occasional mansions with armed guards, high fences, and SUVs like your own current ride. Mostly though, its shacks and people on foot or riding bicycles, weaving to avoid stray dogs and huge iguanas. Could I handle this as my daily reality?

The first time the road sidles right up to the ocean you have a small meltdown.

"Is that what I think it is?" Your soft whisper is accompanied by a shaking hand pointing to the left. Diego, crammed into the middle of the backseat between yourself and Julio so you could have an unobstructed view, indicates an order for Bastian to pull over. He reaches across you and pops open your door. You slide out with his hand on your lower back and take about a dozen steps to the lapping water. Diego appears to your right, watching you intently.

"Its gre-e-e-en!" Your stuttering squeal is accompanied by happy tears and you fling yourself into Diego with joy. He laughs at you, but hugs you back just as tightly.

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

The first week passes in a blur of amazing food, warm green sea, fruity drinks, and shirtless wet Diego. And so many orgasms that you can't keep count. Diego is all over you non-stop, more than he ever has been before (Astonishingly). Its incredible and you feel like the only person in the world. If he's not molesting you then he is at least touching you; keeping you in his lap, holding your hand, cuddling and petting and snuggling like a man obsessed.

You love it. You love him. You love this life.

On Saturday he lets you lead him through the tiny town, your Spanish improving by leaps and bounds as you try to navigate the streets and alleys and shops. The four years of high school Spanish actually prove useful as you manage to complete a purchase all by yourself. Your playful mock smugness evaporates under the blazing desire in his eyes.

He drags you back to the casita in a much shorter and more direct route than you took upon earlier departure. You're marched directly to the bed and he puts one massive hand in the middle of your chest to gently push you down onto your back. There is something different about this, something important in his eyes. Your voice is high and soft, "Diego?"

He climbs up between your legs and leans down to kiss you senseless. It goes on forever; soft lips, scratchy beard, silky tongue, and nothing but the taste of Diego. Your moans and sighs are mixed together, there are moments when you can't tell who is making what noise. His hands are shaking as he strokes every inch of newly bared and sunburnt sensitive skin while undressing you.

It takes repeated attempts, but you finally get him naked, too. The sight never fails to take your breath away. All that soft, and now freshly tanned, skin is like velvet to your touch. You're mesmerized by his muscles flexing and then evening out as he moves above you. He finally gets your linen pants untangled off your left foot and flings them across the room with unnecessary force. Your soft peals of laughter light up his face and it brings tears to your eyes. You reach a hand out to him, "Diego. Baby."

He comes up over you, threading fingers into your hair, kissing you slowly and thoroughly. You can feel him against you, fire hot and mouth wateringly hard, but he makes no move to take you. Your eyes open in hazy confusion as the kiss ends. Diego is watching your face, blinking back tears.

He is holding your head still, hands like steel. Whatever this is, he needs it. And you want to give him everything he needs. Forever.

You're captured by his eyes, bottomless, soulful, and hungry. His raspy voice is soft and trembling with desire. "I love you, Bicki. I want everything. Forever, Princess?"

Your chest compresses and your heart implodes. Scalding tears escape when you blink and you're nodding before you even know it. "Yes, Diego. Yes, baby, I'm yours."

Your back arches off the bed as he comes home and brings you with him.

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

You wake up crushed under Diego. The sun is still up so you might be able to talk him into going out for dinner. You rub your cheek on the huge bicep doubling as your pillow and Diego sighs directly into your ear from where he is spooned up behind you. Oh yeah, we should have done this waaaay sooner.

He nuzzles your neck just to incite squirmy giggles and you don't even fight it. "I have something for you, Princess. Stay here." He pulls away and you whine about the loss of your pillow. His low chuckle burns you alive with want. "Stay like that. Do not move." You obey while you listen to him rummage around behind you.

He comes around to your side of the bed, still completely and unabashedly nude. Hell. Fucking. Yes. You love it. He hands your glasses over and you slide them on to take in the now high definition view of naked Murder Panther. The view disappears as he kneels down next to the bed so you're on eye level. His expression is very peculiar.

His hands slowly come up to reveal a small box of black velvet. Time slows to a halt as he opens the box and presents it to you.

Inside is a ring. Gleaming in platinum and sparkling with three tastefully large princess cut diamonds.

Its an engagement ring.

Diego is proposing.

He swallows hard and rumbles gruffly, "Now remember, you already said y--"

You cut him off with a shriek. "YES! YESYESYES!!"

In the time it takes him to blink twice with surprise you're on him. Arms around his neck, you throw yourself into his lap. He topples backwards and you ride him to the floor, already bawling hysterically.

He stares up at you in shock as you nod furiously and cry all over him. "Princess. You… you are certain?" If this were any other time you would be howling with laughter at his huge eyes and lax jaw.

Your answer is stuttery but determined. "Y-y-yeah. Put it-t-t-t on me already!"

He laughs in delight at your order and the imperious presentation of your shaking left hand. The ring glides on easily, a perfect fit. It gleams up at you blindingly. After a moment of admiration you lace your fingers with his and sigh at the union. His other hand comes up to roughly brush away your tears. "I know you do not like labels so much… but, you will be my, my married... Person. Thing?"

You stroke his bearded cheek in return, thumb lingering on that dimple. With a hard gulp you dive in head first. Fuck it.

"Yes, Diego. I will be your wife."

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

The next time you wake it is dark out. You reach for a phone on the nightstand to your left and jump when you find one with a loud crack. Diego pops upright behind you, instantly on high alert. "Princess?" He hisses while covering your body with his own.

You gigglesnort, then meekly answer him, "I forgot about the ring and whacked a phone. Everything's okay, baby."

He sighs so deeply that his breath ruffles your hair. "Jesus fucking christ, woman. You are a menace." He flops down on top of you and snuggles back into your warmth.

You reach back with your left hand and grope blindly for his face. He licks your fingers as soon as they're in reach and you stuff them into his mouth as retaliation. He just sucks languidly.

"Mmmmmm, I'm your menace, baby. And I have to pee." He nips your fingers but rolls over to free you. You slide out of the bed and stretch your arms high while arching your back. Diego groans painfully. "What?"

Diego rises to all fours on the bed while the sheet slithers off of him. "You forget that other people can see without glasses, huh?" You cock your head and realize that you have a shadow.

It's a full moon. And I just stretched naked in front of a sliding glass door. "Oh. Huh. I guess I do forget. Oops. I'll be sure to keep that in mind now." Your seemingly tame answer is directly contradicted by the exaggerated roll of your hips that makes your butt bounce when you walk off.

"Fucking menace, woman." Diego growls as you push the bathroom door shut with a trill of laughter.

You never do go back to bed but you do wind up on the beach in front of the casita to watch the sunrise. Julio finds you both snuggled together late the next morning, still asleep on the covered daybed under the palms while the rising tide comes ever closer. At least Julio has the decency to cover your bare ass with a beach towel.

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

By the time you think to check your phone gallery you have… 1,792 pictures. WHAT THE FUCK.

You scroll through the pics, there are a lot you do not remember taking. Was I that drunk or did Diego take some of these? One is a close up of your ass from below wearing a string bikini, I knew I wasn't that drunk. The next pic is Diego asleep on a lounge chair, one arm curled up above his head, muscles glistening in the sun, and swim trunks so low on his hips that it's almost obscene. Immediately following that is the same pic but with your own face photobombing about three inches away from the camera and giving a thumbs up with your left hand so your engagement ring is prominently visible. Oh yeah, I remember that one.

There are videos, too. The first one is Diego making lewd comments while you twerk in the ocean for about ten seconds. Okay, that's par for the course with us. Next is you successfully backflipping off of Diego's shoulders into the green water to everyone freaking out. Shit, even I'm impressed with myself. After that is video of you gagging through a dish of octopus at some restaurant. Both of you are clearly visible in the shot so Julio must have had the phone. Betrayal.

There are tens of dozens of the two of you in various poses and outfits, both disgustingly happy and blatantly in love. There's even a role reversal shot of Diego sprawled across your lap, one enormous arm wrapped around your neck and his knees over your own arm while you grimace and he laughs hysterically. The table to your right is covered in empty bottles and mostly finished drinks. An entire subsection depicts you asleep like you have a stalker. You count no less than 29 of you two trying on increasingly ridiculous hats in random stores.

You can't even keep count of all the close ups of a smoldering Murder Panther. You feel no guilt. Aren't you supposed to be ridiculously attracted to your fiancé??

Fiancé.

You have a fiancé. Your fiancé is Diego. You are engaged to Diego Rafael Jimenez.

I have to explain this ring to everyone. They'll have questions about him. People will want pictures. How do I explain what he does?? Oh my god, there's no closet here. I have to… find somewhere. And I can't I can't. Its-

Your head jerks upright when something touches your hair. Its Diego. Kneeling on the floor in front of you, he has unfurled a sheet over you to block out everything, and he waits there, watching you. Before you realize it your hands are reaching for his shoulders, just the feel of him, warm and solid under your hands, calms you.

Slowly, his right hand comes up to cover your left. "No closet, Princess." His huge fingers grip yours tightly. You nod a little. He just watches you, eyes guarded.

"Ask. Go ahead." You mutter. You can tell from his posture that he is uneasy, apprehensive.

He locks eyes with you and his gaze is intense. He curls all of his fingers around your left ring finger. "Still yes?"

The fear in his eyes breaks your heart. Your voice is shaky but determined, "No. You can't get rid of me. I'm your problem now, baby." His expression would make a meeker woman cower in fear, you laugh weakly.

He settles down on the tile floor in front of you, with the sheet over both of you. Its like four in the afternoon and I am sharing a blanket fort with my cartel boss fiancé while on vacation in Mexico. What even is my life? His elbows are on his knees, chin in hand. He studies you for a minute, you stare right back. He raises one eyebrow and you sigh in capitulation.

"I don't know how to just be happy. I suck at it." You shrug but reach for his face. Diego nuzzles into your hand while you stroke your thumb over his beard.

"Habby isz nawt a berb." He slurs into your palm with a soft kiss.

The epiphany is like a cinder block to the brain.

He's right. I don't have to 'do' anything. I'm happy right now. I've been happy every time I'm with him. And no one had to exert any effort.

People can define themselves. People can define their relationships. Why can't they define their own normal? I can make my own rules. Especially with someone like Diego as my partner.

His one eyebrow slowly rises as he watches your thoughts play out across your face. "You back?" He asks with a hidden smirk, you know its there from the way his eyes crinkle with laugh lines.

"Yup!" Is your decisive answer. Diego licks your palm. "I got better places you can lick, baby." You answer his smirk with a waggling eyebrow.

The rest of the afternoon passes in a blur of play wrestling and inappropriate noises.

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

You do, in fact, go on a safari. Of sorts. Tours of ruins and jungle and cenotes, lots of side quests because the both of you are easily distracted by pretty colors. You probably added another thousand pictures of various palm trees to your gallery. The hat makes multiple appearances.

Diego has to ship a crate home to New York because he bought you too many souvenirs. You laugh and tease him when he wants to pick out things for your middle sister and niece, until you hear his logic.

"They were nice to me." He murmurs with a little half-shrug, "It was like being in a real family for a little bit." He studies the bins of painted shells on display in the little store with way too much focus.

You spend a moment deliberating before you decide to reach out and touch his elbow.

"Hey," your soft voice brings his gaze your way momentarily before he goes back to ceramic turtle magnets. You take his hand with your own right and rest your left hand on his chest. Diego looks down where your ring glints in the light, then up to your face. "You know you're going to be part of that 'real' family, right?"

Diego's boyish little smile is heartbreakingly adorable.

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

The flight home is much shorter than you want it to be and you spend most of it asleep on Diego. At one point you wake up to see Bastian and Joey cuddled up together napping. When you look up from where your head is resting in Diego's lap he is already looking down at you with an unreadable expression.

"What?" You whisper softly. You stifle a yawn and blink repeatedly.

Diego strokes one big hand over your hair and grips your jaw firmly. With a huge toothy grin he answers, "Mine."

"Uh huh. How many times you need me to say yes, baby?" You smirk up at him with an arched brow. He seems to be reveling in hearing you readily admit your commitment to him.

He considers your question carefully while his other hand trails down the front of your body under a blanket. I don't remember having a blanket earlier. Finally, Diego settles on "Every day. At least seven times. Seven is a good number, right Princess?"

Your body jerks as his fingers press between your thighs with steady determination. Your eyes flick over to Bastian and Joey, still out cold. You make a show of wiggling around to get comfortable, and, surprisingly, that involves spreading your legs. "Yessss." You hiss up at him.

Julio reclines his seat and exaggeratedly covers his face with a new hat.

Seven is a very good number.

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

Your first day back to work is a circus. You don't think twice about your normal greeting as you enter the office suite. You swipe your badge with your right hand and pop the door, then wave 'hi' to everyone. Like usual. With your left hand.

There is an excessive amount of squealing that makes you second guess going into a female dominated field. The whole day is a wash because you have a steady stream of people passing through your cubicle. You're glad you had the forethought to curate a photo album of appropriate images to show your coworkers despite Diego's repeated attempts to sneak a dick pic in there somewhere. You most definitely included the glistening swim trunks lounge chair picture. Squealing intensifies.

Everyone comments on the hat and you're forced to tell the story of the hat. How you once told Diego that you wanted to see palm trees, 'But like, in the wild.' And Diego had laughed so hard that he fell off the bed only to pop back up wheezing about a 'Palm Tree Safari' until you smacked him in the face with a pillow. Your coworkers think it is just disgustingly adorable that he never let you live that down.

Your coworkers have questions:

When is the wedding?

Where are you having it?

What kind of dress do you want?

What are your colors?

Are you going to do flowers?

What about the cake?

Who is your maid of honor?

How did your family take the news?

What about his family?

Are you going to New York?

Will you take his name?

Oh shit. I forgot about the whole 'wedding' part of this.

#damnit diego #murder panther #rough me up then dick me down #24 fucking 7 hours in this house #zash writes #all the feels #so gross #soft murder panther #melty princess

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