Tumgik
#enough to earn her a seat in lawful neutral
Note
#lmk if you want more analyses like this #i had a lot of fun with it #i started imagining other personality indicators #like dnd alignment #or astrology signs - i am 👀👀👀👀ing these tags
👀👀👀👀
Tumblr media
124 notes · View notes
wambsgansshoelaces · 4 months
Text
Turmoil; Chapter 1
Roman Roy x fem!Reader -read the rest here!
Prompt: slowburn romantic drama, arranged marriage plot line
a/n: thank you to anon for requesting! if you requested this fic, please tell me so I can tag you! I apologize if this reads as unrealistic or too dramatic- but please let me know your thoughts!
Word Count: 2.358k
Tumblr media
Nothing. You’d turned yourself into something from nothing.
You’d ended up in New York on your own, running from your past, vying for a fresh start. With a degree from Harvard law in your pocket and an unsatiated hunger for success, it only took one case to change your fortune.
Your boss had pawned the case off on you because it seemed impossible. A man charged for real property fraud, and heaps of evidence to prove it. You initially thought you’d pawn the case off to some other schmuck, until you’d been given an anonymous tip and found a discrepancy in a bit of evidence that unraveled the opposition’s entire case.
It was a massive win- not just for you, but for your entire firm -and it came with a massive raise.
A few years later, you’d amassed an egregious amount of money in total and even more respect from those around you, so you quit and founded your own firm. You’re thankful for everything you have. You stay humble, you’re likable, and you make sure everyone in your employment is as well. It keeps you afloat- New York loves you, but more importantly, they trust you.
It earns you millions.
You’re happy with the life you lead. You frequent charity events, donating whenever you can, staying kind. You know what kindness can feel like during a period of misery. You remember what relief felt like when extended a hand, so you extend yours whenever you can.
You help the people around you. You’re kind to everyone, conduct yourself with grace, and are aware of yourself and those around you.
Maybe that’s why Logan Roy chose you.
He’d written to you a week ago, inviting you to dinner to discuss business prospects. You assume he’s gotten himself into a legal pickle involving some of his questionable activity which some regard as criminal.
When you enter the restaurant, one of his men spawn at your side and lead you into the dimly lit back where nobody is sitting. Your heels click on the marble, your gait not wavering.
“Mr. Roy,” you say when you see him. He gets up, albeit very slowly, and shakes your hand.
“Y/L/N in the flesh.” He sits back down and gestures to the seat across from him. You oblige. “You’ve made quite the name for yourself.”
“I do my best.”
He beckons over a passing waiter. “Get her whatever she wants. Put it on my tab.”
You quietly order a small appetizer and watch him watch you.
“Well, Mr. Roy, I hate beating around the bush. Why am I here?”
“The first case you worked on. Do you remember that man’s name? The one you proved innocent?”
“Connor Frost. I don’t forget. Never showed his face once.”
“About him. For witness protection and press reasons, we were allowed to alter his name in the official papers. We also got away with him never being there.”
Your heart misses a beat.
“Connor Roy was on trial for real property fraud, and you proved him innocent,” he continues. You school your face into neutrality. You get a sick feeling in your stomach that won’t stop growing and gnawing at you. It threatens to eat you inside out. “I hate to burst your bubble, but he was guilty. Fucking stupid, it was.”
You blink. “I don’t mean any disrespect, but-”
Logan’s eyes never leave yours. “But nothing. The deed you found in Connor’s name? Forged. And the people who forged it were paid more than enough to never think of speaking about it in court. You couldn’t have known it was fake, so you took it to trial and won. I practically bankrolled that raise of yours.” You can feel yourself begin to itch. “Initially, there was never any need to tell you. If I had things my way, I’d have let you live your life doing whatever the fuck you wanted. But my son had other plans.” As if he didn’t just reveal that your first case was a joke, he offers you some wine. You quickly decline. You feel like you’re going to puke all over him.
“Kendall. You know Kendall.” His voice drips with venom. “Would’ve given everything to him, but he obviously has different ideas for the company. I can’t let him take it now. He’ll fuck up everything I’ve worked for and put into place at Waystar. And I’m not giving the company to the idiot who accidentally committed fraud to the point of felony, or the one who’s running around the world with her dumb fucking political bullshit. That leaves me with one son. So the company has to go to him.”
Logan tops off his glass of wine. “But, by God’s grace, this leftover son is the fucking stupidest of them all.”
You have no idea how this has anything to do with you.
“Let me be clear, Miss Y/L/N. I respect you. You’re a fantastic attorney. I’d have you on retainer- I will, once my current contract with that Frederica jackass runs out. But you must forgive me for all of this. I have to do what needs to be done.”
He inhales, then sighs. “For you to take control without me losing public face, I want you and my son to come to an agreement in a partnership.”
You have to give him the dumbest fucking look for him to respond with, “Marry him. I need you to marry him.”
“I’m sorry?” You can barely keep your composure. You think you’re dreaming, or someone spiked your water, or you’re dead, or anything but this.
“I can’t have him in control. I can pretend like he is, sure, but I need someone with a brain at the helm.”
“I… my degree is in criminal law. I have no idea how the corporate, let alone financial world runs.” It’s all you can think of to say.
He waves you off. “You’ll learn.”
You don’t know what to say. You probably look like a fish, mouth hung open as you gape at him. “Surely someone else is better suited to this than me. I won’t. I can’t.”
“This is why I had to apologize,” he mutters. “Do as I say, and our secret is kept. Walk away, the tabloids will learn of a little lady who buried and forged evidence to win her first court case.”
“You can’t be serious. I thought it was real!”
“The public doesn’t know that. Regardless, I’ve done worse. I’ve ruined stronger, more powerful people with much less.”
You press your lips into a thin line. “I suppose you’ve left me with no choice,” you grit out.
Logan smiles and claps his hands together. “Welcome to the family.” Your appetizer finally comes and is set in front of you. You don’t feel that hungry anymore. “What are you waiting for? Eat!”
He takes a bit of calamari from you. “I think it goes without saying,” he says, “that if you say anything about this conversation we’ve had, you’ll end up prosecuted and in jail for fraud.”
☾𖤓
You feel like you could punch a hole into the wall. You can’t believe it. It’s pure dumb fucking luck that you got caught in this.
Logan Roy didn’t choose you for your legal prowess, or any of your skill or ability like you’d stupidly believed. He chose you because he has control over you, and he knows it.
A few days pass, and you begrudgingly drag yourself out of your rotting place in bed. Cursing yourself the entire time, you change into something nice. Logan told you he was throwing a party in your name, to introduce you to the family- and the inner circle, you knew.
If anything, you think to yourself, you look fucking good.
You’re not prepared for the onslaught of paparazzi that bombards you the moment you step out of the house.
That bastard must’ve told the press about your engagement.
There’s nothing you can do but get into the black sedan waiting for you at the bottom of your driveway. You’re probably going to have to move, now.
You sit in the backseat, simmering the entire drive. You have to prepare yourself for the hell that’ll be stiff arming paparazzi to get to the party.
When you pull up, you take a deep breath, and step out the car. The man sitting in the passenger seat got out before you and walks out in front of you, another flanking you as you push through the chaos.
The flashes are almost blinding, but you keep your eyes open. Every picture taken tonight is going to be circulated tenfold by not even tomorrow morning. You hope you have resting bitch face in all of them.
Your miniature guard manages to get you inside with no issues. You’re late on purpose, and it seems like the room goes quiet when you enter.
The crowd stares back at you as you survey them. As much as your rage is telling you to make a scene, you won’t. Time and place, you tell yourself.
Immediately, you can tell Connor recognizes you. He tries to avoid your gaze, but your rage bubbles up and out of you. “Mind if I steal him for chat?” you ask the girl standing with him, voice painfully faux-sweet. You feel like you’re on Love Island, in some sick, twisted way.
The girl gives Connor an awkward pat on the arm before leaving him be. You can feel peoples’ eyes burning into the back of your head.
“You told me,” you begin, voice dangerously low, “that you didn’t do it.”
He looks everywhere but at you. “I was just doing what I had to.”
“Was fucking me over what you had to do? Because I feel like that’s all you did,” you hiss.
“Do you really think someone like me is going to ever go to jail?” Connor scoffs. “It could damage my reputation.”
“It could damage my reputation,” you mock. “Are you fucking stupid? Fucking God.”
You turn to leave, but immediately pivot back. “You’re a Roy. You would’ve been bailed out immediately. You wouldn’t have even gone to jail for an hour.”
You’re fuming. You’re barely holding it together.
Then, you catch the eyes of a man not that much taller than you, dressed in all crisp black. He’s handsome, you think, a light stubble dotting his jaw and soft eyes that wrinkle gently when he smiles.
He excuses himself from the conversation he’s having to come to you and Connor.
“Connor. You’ve met my lovely bride-to-be?”
You’re back to fuming, any thoughts of his beauty gone.
He sticks his hand out to you. “Roman Roy. Nice to meet you, I’m your fiancé.” His voice is painfully bitter.
“You think I want this any more than you do?” you ask under your breath, your handshake way too firm. His grip on your hand is equally as tight.
Connor snorts. “At least act like you like each other.”
“You’re the reason any of this happened. Keep yourself out of it,” you snap.
Roman sighs and turns away from Connor. “Can we go for a walk? We should probably have a word.” To your dismay, you agree.
As soon as you’re out of the main atrium and by yourselves in a grand hallway, you speak freely. “Listen, this is nothing personal,” you begin, “but I’m looking for a way out of this.”
Roman looks over at you as you walk, both of you going at a snail’s pace. “I don’t stink, do I?” He sticks his hands in his pockets. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry this happened to you. I know he’s blackmailing you.”
You sigh. “I should’ve known something was wrong with the case when I never saw my fucking client in person.”
“Well, I want this over as quickly as you do. My father doesn’t want me anywhere near the company, and I’d like to change that.” You both stop walking to face each other. Maybe you two can be friends, despite everything.
“Let me make something clear, though.” Roman takes a step towards you, leaning forward to whisper in your ear. “I’m only in this for me. Not you.”
Whatever positive thoughts you’d had were chased away. You spend the rest of the night fuming under your skin, lying through your teeth, and standing by yourself in the corner.
Siobhan Roy is the first to approach you.
“I admire you, you know.”
“Your father said that too, and look where I am now.”
She presses a flute of champagne into your hand. “I’m not my father.” You share a tense look. “Listen. I think we can do something good together,” she says lowly. “You want to disentangle yourself from this situation, and I want my father out of the picture when it comes to Waystar. Some of my clients have used your firm during political scandal. They all came away unscathed… I have full trust in your ability.”
“What do you want from me?”
“When the time comes,” Siobhan says, “I want you to help take my father to court. And put him down under. So to speak,” she adds. “And I’ll help make sure that if my father ever says anything about you, nobody believes it.”
After Siobhan, it’s Kendall.
“Shiv talked to you.” He’s worse at keeping conversation than she is. “I would also be involved in this. I’d take my dad’s place as CEO, Roman becomes COO.”
“I take him to court, I’m told.”
“Yeah. Yeah, you do, and you win,” he says carefully. “And then you get so much money you can run away to some foreign country and forget any of this happened.”
You regard him carefully. “How can I trust you? Or Siobhan? Or anyone in this fucking place?”
Kendall pauses, and takes a moment to think. “You can’t,” is all he says before leaving you standing on your own once again.
Finally, Roman makes his way back to you. You bristle as you watch him approach. “I know you don’t really like me right now, but I want to go home and I can’t leave without you on my arm. So, shall we?”
You roll your eyes, but take his elbow anyway.
178 notes · View notes
incorvaia · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media
⟨ jodie turner-smith. cis woman. she/her. thirty-five. ⟩ we welcome scylla upcliff to winterfell , the lady of witch isle. keep an eye out for their splenetic nature, they tend to cover it up by acting hospitable. rumor has it they are neutral to the peace treaty, and their loyalties lie with house upcliff/house arryn . you’ll know it’s them when you get flashes of delphic regard glimpsed over the rim of a fogged teacup; what did it take of you to water your garden? + an architect's arboretum in calloused hands + gazing into the sea and thinking it hungry.
⇢   𝐁 𝐚 𝐬 𝐢 𝐜 𝐈 𝐧 𝐟 𝐨𝐫 𝐦 𝐚 𝐭 𝐢 𝐨𝐧  ;
full name: scylla upcliff meaning: ❛ to tear, a mythical sea monster ❜ nicknames/aliases: cyla occupation:  former ∣ current ‘perfumer’ ( still occasionally dabbles ), ‘ruling lady’ ∣ scion of the witch isle
marital affiliation: unattached. unbetrothed. religion: obscure faith affiliation and alignment: house upcliff, house arryn, herself ∣ chaotic lawful, chaotic neutral disposition ( positive ): hospitable, tba disposition ( negative ): splenetic, tba
tw: death, tw: illness, tw: blood mention
𝐁 𝐢 𝐨  ; 
✵ 𝐒𝐂𝐘𝐋𝐋𝐀 𝐔𝐏𝐂𝐋𝐈𝐅𝐅. cyla. another youth jessamine upcliff had taken upon herself to cultivate. to nurture; draping her in the heftiest jewels that looked like blood drops or as if pieces of the sea had been carved out to circle throat and wrists, gold and lines of pearls and gems the size of an egg. preeminent educators for all the children within her household once jessamine acquired more—the word of choice and freedom laid out on a silver platter by matriarch and wealth held under thumb. nonetheless overindulge did not breed an ‘above others attitude’ in the second scion of house upcliff more so a creature of inbetweens.
✵ is possibly the daughter of nobility and was born to a life of luxury yet readily given up for inheritance left nothing to be desired and house had enough spares or was born to poverty and she was left with a less than enthusiastic caretaker and nothing to her name, or as murmurs persisted from behind fascinators and fans a bastard heritage, no one was certain. yet nothing was denied nor acknowledged furthermore as nobles do attention drifted to the next morsel of spectacle eagerly stomached than the unknown origins that left one empty or dead given the weaving otherworldly history surrounding its inhabitants.
✵ the seat of witch isle lay vacant after their mother died and even before that her older brothers’ abandonment departure, sagacious scylla took the reigns of tremulous leadership among a council of vultures and the continued rearing of her sisters. crafting her own ichor saturated repute instead of one induced by marriage, coaxing dread for she takes their sinister reputation to heart and beyond, fostering connections internal and external giving rise to the idea of lecanomancy being used upon these encounters meant to boost affluence and somehow knowing which avenue to follow and avoiding ventures aimed towards failure—in her eyes being ‘ what benefit would this be to us?’ a countenance she adapts with everything in life. 
✵ in those moments of potential impermanent power scylla 𝘸𝘢𝘴 ruling lady, didn’t know how to feel about the role nonetheless even without it’s gained not earned authority, respect; scylla was still proud enough to have used it to her own purpose in advance of the return of it’s ‘true heir’ her brother syrio after the letter written by herself was sent off to vaguely mention the passing of their mother. assumed he wouldn’t show yet desired to let him know as his name was the last to have left their mothers’ lips—this information did not become gifted knowledge until the last day of the funeral during a spat and the stay before the trip to winterfell was upon, split house having answered the call. the lady going forth for her own esoteric rationale.
𝐏𝐈𝐄𝐂𝐄𝐒  ; 
✵ tba
wanted connections - 
tba.
8 notes · View notes
v-hope · 3 years
Text
Sweet Night
Pairing: Artist!Taehyung x Heiress!Reader, Heir!OC x Reader
Genre: Fluff (yes, only fluff today, enjoy), Ex Roommates AU, Enemies to Lovers AU, Arranged Marriage (Heir!OC x Reader)
Word Count: 4.8k
Summary: Neither you nor Taehyung were expecting you to show up to his art exhibition, let alone when everyone was already gone, for the two of you were well aware that you didn’t have much of a choice when it came to attending your possible future husband’s charity event instead. Then again, neither of you were counting on your brother and sister in law to take your side and drive you all the way over to him so you could surprise him before the day was over.
A/N: Helloo! This is part 24 of my Social Media AU “Belong”, but you can read it as a stand-alone one shot if you want! I would like to make a shout out to my 🇫🇮 anon for giving me the Jimin idea (you know which one, I changed it a bit to make it fit the story better, but still). I hope you guys enjoy!
Tumblr media
Looking away from the backseat’s window, your eyes focused on your trembling hands instead — the city lights as you passed them by being the only source of light as your brother drove through the streets of Seoul, which for some reason seemed to be extremely long that particular night.
The light music Miyoung had taken upon playing on the radio from the passenger seat, in an attempt to create a somewhat calm atmosphere for you and the nervousness she was sure you were feeling, had yet to make you actually calm down. If anything, you could feel your shaky hands become sweatier by the second as you felt a tingle of anticipation in your chest.
Although you wanted with everything in you to attend Taehyung’s art exhibition, you had got out of bed that morning being mentally prepared to spend the entire day at the Lee’s charity event.
You had been ready to spend most of the day with your parents pretending that everything in your relationship was alright, perfect even. You had been smiling for the cameras all day, greeting people you were sure were just pretending to have the perfect life as well, and being forced to make small talk with the ones who used to be your friends yet had turned their back on you as soon as they had found out you were choosing a more modest life over the luxurious one — the same so called friends of yours that had to keep quiet about your little secret if they didn’t want your parents to destroy their family’s business. After all, your family was with no doubt the most powerful one in Korea. And honestly? You couldn’t help but see it now as a curse, after having spent a lifetime believing it was a gift.
Not only that, but you had also spent most of the day next to Sungjin, lovingly posing for the cameras and holding hands, making you wish every single second it was Taehyung instead. You were sure that way it would’ve been more bearable. What you hated the most was the fact that you knew said pictures were being posted right away, meaning Taehyung would see them, and you hated the utter thought of having the man you had feelings for see you acting like a happy couple with someone else — even more after you had to cancel on him to attend an event with the one guy he had asked you not to bring with you to his art exhibition to begin with.
And yet, after having to endure all of that, here you were — a little over an hour after Taehyung’s exhibit was done, being driven over there by your brother and sister in law, while Jimin held him back at the gallery, and you not even knowing what you were supposed to say at all once you saw him. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe this whole impromptu apparition of yours was a good idea at all. It had been a long day for him, you knew that for sure, and although he had told you earlier that day that he would’ve loved to have you there, maybe by this point he just wanted to go home and get some rest.
You didn’t have much more time to think about that, though, for just as you remained deep in your thoughts, Seokjin pulled up right in front of the address you had given him before. Looking up from your fidgeting hands, you were met by two pairs of eyes already focused on you.
“Do you want us to go with you?” Seokjin asked, hand on his keys, ready to pull them out at your command.
“Um…” you hesitated, leaning closer to the window as your eyes travelled around the rather isolated street in search of any paparazzis, finding yourself to be quite relieved when you saw none of them around. “Maybe just until I find Tae”.
They nodded, exchanging one last look before they made their way out of the car right as you did. Feeling the cold breeze of the night as soon as you closed the door behind you, you couldn’t help but hug yourself, sticking close to Jin and Miyoung as if you were a kid heading to school with her parents after being called by the principal.
Right as you were about to reach the entrance, however, Yoongi made his way out of the building, looking the other way before his eyes fell on all three of you.
“Hey,” he greeted, politely bowing his head, which you didn’t wait to reciprocate. “I came to see if you were anywhere near, Jimin is going crazy trying to come up with more excuses for Taehyung not to leave”.
You chuckled at his comment, imagining just how troubled your friend must have been. After all, and to be fair, you had taken a good while to get there. “Well, I’m here now”.
“That I can see” he sarcastically replied, eyes travelling from you to Seokjin, and then focusing on Miyoung. “Are you all coming in?” his eyes went back to you.
“Is it just the three of you inside?” your brother spoke up before you could nod. As far as he had understood, it should have been only Jimin and Taehyung inside.
“Oh, no” Yoongi denied. “Namjoon-ie is with us, too”.
“Namjoon?” Miyoung wondered, puzzled eyes going up to your brother. Given her reaction, you couldn’t help but wonder if maybe she knew what the rest of you didn’t when it came to those two.
Seokjin bit the inside of his cheek, giving her a knowing look before his eyes went back to Yoongi. “Actually, I, um… I just remembered Miyoung-ie and I have things to do, so…”
Although your sister in law looked troubled for a split second there, she wasted no time in nodding her head. Looking at Yoongi, she struggled to get the words out of her mouth. “W-We do! So, um…” her eyes focused on you. “We should probably leave. Is it okay?”
“Sure…”
“You’ll be okay?” she pushed it, earning a small laugh from you over his motherly ways.
“She’s in good hands” Yoongi reassured her, receiving a genuine smile from her that only caused his lips to part into one of his own as well.
“Okay” she sweetly replied, giving him a small nod as a sign of gratitude.
Seokjin playfully nudged her, grabbing her hand so the whole marriage thing could at least be a little bit more believable. “Shall we go then?”
“Mhm…” she replied.
“Call me when you’re done here” your brother demanded.
“Oh, I’m sure Taehyung will drive her home” Yoongi’s words got chills running up your spine.
“Okay,” Jin’s eyes travelled from Yoongi to you. “Call me when you’re home then”.
“I will” you obediently complied.
With that said, your brother and sister in law turned around, leaving you alone with Yoongi, who didn’t wait to motion towards the door for you to go inside.
“After you” he politely said.
You smiled, taking in a shaky breath before you took a step in. Suddenly all the nervousness you had felt on your way here came right back to hit you in the face, not knowing at all what to do once you were in front of the guy you had ditched the Lee’s event for — not even knowing how he would react at all, yet hoping he would be happy to have you there.
You didn’t get too much time to mentally prepare, for as soon as you entered the place being followed by Yoongi, you caught a glimpse of the backs of the other three men inside as they faced one of the many paintings that brought some life to the neutral white covering every single wall of the gallery. And it was a matter of you taking a few steps towards them for three pairs of eyes to be set on you. However, yours were only focused on one particular pair of them — those chocolate ones that displayed a mixture of surprise and pure happiness in them.
“You’re here?” Taehyung asked the obvious once you reached their side, causing his friends to chuckle in amusement.
“Seems like it…” you nervously managed to get out.
Silence took over as big smiles were plastered all over your faces — on yours and Taehyung’s, as the two of you were happy as hell to see each other, and on his friends, for they were having a blast watching the two of you awkwardly stand in front of one another with those dumb smiles of yours, not knowing what to do next.
“Come on,” Jimin chimed in, placing his hand behind your back and lightly pushing you towards Tae. “Your girl fooled her parents into coming here, the least she deserves is a hug”.
With a giggle escaping Tae’s mouth, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around you when your body was about to collide with his. Feeling your heart going wild at the warmness of his touch, you wrapped your arms around his waist as well, resting your face on his chest and taking in his scent right as he lowered his head just enough to bury it in your neck.
“Thank you for coming” he mumbled.
A light chuckle abandoned your mouth, deciding to say nothing and instead just nod your head and wrap your arms tighter around his figure.
“Okay, I think this is our cue to go” Namjoon’s voice broke the comfortable silence you had fallen into.
“Yup” Yoongi agreed, patting Jimin’s back to catch his attention, as he was shamelessly taking pictures of the two of you to remember the moment his friends somewhat got together. “Let’s give the love birds some privacy”.
Nodding his head, Jimin shoved his phone back into his pocket — neither of them bothering to say goodbye not to kill the moment the two of you were sharing, and just quietly leaving the gallery instead.
Once you heard the front doors being closed, Taehyung pulled away, cupping your face in his warm hands and smiling at the sight of you. “I never thought seeing you would make me this happy”.
“Yah, Kim Taehyung” you called him out. “I’m sure you can be sweeter than that”.
He chuckled, rolling his eyes at how spoiled you had become when it came to him and his show of affection. “I’m happy you’re here, princess”.
You smiled, resting your hands over his and drawing small circles with your thumbs on his skin. “I’m happy I’m here”.
His smile turned sweeter somehow, lightly pressing his forehead on yours before a chuckle escaped his mouth and he amusedly shook his head.
“What is it?” you wondered.
“Nothing,” he laughed, pulling away and letting go of your face. “It just makes sense now why the guys were trying so hard to keep me here. Specially Jimin”.
“Was he losing it?” you laughed.
“Totally” he nodded. “He made me go over the whole exhibition again and explain each one of my paintings at least twice to him” his eyes travelled to one particular spot on the wall right next to the painting they had been admiring when you walked in. “When he ran out of pieces to ask me about he pointed at this small crack on the wall and asked me how I had come up with such a deep concept”.
This time, you couldn’t help but tilt your head back as a throaty laugh escaped your mouth — one that had Taehyung giggling, absolutely loving the sound of your laugh.
“He’s an idiot” you stated. “But he kept you here for me, so…”
“That he did” he smiled, biting his bottom lip as his eyes unconsciously travelled down your body — that pink dress of yours sure did look even better in person. “Aren’t you cold?”
Your eyes instinctively went down to your uncovered legs and then to your uncovered arms, remembering how you had hugged yourself outside minutes ago because of the cold air of the night. “It’s alright in here”.
He nodded his head. “My coat is by the entrance, in case you get too cold”.
You smiled sweetly, yet it didn’t wait to turn into what seemed more like a teasing smirk. “So you told me earlier today that you wished you had got to see me in this dress and now you want to cover it up?”
Taehyung rolled his eyes in amusement. “Don’t get me wrong, princess. I already told you I think you look beautiful and am most definitely enjoying the view right now” his bold words brought heat to your face. “I’m just looking after you”.
“How sweet of you” your sarcastic tone didn’t really match your flustered expression. “I’m okay for now. Will let you enjoy the view for a little longer”.
“How considerate of you” he was quick to follow your sarcastic antics, silently enjoying that particular choice of yours.
“I know, no need to say it” you playfully squinted your eyes at him, later taking a look at the whole gallery. “You think you could show me around?”
He nodded, a bright smile already taking over his face. “It will be my pleasure” his dramatism got a playful roll of eyes from you. “Where would you like to start?”
“This one is alright” you pointed out, moving closer to the painting you already had in front. “So,” you began, eyes tauntingly going to the crack next to his painting. “Tell me about how you came up with such a deep concept”.
“Shut up” he amusedly rolled his eyes.
“No, but seriously now” you smiled, this time staring at the piece of art in front of you. “Tell me about this one”.
Taehyung’s art, you had found out quite a while ago, tended to be on the abstract side. Therefore, it was even harder for you —or anyone for that matter— to interpret.
This one piece, just like the tag placed above it on the wall let you know, was called ‘Winter Bear’. You could clearly see the winter, the palette of colours he had used just screamed cold days and melancholy. Nevertheless, the bear mentioned in the title was nowhere to be found in the painting — instead, you managed to tell apart what you thought was a little boy, somewhat hidden in between all the colourful strokes surrounding his figure.
“That’s me” he pointed out when he could no longer deal with the confusion in your face, managing to draw your attention back to him.
“What?” your bottom lip stuck out in a pout. “What is the word ‘bear’ doing in the title then?”
He chuckled. “It’s art, you dork. You can name it anything you want”.
“I think it must mean something, though…”
Taehyung bit his bottom lip. Of course you would know better.
“That’s what my grandparents used to call me” he confessed.
You nodded quietly, understandingly — not really knowing what to say yet not wanting to stay silent. “You must miss them so much…”
“Sometimes,” he nodded. “I mean, not a day goes by in which I don’t miss them, it’s just that… it’s been years so… you kinda grow used to it” his shoulders moved up and down, in a shrug that tried not to make it seem like a big deal. “The whole exhibit was related to winter, so it naturally reminded me of them and how they used to call me, and… I guess I got too personal with this exhibition”.
You gave him a sweet smile of reassurance, reaching for his hand and holding it in yours. “It’s your art. It’s supposed to be personal”.
The boxy smile that he gave you right then was all it took for your heart to skip a beat, later taking in a shaky breath when he intertwined his long fingers with yours and his thumb drew small circles on the back of your hand.
Your eyes went back to the painting in front, trying your best not to let him know what his touch did to you. “I love it” you stated, much to his pleasure. “Love the way it seems to make no sense when you only read the title, yet it makes complete sense after you explain it”.
He smiled wholeheartedly. “I think it just makes no sense” his words had you furrowing your eyebrows in confusion. “Not everyone is lucky enough to know the true meaning behind it”.
You giggled. “Lucky me then”.
“Lucky you” he agreed.
Tugging at his hand, you moved on to the next painting, and then the next one, and so on. Not a second had gone by in which you had let go of each other’s hand as you commented on the different paintings and the meanings behind each of them — the two of you finding yourselves having the time of your lives as you gave him your take on them and he confirmed whether or not it was what he had tried to portray.
That was what each of you liked about art so much, the fact that there was no wrong answer and you could discuss it so freely. Sure, he had something in mind the moment he painted each one of his pieces, but it was always fun to see what the rest of the people would feel when they looked at them.
And, for some reason, it was particularly enjoyable to him when it came to discussing art with you. So he had found out back when he invited you to one of his friend’s exhibits. It was different than talking about it with his friends, and he didn’t know if it was the fact that, unlike them, you actually knew about art, or just the fact that it was you.
Maybe both.
Tightening your hold on his hand when there were only four more artworks left, you moved on to the next one, having your jaw drop at the sight of it.
“Hey, this is the one I fixed” you blurted out in both surprise and excitement, unconsciously moving closer to it and dragging Taehyung with you so you could appreciate it better.
Although you were excited to see it there, you couldn’t help but feel your face heat up at the memories it brought back — the fact that you had collided with it and spilled coffee on it, still being both upsetting and embarrassing as hell.
You remembered quite well the way you had ran out in search of an art shop to find the necessary supplies to fix it before Taehyung could get home. Maybe you should have been faster. Not like that would’ve been of too much help, though, for whether you wanted to admit it to yourself or not, you knew very well he would’ve noticed something was off with his newest creation right away.
Looking at the different shades of blue and touches of yellow right then brought you back to that night you pulled an all-nighter, meticulously trying to recreate his painting — the hardest part being that you had only got to see it for a split second before the coffee that used to be on your —by then— broken mug had ruined it. You could only be thankful that it had been just a particular part of the painting and not all of it.
Staring into the picture, you had to stop yourself from reaching your hand out to it and trace your fingers over the pair of eyes you could tell apart in yet another one of his abstract works. You had not truly paid attention to them that one night you spent in Taehyung’s living room fixing his painting, for you had been way too invested in the details you had ruined. And you couldn’t help but feel relieved over the fact that the hot liquid had not touched the eyes he had so perfectly portrayed, for although they looked quite familiar somehow, you weren’t sure you would have been able to do any justice to them.
“I didn’t think you were actually displaying it” you mumbled after a few seconds, eyes still fixed on the painting.
“Why wouldn’t I?” he cocked one of his eyebrows. “Not to be that guy, but it’s quite good”.
“Yes,” you agreed in a heartbeat. “But you can tell one part of it is quite different to the rest of it”.
“You did a good job fixing it, princess” he recognized. “No one could really tell the difference”.
“I can tell” you mumbled.
Taehyung laughed under his breath. “Will you just look up to its title?”
Doing as told out of curiosity, your eyes darted up in a heartbeat — feeling them well up with tears when you read what the label above the artwork said.
“Sweet Night”, ft. Ariel.
Looking up to hold back the tears you felt so dumb for even having in the first place, you shook your head as the corners of your lips curved slightly up. “You did not just credit me after being the one to ruin it to begin with”.
“Hey, I wasn’t taking full credit over something I didn’t completely paint” he stated. “Plus, it’s smart, don’t you think? No one will ever know this Ariel person is no other than the infamous Kim Y/N”.
“You really didn’t have to…”
“I wanted to” he stated.
You bit your bottom lip, no longer being able to hold back your smile and letting it part your lips like it had been threatening to. Taehyung couldn’t help but laugh under his breath over how adorable he thought you were, not even dreaming of stopping himself when he let go of your hand and placed his arm over your shoulders instead, pulling you closer to him as the two of you stared into the artwork in front.
“Why ‘Sweet Night’?” you wondered, leaning your head on his body.
He shrugged. “It’s silly”.
“Come onnn,” you pouted, pulling slightly away so you could look at him. “Out of all the paintings here, you can’t leave out the explanation to this particular one”.
Taehyung sighed, knowing well enough that, one, you were right, and, two, you were not letting this go until he told you.
“It was inspired by that one night I came home to you and Sungjin” he said rather bitterly, remembering pretty well how he had not been fazed at all by the fact that you and said guy had obviously been making out right before, yet feeling his blood boil at the mere thought of it now. “We stayed up late eating lots and lots of sweet popcorn because I had way too many of them and you became addicted to them and how well they went with wine” a small laugh escaped his mouth at the memory. “So I just went with that. Plus, you were being really sweet that night and it was the first time I got to see that side of you, so…”
“That is really sweet” you mumbled, feeling the heat reach your cheeks.
“Don’t” he pleaded.
You laughed. “It truly is sweet, Vante” the way your eyes had softened at the sight of him, had his heart skipping a beat. “What do the eyes mean, though?”
“You just want to torture me by now” he called you out.
“I’m just asking!” you defended yourself with a giggle.
Taehyung rolled his eyes, feeling the heat reach his face as he intently focused on the painting, evading your eyes as he spoke.
“I’ve never been a fan of people having their full attention on me, I don’t like being the center of attention… I mean, I told you today how I was not looking forward to the moment I would have to give a speech in front of all my guests” you nodded, remembering how you had tried to cheer him up when it came to that. “So I don’t really talk about my art… or about art in general, to anyone. I just show it to them and let them interpret it, that’s what art is about, after all. But that one night you asked me a lot about my art and I actually felt like talking about it with you, and I remember the way your eyes were fixed on me almost as if you were scared you would miss some kind of important detail,” he laughed lightly. “And for the first time I liked the attention. I guess that inspired me enough to paint this”.
“So those are my eyes?” you asked.
He shrugged. “It’s up for interpretation”.
You shook your head in amusement, staring down as you felt your face burning. “You’re the worst”.
Taehyung chuckled, pulling you closer to him with the arm that was still around your shoulders, and using his free hand to place two fingers under your chin and make you look up at him. “Am I now?”
You felt your breathing become heavier the second his nose faintly bumped on yours — his lips only centimeters away from your anticipating ones. Too intimidated by him right then, knowing well enough he had you wrapped around his finger, you managed to shake your head no to answer his question, without taking your eyes away from his for even a second. Or well, that until his chocolate ones travelled down to your mouth.
Staring down into his tempting lips as they slowly came closer to yours, you looked up to his eyes for a split second, just enough to catch a glimpse of the way his remained fixed on your mouth. And then, you saw nothing — eyes instinctively closing when his lips softly trapped your bottom one.
Just one touch of his lips made you wonder how you had managed to go on all these weeks without getting a taste of them again.
“I thought you didn’t do this whole ‘friends with benefits’ thing?” you whispered against his lips, opening your eyes to find his dark ones already fixed on you.
A small, breathy laugh escaped his mouth, leaning in so it would faintly brush against yours. “I’m not kissing you as a friend”.
Your lips parted into a smile, not letting another second go by before you pressed your lips to his, making him smile and cup your face in his hands just like he had done weeks ago with the intention of deepening the kiss.
With your arms wrapping around his neck, you pulled him closer to your body, letting go of the kiss for a second to catch your breath and having him take advantage of your slightly open mouth to trap your bottom lip in his eager ones again, this time tracing his tongue over it and slipping it inside your still open mouth — meeting your awaiting one in the middle just the way he wanted.
Letting go of your face, one of his hands travelled down to your lower back so he could feel you even closer, fingers tracing their way down your bare arms as he did so, and feeling goosebumps form on your skin.
“You’re cold?” he asked, taking one second to catch his breath before his wet lips were back on yours.
You shook your head no, a small, shy laugh escaping your mouth. “I didn’t get chills because I’m cold”.
Taehyung bit his lip, feeling the corners of his mouth curving up and pressing one last kiss to your lips before finally pulling away from you as his eyes were intently fixed on yours.
“I will keep my coat to myself then” he teased you.
“Nope,” you were quick to deny. “I am taking you up on the coat offer when we leave”.
“Okay” he laughed lightly, the hand that was still on your face travelling down your arm to intertwine his fingers with yours. “Shall we go?”
You shook your head no quite effusively. “We’re not done with the exhibit yet!”
“I’m hungry, let’s go eat something” Taehyung whined. “We can come back some other day”.
“Yah,” you called him out. “I came all the way here just to see your artworks”.
Your words earned a somewhat bitter pout from him. “Thought you had come all the way over here to see me”.
You couldn’t help but let out a chuckle at that, tugging on his hand to pull him closer, and then making him replace said pout with a smile when you pressed two chaste kisses to his mouth. “It was implicit” your teasing words had him rolling his eyes. “We only have three more to go and then I’m all yours”.
He smirked, pulling you with him to the next piece. “I like the sound of that”.
“I meant it as in, then we can go get some food” you mumbled, feeling your face burning for what felt like the millionth time that night.
“I know” he pecked your lips. “Doesn’t change that I enjoy the sound of that”.
1K notes · View notes
adam-memeleri · 3 years
Text
i went through aislinns tag at 2 in the morning yesterday and didn’t see a single fic so fuck it i’ll do it myself i guess
-
Aislinn finds herself alone with Quinn after staying late in the office, and is soon whisked out on definitely not a date for the rest of the evening.
Tagging - @aislinnstanaka @lookingforsomethingcuzimbored @swimmingshoebakerydreamer @saratustra4 @alccaddsccup
if you do or do not wanna be tagged
Masterlists shameless self promotion lmao
T Rating (just fluff and aislinn being cute, so the usual lmao)
Aislinn x MC (Quinn Michaels, gender neutral)
~1,4k words (no editing, we die like men)
-
The law office is missing its characteristic bustle as Aislinn scrawls away at a page, a crease between her brows as she works. A sigh slips past her lips and she rolls her neck to release some tension, stifling a groan of exhaustion.
“Are you busy or is this all for show?” a voice calls from the open doorway, the first person to pass it in Aislinn’s not sure how long.
Her dark eyes flicker upwards, lips already curving in a brilliant smile before her gaze even lands on the person hanging from the doorframe. “Just finishing up some paperwork.”
“And by finishing, do you mean actually finishing, or are you going to be here for hours still?” the lawyer’s eyes crinkle with a grin as they step forward, stalking further into the office like an animal on the prowl.
Aislinn’s shoulders lift in a weak shrug, a bashful blush staining her cheeks. “Not hours, per say…”
“Aislinn!” Quinn chides with a laugh, collapsing lazily into the chair across from her desk.
“What?”
They shift in the chair, folding one leg over the other in an elegantly leisurely motion. “The paperwork can wait, it’ll be there in the morning.”
“I know," Aislinn starts, preparing herself with a deep breath, "but I’ll have more in the morning from new cases and updates on top of this, and this'll slow me down so the backlog just gets larger and larger until I'm way behind and everyone's frustrated, and I don't want that, so I should just finish it now.” She finally stops, sucking in a deep breath.
Quinn taps out a sharp rhythm on the arm of the chair, eyes roving over Aislinn in inspection with a bemused tilt to her lips. “Okay,” they answer abruptly.
“Okay?”
“Okay,” they repeat, smile growing playfully, “But I’m staying too, so every minute you lose sleep, is a minute away from me too.”
A frown dips Aislinn’s features as she scowls across the desk, “I don’t like that.”
Quinn winks, “That’s the point.”
Aislinn shakes her head at them, turning back to the papers and files strewn across the wood grain of her desk to hide her smile. “I’ll be quick,” she chuckles beneath her breath.
---
A half hour later, a file thuds on Aislinn’s desk as she grins victoriously, leaning back in her chair. “Done!” she announces.
“Great!” Quinn claps, jumping to their feet before Aislinn can even blink. “Now let’s go get something to eat.”
“I thought we were supposed to go home?”
Quinn halts behind the chair they were lounging in, arms folding over the back of it. “Do you want to go home?”
“What’s the alternative?”
“I take you out to dinner and we have a good time.”
Aislinn laughs lightly, “I’m starting to think you had an ulterior motive coming in here.”
“Me? Never,” they drawl huskily before spinning on their heel, striding confidently to the office door they always seem to appear in when Aislinn needs them most. They glance back, the corners of their mouth ticked upwards, “You coming?”
Aislinn darts to her feet, her desk chair tilting dangerously at the sudden movement, before she grabs her jacket off the back of it and hurries out the door, heels clicking in a quick beat as she catches up. Quinn’s still walking in eager steps when Aislinn falls into step beside them, but spares a wide smile before thumbing the button for the elevator.
Aislinn taps her foot for a beat before chancing a peek at Quinn. “What kind of dinner is this going to be?”
“Oh, just two friends staying out too late and eating food,” Quinn shrugs, fighting a bemused smile. “Are there some expectations I now need to meet?” they tease.
Her hair shifts as she shakes her head, stilling at the beep of the elevator. “No, I was just… curious.” So this is definitely not a date. Noted.
---
“So why here?” Aislinn’s dark eyes flicker around the restaurant she’s found herself in, warm lighting and deep colours filling the space. A few other patrons fill the seats, even in the late hour, conversation creating a soft murmur.
“Hmm?” Quinn glances up from their plate, pasta stabbed on their fork.
“You have all of New York at your disposal and you brought me here.”
They meet her smile without hesitation, before shrugging casually. “It’s cozy. And I didn’t think you’d like something flashy and uptight.”
“Do you know somewhere flashy and uptight?”
“Not quite…” they admit, “but I’m sure Gigi does.”
Aislinn can’t help but laugh at the immediate return of confidence, the crooked tilt to Quinn’s grin. “You’d owe Gigi a favour just for a dinner?”
“If it’s with you?” their smile turns coy, “In a heartbeat.”
Aislinn pauses, blinking blankly across the table before she clears her throat, looking away to stare at her plate, a furious blush on her cheeks. A silence fills the space between them, only broken by scraping silverware. “So how are you liking your apartment?” Aislinn finally musters, glancing upwards briefly.
“Oh, it’s amazing,” Quinn grins, carrying on without a care. “I owe you so bad.”
“Lucky for you, I’m a lot more forgiving than Gigi.”
“Also a lot cuter,” Quinn winks.
An amused chuckle thrums in Aislinn’s throat, “Careful not to say that around her.”
“I’ve got nothing to hide.”
Aislinn cocks her head, smiling softening but cheeks still pink, “How do you always do that? Turn things lighthearted, I mean.”
They shrug again, as easygoing as ever, “You just have to not care. Don’t put pressure on it to be fun or whatever, just try to find all the little enjoyable things and focus on them.”
Aislinn just watches them for a moment with a gentle smile, eyes bright and shining with the warmth of the restaurant and her own affections. A few stray strands of hair frame her face and the dazzling features carved within it.
“Oh now what?” Quinn laughs brightly at the look in dark eyes across from them.
“Nothing,” Aislinn shakes her head, still fighting a beaming grin, “I just like that. You make things seem easy.”
“It is easy, you’re just in your head. I’ll prove it one of these days, you’ll see.”
A soft laugh bubbles out of Aislinn, a melody contrasting with the din of chatter throughout the rest of the building. “I’m sure I will.”
---
Aislinn glances down the street, raising onto her toes to see above passing heads. The pavement’s damp beneath her feet, lights glinting in the puddles by the curb and Quinn’s wide smile. “Did I live up to your expectations?”
“There were none, remember?” Aislinn’s expression shifts into a delicate smile for what feels like the hundredth time tonight.
“Sure,” Quinn squints at her in a disbelieving glower. “Well, regardless, I hope you had a good time.”
“I did. I hope I was good enough company.”
“There’s no one else I’d have rather spent the night with.”
A flush warms the back of Aislinn’s neck and she averts her gaze, fingers toying with the bracelet draped around her wrist. She risks a look towards the person beside her, finding their eyes already trained on her and shining.
“Me neither,” Aislinn finally whispers, earning a smile so bright she thinks she might go blind.
“Good.” Quinn’s smile fades into something softer, eyes refusing to look away for a long moment, “Night.” It draws Aislinn in, hypnotises her beneath glowing lamp posts, and she doesn’t even mind. “Night,” Quinn repeats as they seem to blink out of a similar haze, grin widening once more as they step away, trailing backwards down the pavement.
Aislinn turns too, smiling faintly to herself as she stuffs her hands into her pockets. Stray coins clink against one another within, and she trails a fingertip over the edge of one just to give herself something to do, something other than thinking about that smile.
“Wait, Aislinn!” rings in her ears and she spins, a questioning furrow to her brow. Quinn staggers to a stop before her, that smile just as it was, “I forgot something.” They lean in, pressing a quick kiss to Aislinn’s cheek before darting back again. “There. Now, goodnight,” they tease before whirling around, rushing down the sidewalk and leaving Aislinn in their wake.
That kiss was definitely not the end to a definitely not a date, and Aislinn and Quinn definitely won’t be thinking about it for days. And they definitely won’t be going on another within the next week.
70 notes · View notes
physicalturian · 3 years
Text
[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 10 (Last)
[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 8634 Archive of our own
Warning : Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Control / Oral / Discipline / Voyeurism / Brat / Shibari / Impact play / Tears (from dick uh) / Protected sex / Aftercare / Edging / Pet names The voyeurism part is only for part of it. For those who do not know what 'voyeurism' is, it means someone is watching - It's done with everyone's consent.; The tears are purely deep dick in throat; Don’t forget there are oral protections for when you give head to someone, or receive it tbh, to avoid STD’s.
If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask
– Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 - Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9
There stood Rosinante. And clearly, Law was not expecting him to come by. I hurriedly covered myself, but it was too late, and the blond man seemed to have enjoyed the sight as he looked at my hands gripping the lapel tight before looking at me with a grin. “I see you’ve got company Traffy,”
“I’m guessing the date went well-“ “I asked you a question Cora, what do you want?” I felt the tension between the two men, clearly Law was annoyed by the interruption which was not the most welcomed right now. I was about to sneak out of sight when I saw the delivery girl in the back, she looked at the device in her hand, confused. I nudged Law’s side to get his attention and he told Rosinante to get out of the way so he could get the takeout.
 When he did, I walked past him and exchanged the money Law had handed me, for the bag of food in her hand. I saw her glimpse at my chest and quickly bid her goodbye before shuffling back inside and putting everything back on the table. When I joined the black-haired man’s side, he told me to go on and start eating without him, he had to talk with the blond. I half-heartedly accepted and went back to the dining room where I unpacked everything. While I did so, I paid attention to what was being said in the corridor.
 “-It wouldn’t be the first time, I don’t see why you don’t want to Law,” I heard the blond almost whine.
“Did you really think that coming all the way here would make me accept the offer? This is different than the other times,” Law replied, his tone stern and still laced with annoyance. I made sure to not seem like I was listening as I started eating.
“I’m just saying, if that’s what she’s into, I’m the man for the job-“ “I didn’t ask, and we’re taking things slow,” Law’s answer made Rosinante laugh, it quickly turned into a gasp as I heard a thud before their conversation resumed.
 “That’s not what the rope around her breasts says,” I turned around to look at them in shock, and quickly turned back to face my food when both of them looked my way. Fuck, be discrete, you haven’t heard anything.
 Law sighed and I heard the door lock, it was followed by shoes hitting the parquet. “I’m not taking a decision without her, first we eat, then we talk,”
“It’s alright I’ve already eaten,” I heard Rosinante’s deep voice getting closer, and Law’s reply even more, “I didn’t ask, there is none for you, sit down and don’t talk,”
 From the interactions between the two, I felt like there was bad blood between the two of them which clashed with the man now sitting right next to Law in front of me. Law was sitting at the end of the table, Rosinante on his right and me on his left. I wrapped the bathrobe tighter around me, throwing a glance at Law and fidgeted on my seat. Was it his way of playing with my appreciation of ‘giving a show’ as he put it? “Don’t mind him, eat,”
 “It’s kind of hard not to, he’s staring right at me and he’s pretty big,” Facing the blond, I quirked a brow, going back to be in control. “Why are you here? Do you need something? We were a bit busy until you arrived, and while I respect that you’re his colleague, I think he’s not on shift right now.” I stated with as much professionalism as I could. I was not going to speak in Law’s stead, but I was frustrated by the interruption, if it had just been the delivery girl, we could have gone back to our little game once the door was closed. But here, I felt myself run cold… And burning at the same time, I was very aware of the restrictions around my form, after all, how could I not?
 I felt Law’s hand on my thigh after my question and had to muster all my strength not to move in startlement. I hope the blond hadn’t seen my reaction, after all I knew he had caught a glimpse of the rope work under my robe, but he did not show any sign of awkwardness. “It’s not work related, don’t you worry, actually it’s more of a leisurely visit,” The blond rolled up his sleeves and leaned back on his chair, almost tumbling back before grabbing the edge of the table and catching himself. Ignoring his almost-accident, I kept eating and did not ask any more question. I exchanged a few glances with Law when his hand traveled higher on my thigh.
 I didn’t know what games he was playing, and I didn’t know why he was being so daring when his colleague was there… but I liked it. To make him understand I was on board, I spread my legs wider and as I made it so it looked like I was seating back properly, I moved his hand even higher.
 I heard a huff coming from him as he continued eating. While his eyes were on his plate, his nails dug themselves inside my skin ever so lightly before going up and down my thigh. My attention being solely on his touch under the table, I almost forgot the man right in front of us who was silent up until now, “You know, Law, I understand you telling me to wait until you’re done eating and all that, but you can’t say that and then start the fun right under my nose,”
 Confused, and thinking he knew, I grabbed Law’s hand from going any higher, but he deftly moved my hand from his and held my thigh tightly. He was rubbing my inner thigh, letting his hand graze my crotch many times without even reacting. I had to put everything down when I was getting too excited to finish my plate, thinking I’d finish the rest after the eventful night I was promised those past few nights by HandSurgeon. “Then ask her, see how it goes,” Law almost spat, giving Rosinante a glare that I wouldn’t have wanted to be the receiving end of.
 ‘Cora’ however was unbothered, his grin only widening as he leaned further on the table. I felt a foot bump against mine under the able but did not say anything. “See, with Law here, we sometimes have interesting nights-“ “It was two times, Cora,”
“Actually, it was three, don’t you remember the one a few months ago who really wanted-“ Law interrupted him by standing up and taking our two plates from the table, leaving me exposed as I quickly covered my thigh with the robe.
 Looking at me with a smug smile, the blond whispered, “It’s actually three times like this, but we sometimes do other things- not like we fuck, but-“ Surprised by his words, I did not let it show on my face and made a gesture with my hand to tell him to go on, “Just, stop beating around the bush, I really don’t care what he, or you, used to do,” I shrugged, still curious about what they used to do. I was not going to be nosy and ask but part of me hoped he wouldn’t keep doing whatever they used to do when we’ll really be together… Unless we’ve talked about it.
 “Right, I feel like you kinda like showing off, am I wrong?” I couldn’t blame him for going straight to the point as I asked, but his question caught me off guard and I threw a glance at Law who was coming back from the kitchen with a neutral expression on his face.
 Looking at Law, embarrassed, I said, “Did you tell him about-“ “I didn’t tell him anything, I’d live better if he did not meddle with my shit, believe me,” Law replied before I could finish my sentence. I looked back at the blond and shrugged, “I don’t really know why it’s relevant,” I started, my face heating up. What was one supposed to do in this situation? I was not about to tell that stranger what turned me on, even though he seemed to have pinpointed the right thing. Denying sounded like a nice option though.
 “You’re not making it easier on me,” The blond glanced at Law, asking him to help out without words. He had seemed cocky enough to preach what he did many times with Law but was starting to get cold feet. Law quirked a brow and asked me to get up, which I did with him, my eyes still riveted on Rosinante. I was then brought to the bedroom, feeling Rosinante’s intense gaze following us. Once we were inside the room, Law left the door open and approached me.
 “The offer is simple, do you want to hear it?” He pulled me closer, sliding his hands inside the bathrobe to rest them on my hips, his thumbs brushing over the skin oh so delicately. “Go ahead, I’m really curious of what you might offer that won’t be ruined by your great colleague-“ “The attitude stays outside the bedroom, let’s start again. Do you want to hear the offer?” He breathed right next to my ear more sternly, his grip on my hips was tighter.
 I held his forearm and held back a huff, mumbled, “Yes sir” I don’t believe I had said it in front of him, ever, since we learnt about one another. And it felt ten times worse than saying it to a stranger online, this time I could see the smirk on his face when he looked at me with a certain pride, my body was burning up from simply folding, submitting, over nothing. And I was enjoying it.
 “He likes to watch, you like to be looked at, you like being the center of attention,” he explained slowly. His hands were now gripping the lapel of the bathrobe, I held his hands to stop them from removing the item just yet. “I don’t know… it seemed like you didn’t want to do any of this, earlier. You seemed angry at him, maybe we shouldn’t have him here,” I said softly, earning an earnest smile from the man in front of me as he cradled my face in his hands.
 “Because he is wasting my time while I could be having you on your knees, your mouth eager to do your best to please me…” My eyes widened, his action was tender, but his words were salacious, and yet it mixed so well together. “Or maybe tonight could be all about you, I believe I promised I’d tie you up to the bedpost, or maybe we could work on more discipline, I remember you enjoyed it greatly,” He paused and gauged my reactions. I was breathing more heavily than moments ago, recalling his promises.
 The more he talked, the more I felt this need to prove I could take whatever he gave me. I wanted him to praise me like he did so many times before, I wanted him to be able to flaunt me, and what better way to do so than to give him a show, to him and his friend. “He doesn’t join, he just watches, right?” I asked in a low tone, my eyes darting at the blond who was watching us from the dining table. He had his elbow resting on the table, his head leaning on his fist while smiling lazily. “That’s the plan, it’s purely sexual,” Law forced me to look at him, his fingers on my chin, “Just because he’s there doesn’t mean I won’t be taking care of you, it’s sexual for him, but it’s something different for us, understood?”
 “I just ignore him, then?”
“No, no, you better be fully aware of him, know you’re being watched…” He slowly helped me shrug off the bathrobe, placing himself in front of me to block the sight to Rosinante. “And I’d expect my girl to give us a show I know she’s capable of, so do you agree?” This was exciting, I never expected to be part of something like this. And with or without the blond man in the other room, I would have still felt over the moon knowing what Law was about to do to me. “Yes, do we still use the colours? In case I want to stop, for any specific reason- not that I think I will use it, I trust you-“
 “Colours, yes. But remember that even if you trust me, you can stop everything. The moment it’s too much, not that I aim for it to be, you tell me. Are we clear?” There was real worry in his eyes, and I couldn’t help but roll my eyes playfully but nodded. Wanting to get started, I looked at him with a widening smile and let my hand wander to the knot of his sweatpants.
“I do remember our conversations you know, no need to repeat yourself,” I started, “And you haven’t fucked my brains out enough for me to forget it, just yet. Maybe it was an empty promise,” I was stopped dead in my tracks by his hand gripping mine.
 “Then you remember I said to be patient, and to leave the attitude out of the bedroom,” He said in faux-politeness as he pulled me closer, his hand let go of mine to pull at the leash-like rope around my neck. I huffed a chuckle and looked at him, satisfied.
“The door’s open, it came back rushing in,” I breathed out, talking about the attitude I supposedly left outside the room.
 Law watched me a moment before humming, a dark smile on his lips, “You want to play it like that, let’s,” he stepped away from me and I felt a shiver run down my spine, I wanted to get things heated because it had started quieting down, but now I had a price to pay. I had barely done anything, but Law jumped on the occasion to take the attitude down a notch. He grinned mischievously and told me to follow him as he sat at the edge of the bed and told me to kneel in front of him.
 “Are you serious-“ “Color?”
I huffed, “Green.”
“Then I’m deadly serious, on your knees.” His tone was stern, but his face showed something else. His half-lidded eyes watched me make way towards him and stop right in front of him. I threw a quick glance at the blond through the doorway and saw him with the seat fully facing the room and his hands on his lap for now. He gestured for me to go on. My eyes widened at that, does he expect me to listen to him? I looked back at Law and instead of kneeling in front of him, I placed my hands on his shoulders and moved one of my leg over his to straddle him.
 He gripped the back of my legs tight to get me off of him, “Are you acting out on purpose, to give Cora a show? Is this what’s going on?” He asked, while standing up, power dripping off his voice. I wanted to tell him no, but I think I did. It felt weird to submit in front of someone other than Law, and I wanted to put it off as long as I could. I looked to the side once more, this time Law gripped my chin forcefully to make me look at him, “Is my girl getting shy?” He asked as he tucked a strand of hair behind my ear, his lips grazing my lobe. “I’ll say it only once: when I ask you a question, you answer, go,” He slid his hand to the back of my neck and made me look at him.
 “I’m not shy, I’m just not used to this- and you surprised me with asking me to get on my knees,” I whispered back, noticing the grin that spread on his face.
“Don’t play the innocent act, I recall you were very eager to suck your toy off when it was just you and me, correct?” He breathed against my neck as his fingers slipped over the rope to grab my ass and bring my leg over his, still standing up. His other hand grazed over my ass, then I felt his fingers brush between my legs and gasped. I gripped his hand before trying to have his fingers touch my clit, but it had the opposite effect.
 Grunting, he slapped my hand off his and held me in place, “Look at you, grinding against my fingers already. Don’t tell me you’re that desperate yet?”
“I’m not, you’re talking more than you’re doing, right now,” I regretted it instantly when a scowl formed on his forehead, quickly turning into an expression that said he accepted the challenge.
 “That needy look of yours says something else. Here, I’ll help you out, but first,” He stepped away from me and sat on the bed, his legs open wide, “First we’ll put you back in your place. I have the perfect gag for that pretty mouth of yours,”
 I was about to kneel when I noticed he was still fully dressed, when I reached for his shirt, he gripped my wrists tight. “That’s one too many, if you’re in a bratty mood then all I’ll have to do is discipline you, don’t you agree?” I agree, whispering a ‘yes sir’ which made him laugh as he told me to get on my knees, hands behind my back. He then stood up and went to the drawer behind me. I did as he told me, knowing I had crossed the limit but couldn’t help but feel excited.
 “We’re going to test that patience of yours, look at me,” When I did, a smirk pulled the corner of his lips. I followed his form until he was sitting in front of me, I could see the bulge in his pants that at this point demanded to be freed, when I glanced at it, Law’s smirk only widened. “Let me tell you how good you look on your knees like that,” He praised as he leaned back only slightly on one of his hand as the other held what I believe was a riding crop. The latter placed itself under my chin to raise it up, “Here’s what’s going to happen: you use that mouth for something good, no touching, if I see you trying to move your hands….” He trailed off and looked at the riding crop.
 “Then I strike you.”
 He paused, gauging my reaction. And from the way my breath hitched in my throat, he had guessed I would enjoy it. “If you want to stop, you make a peace sign with your hand behind your back, understood?” I nodded, and he told me to do one right now to make sure I understood. Once I did, he smiled genuinely and pulled out his cock from his sweatpants. It was now fully erected and while I had seen it through different pictures, I wanted it more now. He stroked his cock lazily a few times, then beckoned me to come closer, “Open your mouth,” he slid it in slowly, praising me as he did so, “There we go, good girl,”
 Instinctively, I was about to move my hands to grab the base of his cock but was struck before I could do so. I moaned at the stinging pain, breathing through my nose before starting to bob my head the best I could without the balance of my hand. I started licking him slowly, making sure to let my tongue press the tip of his cock more than the rest, suckling on the tip from time to time. I relished in the groans it elated from him. His free hand slid to the base of my neck, maybe he was unsure of how I’d react if he did more.
 Dragging my lips back and forth on his length, making sure to use my tongue around it, I twirled my tongue around his tip, looking him dead in the eyes. “Grab my hair, are you the one feeling shy now, doc?” I licked my lips when he grabbed a fistful of hair and pulled my head back to have me look at him from a different angle. I gasped at the pain, my mouth open yet smiling, so was he. He was smiling smugly as he looked down at me, enjoying the sight a lot more than he was showing it. I moved a bit to use my heel to get some friction and was struck down to stop.
 Chuckling breathlessly, I quirked a brow, it only unnerved him more, “You’re being a lot more disobedient when we have company, I can’t have him think you’re untamed now, can I?” He breathed against my lips, I closed my eyes, expecting a kiss from him but was met with a leathery texture. Opening my eyes, I realized Law was brushing the riding crop over my lips, I opened my mouth once more, he did not wait to brush it over my tongue. Giving it a little tap, startling me before bringing his hand that was holding it, over my shoulder.
 “So desperate for it, so eager… But so, fucking, insubordinate- if you want it so bad you better start taking it,” He breathed, “And it’s: yes sir, not doc,” Without further warning, he shoved my head over his cock, and I moaned around it when I felt it hit the back of my throat. It made him laugh breathlessly, groaning at the same time as he kept guiding my head onto his cock. When I hollowed my cheeks around it, a sigh escaped his lips and he paused for a moment, leaning in. Before he could speak, I uttered, “Did I say you could stop?”
 His brows raised and all playfulness was gone from his eyes, mine widened and I felt a shiver run down my spine. Fuck, I shouldn’t have done that, I thought as I straightened my back, about to move my hands to hold his thighs, I was struck down before I could do anything. The moan that escaped my lips was more embarrassing than anything, I could feel a rush of heat coursing through my body. He let go of my hair and instead gripped my jaw tightly, “I can’t praise you when you’re being anything but good,” He said sternly,
 “From what I’m seeing, you want it rough, and I’m ready to give it...” He trailed off, his eyes traveling over my form while his finger brushed over my drooling lips, “Unless you make it up to me, and stop fighting me,” I averted my eyes, thinking, but quickly looked back at Law when he tutted me, saying “Eyes over here,”
 “Keep that little game up and I promise, I’ll have you tied up in the middle of the bed with a toy inside you and no fucking relief,” He said loud enough for Rosinante to hear it, I tried to glance at him but had Law’s leg in the way and huffed, “Or you give up the reins, and let me lead the dance,” He continued, his finger pulling my lip down before opening my mouth, his thumb on my teeth. I licked it without answering, hands still behind my back.
 “So, what do you say, are you going to be good now?” I nodded. He struck me down, I gasped in pleasure feeling the new spot on my back sting more than the other times, “What did I say? Words.”
With his finger still in my mouth, I articulated the best I could, “I’ll be good, sir. I’m sorry-“ “You will be, let’s have you apologize properly hm? Open wide,” Once again, I took him in, I did not waste time to try and take him deeper than I had before, making him moan out of breath as his hand settled under my chin on my throat. He wasn’t gripping it tightly; If anything, I believe he was feeling the bulge of his cock in my throat and getting off on knowing he did that.
 I saw his composure slip as he leaned back and started bucking his hips in my mouth, “That’s it, take it- all- like a good- little- pet-“ Each words were emphasized by a thrust, I tried to meet them all and could feel tears streaming down my face at the effort it took fort me not to gag. Sounds of our heavy breathings and moans, mixed with groans of pleasure, echoed on the walls until he pulled out. He had stopped himself before reaching climax and was still very hard, I licked his cock clean before wiping my mouth and chin on his pants.
 With a lazy smile, he leaned in and grabbed the rope to pull me closer, his lips ghosting over mine, “Are you going to behave, now?”
Raised on my knees, I tried to meet his lips, but he struck me without thinking twice about it, “A question, an answer, is it so hard?” I shook my head, gulping and replied in a sore voice, “I’ll behave, sir.” He then whispered, “Good girl,” before bringing me into a kiss, tender at first but it quickly turned more hungry, more needy. I wanted to bring him closer, taking his face in my hands to feel him but focused on keeping my hands behind my back.
 He must have sensed my struggle since he broke the kiss to look at me intently, “While you do look good on your knees…” He let go of the rope and stood up, making sure to take the riding crop with him. I tensed when I felt it touch my back, knowing how raw my skin was, and how it still felt like it was burning. Yet, I wanted to lean in, and I was ready to beg for more. But instead, I looked straight ahead, and waited. “When I say good, I mean, exquisite…” I moved my hands to my lap, thinking it’d be better for him.
 I was wrong. “I didn’t say you could do that,” Another hit, this time at the juncture of my shoulder blade and my neck, another breathless moan, another quick move as I brought my hands back in my back. I was startled once more when I felt his presence over me, his lips brushing over my ear, “I knew you’d make the most sinful sounds,” His teeth grazed the shell of my ear, biting it just enough to feel them.
 “But I think seeing the tears rolling down your face,” he started, gripping my chin tightly to make me look up at him, my jaw clenched, “… and your pretty mouth fucked out, unable to talk back, that’s how I want it,” He continued, his eyes riveted on the drying tears on my cheeks as his thumb brushed over them. He then leaned over and placed a kiss on my forehead, “You did good. Now, let’s get my girl in a more comfortable position, what do you say?” I didn’t move but whispered back in agreement. It made him laugh as he let go of my face and told me that I could move.
 I had to hold onto his arm when I stood up and wobbled. Having stayed on my knees too long made my articulations hurt but it felt good to finally be standing, it did not last long when Law had me lay down on my back after making sure I was alright. “I’m alright, in fact I could have taken it a bit longer, if you want to know,” I told him teasingly, talking about his thrusts in my throat. He stopped mid-way, a knee on the bed, still wearing his pants. “Your sore voice says otherwise,” he replied in a tone just as light, he gave me a once over before leaning to the side and getting an unopened bottle of water from the side of the bed.
 “If you’re still that eager, we better take care of you before any more fun, mh?” Opening it, he told me to drink some more before continuing, I reached out for the bottle and saw that my hands were slightly shaking. I thought it wasn’t noticeable until Law scooted closer and was ready to help me drink. I simply took the bottle from his hand, brought a pillow to cover my front and took large gulps, maybe letting some spill down my chin and over my throat.
 Law watched me carefully, an interested smile on his face, “It’s funny how you’re trying to act decent by covering yourself, and yet, intentionally bring my attention to you,” He took the bottle from my hand and put it on the nightstand before pushing me down and throwing the pillow away. His lips latched onto my throat as he licked the trickling drop away, starting from the bottom to finally reach my chin where he kissed my lips softly. “Let’s ruin that made-up sense of decency and make it as debauched as we can,”
 Kissing him back, I chuckled at how promising it sounded and suggested enthusiastically, “Then let’s start by taking those pants off,” When I slithered my hands to the string of his pants, he quickly pinned them over my head making me yelp in surprise, and excitement once more. I wrapped my hands the best I could around his, or at least touched the back of his hand with the tip of my fingers, “Let’s make something clear, because you seem to forget I’m the one who’s leading this dance,” He started, his free hand hovering right above my breast as he very delicately ghosted his finger over my nipple, making me gasp when I felt the wetness from his skin.
 I looked at him more carefully and saw him dip his finger inside the water bottle to just have me even more sensitive as he brushed it against my skin. All the while playing with my nipples, he spoke, “That mouth of yours is allowed to do four things. One, answer when I ask a question, two, beg, three, moan, four, scream my fucking name. Is that understood?” Although he asked it in a stern tone, making sure I was going to obey and not act out, I couldn’t help the smile on my face as I nodded, “Yes, sir,” I was thoroughly enjoying the sight of him with his lips, mere breaths away from my nipple.
 Looking at him expectantly, I bit the inside of my lips as he approached closer and closer, his breath cooling the wetness on my skin. I let out a satisfied sigh when I felt his warm tongue balancing the coldness of my hardened nipple. Thinking he was solely focused on my breasts; I was surprised when I felt his hand slowly travel down my stomach and to my thighs. He paused there and drummed his fingers there a moment before starting to draw little patterns with the tip of his fingers. I wasn’t getting anything. His tongue was working on my breasts, but that was it. I wanted more, I needed more.
So, I threw a glance at the door, but I couldn’t see anything from this angle. Casting my pride aside, I mumbled Law’s name, followed by, “Please…” He stopped everything, and quirked a brow, a smug smile on his lips, “I didn’t quite catch that, pet. A bit louder, go ahead,” His tongue resumed its work on my nipples, this time his hands joining. I was trying to arch my back to feel him more, my breathing getting only heavier, it made it impossible to not feel the ropes around my form. “I’m not hearing anything, maybe I should stop-“ “Please, sir… Please, more, everything,”
 “Good girl,” He breathed against my lips before pressing his against mine very slowly, his tongue prying my mouth open as he deepened the kiss. It heated up quickly, I threaded my hands through his hair to pull him closer only to have him laugh breathlessly as he broke the kiss. “Show me how bad you want it,” He sat back on the bed, still between my legs and wrapped my legs around his hips, he started kissing my inner thigh softly as he spoke, “I’ll be right there, and you will be touching yourself for me,”
 Sitting up, I quickly moved my hands behind my back to show him I wasn’t doing anything with them, and saw the grin displayed on his lips. I continued, “Law- really? No, please, I don’t want to wait any longer, please?” Pulling me closer by my thighs, I gasped and almost lost balance but gripped his forearms tightly. “You’ll wait, because I told you to. You want to be good, don’t you?” A shiver ran down my spine, I looked off to the side but didn’t reply. He continued, “You think I forgot, all that we talked about those past few nights?” He whispered against my ear.
 “How desperate you were for me to guide you, obeying each of my command…” He left a kiss behind my ear, trailing to the side of my neck, the hair on my body rose, I was thrilled. I felt his hand travel up my body, to one of my arms, down to my hand were the held me a moment, “And how little time it took for you to show off,” He brought my hand between our body, I reached for his pants but he tutted me, “to spread those legs,” He spread his, spreading mine in the process, “and to touch yourself to the sound of my voice?” I wasn’t looking at him, instead my eyes were focused on his body, on how his hand felt around mine.
 “Not with your friend here, please,” I whispered hesitantly. It felt more intimate like this, to touch yourself in front of someone, than being literally fucked in front of someone, I was afraid Law would find it annoying but instead he chuckled. “He left a moment ago, when I brought you on the bed, I told him to leave,” He explained. I rose to my knees to look behind Law’s back and indeed saw that no one was on the chair, I felt more comfortable to do as Law suggested, but wanted to hear more of him. When I sat back, my legs still around his hips, he looked at me with a look of almost-hunger.
 I chuckled nervously, never leaving his gaze. With a smug smile, his free hand caressed my throat slowly. “That doesn’t mean we’re done, I believe I was reminding you of how obedient you were before and how much you misbehaved tonight, mh?” “I’m good now, I promise,” I said clearly, not wanting to let it transpire that I kind of enjoyed how he handled the attitude.
“Then, show me how good you are, pet,” He guided my hand between my legs, and pressed my fingers with his, right behind my hand. “I’m sure you know what to do from there,” I nodded, and did exactly as he wanted, to help I rested my forehead on his shoulder and closed my eyes to focus more but was quickly stopped.
 “That won’t do, show me your pretty face,” When I did, he smiled and pressed his lips on my throat, “That’s it, a lot better, good girl,” I let out a shaky breath upon hearing the words, and had to hold myself back from leaning back on his shoulder. It became harder when his tongue trailed down my neck, leaving hickeys all over it, but he was still talking between as he busied himself,
 Isn’t it easier like that? To do exactly as I tell you. I find it easier to praise my girl when she is acting like the good girl, I know she is. Not when she’s bratting out. Needy for my cock. Eager to get fucked. Desperately clinging onto the power. Not letting go of it. But we both know you relish in being powerless, don’t you? Being told what to do. I can see how much you enjoy it. Look at you, fucking yourself on my lap. If you keep making those sounds, I won’t be able to hold back, doll.
 Meeting his gaze once more, I said his name in the most desperate way I could. I didn’t want him to hold back, I wanted him to fuck me. Feeling myself getting close, I stopped and held onto Law’s shoulders before starting to roll my hips over his. He groaned and stopped talking, instead he gripped my hips forcefully to hold me in place. “Such a needy little thing, aren’t you?” He didn’t wait for my answer to throw me on my back and take off his pants. He reached out for the drawer in his nightstand and pulled out a condom before kneeling back between my legs and rolling the condom on.
 “Seeing how fucking needy you are, I would be tempted to see how many times I can make you cum until you’re finally satiated,” He looked me up and down before smirking, “But I think you’ve had quite a ride tonight,” I nodded, arching my back at the feeling of the sheets brushing against my pained back. Grinning, Law slid a hand between my leg and hovered there a moment, “Did you go a good job, or do I need to finger you myself?” It wasn’t a need more than a want, I would never say no to feeling his hands in me, on me, touching me, playing me like a toy.
 I wanted to tell him, “Law, just fuck me,” but I knew he wouldn’t like that, there was a power dynamic at play right now, I had to remember that. Yet I was also tempted to taunt him, get him more riled up but thought against it. It took some restraint, but I said, “I’m good-“ “Oh, I know you are, you are being very good, and I’m sure you’ll feel just as,” his elbows hooked under my knees, he did not waste time and started sheathing himself slowly, groaning in the process.
 A satisfied smile made its way on my lips, it felt so good, feeling him stretching me out, his hands gripping my legs with so much force it made the experience only more ecstatic. I pulled myself closer to him, making him hiss as he tried to hold back more sounds of pleasure from escaping his lips. Once he was fully in, he leaned in a moment, the muscles in my thighs were stretching but I was loving it. “What if I kept you like this?” I looked at him wide-eyed, about to refuse, but he continued, “That expression on your face, I’ll be sure to do it another time, but I want to make good use of my fucktoy tonight.”
 Pressing a kiss to my cheek, he trailed down and nibble the skin of my neck, “That’s what you are, mm? A good girl, but also my pretty little fucktoy,” He wanted me to say it, it felt weird to say it out loud, it didn’t want to roll of my tongue.
 Bucking his hips inside me, Law grunted, “I asked you a question,” I let out a breathless pant, my head diving in the pillows, “Sure, yes, I’m your fucktoy,” I huffed, trying to meet his hips once more, but he held me in place and pinned my hands over my head once more, his free hand turning my face to look at him. “Try again, without the attitude, I want to see your embarrassed face, I did say I’d ruin that silly pride of yours, did I not?” He asked rhetorically as he started thrusting very slowly inside me.
 Meeting his gaze, I felt my body heat up and stared at him the best I could, my mouth gasping soundlessly at each of his thrusts. When I closed my eyes to enjoy it more, he stopped, “You’re not going to get it, if you don’t say it, I am a patient man,” The way my name rolled of his tongue, made it a lot more sinful than I thought it could be. The staring contest lasted a few moments before I let it leave my mouth in a low tone, when I looked off to the side, I was tutted again and forced myself to look at him, jaw clenched, “I am your fucktoy, sir.”
 The smug smile on his face made me believe I was done with this, but his grip on my hands tightened when he leaned in and kissed me softly. It felt warm, and reassuring, unlike the grin that was now displayed on his lips, “Guess I’ll have to make you say it with more enthusiasm,” The pace of his thrusts quickened and deepened, each followed by a grunt. The expression on his face didn’t change, he was looking at me as if challenging me, I did not even try to match it, I was enjoying it too much.
 Mouth wide open, moans escaping my throat, back arched to meet each of his thrusts, my legs wrapped tighter around him to try and keep him deep inside me. My heels were digging his back, soon his thrusting was accompanied by soft praises, telling me how good I made him feel, how much he was enjoying the sight of me splayed out for him like that. My breath was erratic, I had a harder time to breath with the ropes, but I could still breathe well enough. It felt so good. I hadn’t realized I had begged for more until I heard his chuckle, “You’re taking me so well, let’s see how good you’ll do when you’re on your knees,” He pulled out and told me to turn around.
 With shaky limbs, I did as he gestured and pressed my chest on the bed, my hands on each side of my head, my ass up. As his hands caressed my ass, his cock teasing me, he leaned over and in a gentle voice asked my color, “Green, green,” I repeated it in case he hadn’t heard me with my head pressed against the mattress. One of his hand gently placed itself on my head and brushed my hair softly, before tracing his hand on my back, grazing his nails on my skin on the way. I whimpered at the sudden feeling, feeling even more elated.
 Without further warning, he slid his cock back in and started fucking me senseless, he did not take his time. He was going in wildly, slamming hips against his without ever stopping. I was moaning loudly, my hands gripping the sheets, when I tried to move one of my hand to touch my clit, he laughed and told me to not move them. I whined, thinking I wouldn’t get any of that heaven sent pleasure, but was caught off guard when one of his hand did exactly what I needed. His finger was playing with my clit, all the while his cock was being rammed mercilessly inside me.
 When my teeth clenched around the sheet to try to hold back my loud moaning, Law only went harder but more erratically, “I believe I said your mouth could do four things, mind reminding them to me?” I nodded against the mattress, but didn’t go ahead, I felt him move and felt the sudden stinging pain of the riding crop hitting my ass. A half-pain, half-pleasure gasp left my lips, as I obeyed, “Answer your- questions,” I breathed, wanting to cover my mouth when I interrupted myself by panting more groans. “Beg,” a strong thrust, a moan, “moan,” and again. “Scream your name-“ I felt his lips pressed against my neck as he whispered a praise, “That’s my girl,”
 “Now, since you’re being so good, I’ll tell you what’s going to happen, yes?” I nodded, he lazily played with my clit as his thrusts slowed down while he talked, “If by the time you’re going to cum, you haven’t admitted you’re my pretty little fucktoy,” he threaded his fingers through my hair and lifted my head to have me look at him, “And mean it, then I’ll stop, understood?” I looked at him through tired eyes, and yet with surprise. He wouldn’t do that, would he? As he if heard my thought, he smiled at me, a smile that told me he was entirely willing to do so. “Yes, sir.”
 The fingers that were threaded through my hair slid to my cheek and caressed it gently, “You’re so beautiful like that, let’s have you even more fucked out, mh?” Just like that, he resumed his thrusting. It wasn’t as consistent as before, making it harder to get used to the pace. When he hit the spot, I panted out his name and regretted right away, “Right- there?-“ he bucked his hips each time, making me let out high-pitched whimpers. He leaned over, and whispered, out of breath, “Time’s running out, pretty girl,” I couldn’t look at him.
 I was getting closer and closer at each thrust, my ability to speak getting lost on the way but it couldn’t let it happen. I had to tell him, but I was getting a bit foggy and out of it from how good I felt, yet I managed to utter between the melody of pleasure leaving my mouth, “Please- let me cum- I’m- fuck, your fucktoy- Law-“ A very satisfied grunt left his throat, while my face burnt hotter than fire, it was embarrassing to say so out loud, “Turn around, I want to see that pretty face of yours when I make you cum,”
 When I did, I tried to cover my face, but he moved my hands away, pining them over my head once more. “There, was it that hard? Look at you, you can’t be shy when moments ago you were practically begging for my cock,” “Law, fuck me, please,” I breathed out tiredly, needily, his expression lost its arrogance for a moment and was filled with surprise before returning to the cocky one. Without another word, he fucked me senseless as promised. It was wild, rough, I tried to bring his hand to my neck, but he only shook his head and told me not tonight before focusing back on the sensation of my walls around his cock.
 At this pace, we were both reaching our peak in no time. His thrusts were erratic, I was being loud but didn’t try to cover it, I knew he was enjoying it a lot and wanted him to feel as good as he made me feel. The mix of his cock hitting the perfect spot, his fingers stimulating my clit along the constricted feeling of the ropes around my chest brought me closer to release. I felt my toes curl as my back arched, the praising that flooded from Law’s mouth made me break, the knot inside my stomach snapped and I felt myself go limp. Law joined me soon, finishing off before pulling out.
 I was a bit dazed, but at some point, I saw Law kneel on the side of the bed with a washcloth and ointment. He first undid the ropes around my form, it took some time. I looked at him through tired eyes the entire time, he was focused but when he looked at me, a small smile was painted on his face. “You did good, we’ll talk more about that later-“ “I’m good right now, what do we talk about?” I slurred, was I that tired?
 “First, let’s take care of you. It was a bit rougher than I expected,” He said softly, when he was done with the ropes, he helped me lay on my stomach and covered my butt with a blanket as he put some ointment on my back. Maybe it was because I was only half-awake, or perhaps it was because I was dozing off even more with the massage I was receiving as he spread the ointment on my back, but I spoke, “I want to do this again… not right now, not all the time, because I think I’d like to just have casual sex with you along sessions like this too,”
 With my head resting on my arms, I glanced at Law, “But also go on a date, or more than one,” I mumbled against my arms. Law hadn’t answered yet and was now drying his hands as he handed me a shirt. For a moment, I thought I had fucked up once again. That I should have just left after the sex, but not only was I physically unable to do so at this instant, but I also did not want to. “You are aware my schedule is fucked up?”
 “That didn’t stop you from sexting a stranger from your office, did it?” I asked teasingly, making a blush appear on his cheeks as he stood up and put everything away. I only now realized he had dressed up once more. “What I’m saying is that, we can make it work if we want to, and… I don’t mind having online… fun if we’re both a bit busy but horny, you know?” a snort escaped his lips as he left the room and came back just as quickly with a plate in hand.
 “Would you be willing to go to charity galas? Because if we’re dating, there will be a lot of those,” He said softly, his cheeks still tainted with pink. I looked up at him curiously as I put on the shirt and sat up, groaning as I felt the soreness that was settling. “Would I have to wear a fancy outfit and look super hot?” I asked half-jokingly while taking the food he handed me. It felt so fucking good to eat after such an intense effort.
 Smiling genuinely, he nodded, “Yes, and maybe even add a little accessory, I think you’ve heard of it, it’s called a vibrating egg-“ “Law! Fuck off- it was- no, you know what? Let’s! I think it could be fun, but you can’t blame me if I pull you to the side when it’s too much- plus we were talking casually, did you have to bring that up?” I asked rhetorically, this time my cheeks were aflame. But we were both smiling, and when he placed a hand on my knee reassuringly and I placed mine on his.
 “It’s a strange situation but I think something good can come out of it, do we give it a try?” We had both talked about being willing to do this, but this time asking it like that felt a bit frightening. I feel like he could still refuse, and I was afraid of it, but still waited. “I’ll try my best to keep you entertained, Edelweiss,” He put an emphasis on my username before leaning in and kissing me softly. We both smiled into the kiss, feeling a lot better than we did when it started, almost content.
 Boredom makes you do crazy things, lack of free time too… but I think boredom won’t be a concern of mine no more, and no matter how busy I’ll be I’ll surely find some entertainment with the prettiest surgeon I would soon call partner, of more than research purposes.
[The end]
137 notes · View notes
unmaskedagain · 4 years
Text
Teenage Rebellion
I wanted to do something completely different. And I realized I had never really used Adrien’s character that much. Apart from the standard salt. So I decided to give him a better voice. Test my skills with a new character.
Adrien didn’t know what happened. What snapped inside of him? But he just knew that, one day, while his father was giving him a lecture and laying out demands, a funny little word popped in to his head; no. Then he started to wonder if he could say no. Then he heard Marinette her new internship only allowed her to work so many hours because she was only a kid. Then he heard something magical; child labor laws. He looked them up and was amazed. He wanted to know more; wanted to know what his options were. So he went to Marinette and Nino. Then explained that he had rights. When he mentioned about getting taken out of school, they gave him options of how to retaliate.
           Nevertheless, it would be weeks before he decided to implement his new idea; not daring to yet. When he finally struck, he knew exactly what the final straw had bene.
“You’ll be taking Miss Rossi to the gala next weekend,” Gabriel told his son.
           Adrien blinked, “No.”
           The room went silent. Nathalie and gorilla looked stunned. Gabriel glanced at his son, “What do you mean no. This is not up for debate.”
Nothing ever was, Adrien thought, and that was problem.
“You’re right,” Adrien nodded. “Which is why my answer is still no.”
           Gabriel assessed his usually obeying son. “I’m not asking.”
“And yet my answer is no.”
“And if you could no longer attend that school of yours?” Gabriel threatened. It always worked.
           Adrien shrugged. “Then I will no longer model.”
           More stunned silence.
“Adrien,” Gabriel pinched his nose but was cut off.
           Adrien crossed his arms, “You can’t make me model.” He looked around at his three caretakers. “And if you try, I’ll scream loud enough for every reporter in Paris to hear me. And while we’re on the subject; I read something about child labor laws. You’re breaking them. I’ll scream that too. If that doesn’t stop, if I don’t start working normal kid hours and eating a healthy amount of food,” He threw the last part at Nathalie. She had been instructed to keep him on a strict diet. “I’ll go to the police. CPS. The news.”
           Gabriel opened his mouth to speak again but again was cut off.
“Even if you try to keep me in here,” Adrien added. “It will just look worse. People will question where I am. The Brand will hurt. My friends will look for me. They’ll ask questions. They’ll spread what it’s really like for me. How unhappy I am. My fans will riot. Even more when I finally do get out of here and go straight to the police, a reporter; maybe do a tell-all on Alya’s blog. Oh wait, I already left several copies of that already previously recorded interview that will be released if I don’t show up for class for a few days.”
           The three adults stood with opened mouths. Nathalie was the first to recover, “Adrien, we can discuss this…”
“No!” Adrien glared. “I’m done. You worked me to the bone, starved me, neglected me,” He threw that viciously at Gabriel who flinched, “Attempted again and again to isolate me from my friends. All of which is called child abuse. And now you want to control my romantic interests; tell that shrew Rossi to stay the hell away from me. I will never work with her again. Let me make this very clear. I have evidence of the child labor laws broken. I have video proof the various meals I’ve been served that never once met my nutritional intake. Recordings of various times you threatened me with my removal from school if I didn’t meet various demands and achievement. I have witness testimony from other models, my friends, current and former Agreste fashion employees of my treatment. I have no trouble releasing every last bit of information.”
           Adrien took a breath after his rant. “This is my life. I will live it my way. From now on, one third of every paycheck I earn, and I do know the amounts, will be deposited into my personal bank account. The rest of into the saving account mother set up for me. In fact, I want the last six months of checks deposited the same. I want freedom. And if I have to destroy you to get it, I will. Push me, and I’ll push back.” With that, he spun around and left the room. Gorilla followed after him dutifully.
“What do we do?” Nathalie asked. “About Adrien, sir?”
           Gabriel glared harshly at where his son at stood, “What can we do?” As much as it killed him to admit it, his son had them on the edge of cliff and looked rather happy at the idea of pushing them off. “I don’t look good in prison orange.” He sighed. “We’ll get him back under control soon enough.”
           Nathalie nodded. Neither did she. “I’ll call Rossi and tell her plans have changed.” Everything had changed.
           Later that day, Nathalie presented him with his bank card that she taken at Gabriel’s demand and gave him a stiff nod. He turned with a beaming smile to Gorilla, “We’re getting McDonalds!”
           Nathalie let out a cry of protest but was ignored.
           That day Adrien had his first big mac and fries. It was the biggest meal he’d eaten in months, so his stomach hurt a little, but he couldn’t stop smiling.
           He got a call from his father when he was finished. When his dad immediately began to yell at him about not following his diet; Adrian hung up on him. The blond shook his head. He had warned his father; push and Adrien would push back.
           He looked around and spotted some punk skaters skating down the street. Adrien smirked. Oh, he had an idea.
           Marinette had been thrilled when he called to see if she was free to go shopping with him. Less thrilled, when they wound up at Hot topic.
“Why?” The bluenette whined. “Just why? I have so many ideas.”
Over the last two years, the two had become really good friends. They got even close when Chat Noir and Ladybug revealed their identities to each other. Mostly because they lost their crushes on each other. Marinette on Adrien. And Adrien on Ladybug. It was just too weird for either of them.
“This is what I want!” Adrien smiled as he looked through the band Ts and a lot of nightmare before Christmas merchandise.
“But sunshine!” Marinette pleaded. She started to pull out shirts and accessories that look like they would fit Adrien’s build. “Happiness?”
           Adrien laughed, “Storm cloud. Make my father miserable.”
           Marinette paused. “Happiness.” She nodded. She had wanted to stick it to Gabriel Agreste for years; the rotten bastard.
           The girl ended up approving seven potential outfits from Hot Topic. Adrien bought them all. Then Marinette dragged the boy to other various stores. If Adrien was going to punk rock; then it would be a fashion and, dare she say it, chic punk rock look. Though she did have to drag Adrien away from the piercing salon.
           When Adrien got home, Gabriel attempted to discipline him again but was met with stony silence. Adrien pulled out his phone and played a recording of Gabriel chastising Adrien not being thin enough and that his diet would be limited to 1000 calories a day.
           The blond boy raised an eyebrow, “I can have this trending within the hour. Your move.”
           Gabriel growled and stomped off. He had honestly thought his son had been jesting about the recordings, about evidence, or at very least could be cowed not use any of it. He was wrong, apparently; very wrong.
           When Adrien left for school the next mornings, he caused his father to have a panic attack. Gone was the preppy, sunshine child the world was used to. The fifteen-year-old Adrien wore dark green ripped jeans; a studded leather jacket over a black My Chemical Romance shirt. He wore combat boots and eyeliner. “You were warned,” Adrien told his father on his way out of the door. “Keep pushing though.”
“Oh my god, he’s dead,” Nino said to Adrien when he got to class. “Gabriel Agreste.” He started to pretend to tear up. “You want something for so long. And when it finally happens. You wonder what to do.” He suddenly straightened. “I know let’s throw a party. It will end will a conga line over the SOB’s grave.”
“My father’s not dead,” Adrien rolled his eyes as he took his seat in the back. When Marinette had been moved there, he had follow much to the complaints of Lila. “Though it was a pretty close call this morning.”
           Most people hadn’t recognized him as he walked through the halls of the school. It was a relief to just be normal.
           When the other students arrived, he had gotten double glances. The first was when they said hello, then quickly looked again when they realized something was very, very wrong.
“Holy shit,” Juleka said loudly. The loudest anyone had ever heard her speak. She blushed. “Sorry. You look rocking, Adrien.”
           Rose just kept blinking at him. “But, but, team sunshine?” She whispered. Adrien cooed. The two had been dubbed that by the class after a bad storm came in and all the class got soaked but the two kept smiling and trying to cheer people up.
“Team positive?” He offered.
           A squeak let him know, Marinette had arrived. She looked over him, “What did I do?” She sat went to her desk. “What did I do?”
“Not enough,” Nino stated. “A little bit more. And we could’ve been doing the Cha slide over Gabriel’s grave right now. Step your game up, dudette. Cause you’re slacking.”
           Marinette just closed her eyes and prayed for patience; having boys as her best friends wasn’t easy. Adrien and Nino had become her closest friends, after Lila came and tried to tear everyone away from her. She sort of succeeded. Alya was no longer her friend. Neither was Mylene, Sabrina, Ivan, or Kim. Everyone else in chose to believe the girl they’d known forever over the some chick they just met. Unfortunately, this cause Alya and Nino to break up. Nino was fine with remaining a neutral about whether Lila was a liar, though he thought she was, to keep the peace with his girlfriend. But Alya hadn’t budged and kept harping on the situation; about Nino being friend with Marinette. Nino had no choice but to end things which just cause the girl to get even angrier.
“Group selfie?” Adrien asked. “Juleka, you too. Come on, Rose.”
           The five grouped together, and snapped a picture of Adrien’s phone, “Hashtag: new Look, new me. Hashtag: Smells like Teen Spirit.”
           More gasps were heard as Lila and Alya, their posse, arrived. “What happened?” Lila frowned.
“Got a new look,” Adrien grinned.
           Lila glared. She had been warned that Adrien had gotten out of Gabriel’s control but hadn’t believed it. “You won’t wear that on our date to the gala, right?”
“We’re not dating,” Adrien said bluntly. “I’m not going to the gala with you.” He shook his head. “I’ve told you too many times already, Lila. I will never date you. I don’t like you. I have never liked you. I’m sorry.”
           Lila huffed, “Your father!” She started.
           Adrien cut her off, “Can my ass!” He yelled. “I don’t care. Call it teenage rebellion or whatever. But It’s my life. Get over it.”
No, Lila thought, this couldn’t be happening. Adrien was her ticket in. At the gala she’d be on his arm and get attention from all sorts of celebrities.
           Alya bristled on behalf of her friend, “You don’t have to be so mean.”
           Nino glared back, “He wouldn’t have to be if she could take a hint. No means no.”
“He could give her chance,” Alya continued. “How will he know if he really likes or not if he doesn’t.”
“Because he said he doesn’t,” This time it was Rose who spoke. “Adrien, and everyone else, is allowed to decide that they don’t like someone; that they don’t want to date them. You should respect that.”
           Lila started crying, big fake tears rolled down her cheeks, “I like you so much,” She pleaded. “I know you’d like me too if you got to know.”
           Adrien scoffed, “I know exactly who you are, Lila. And that’s the root of why I don’t like you.”
           At this Lila had to force herself not to glare. Fine, she thought, if he wanted to be like that, then she had another card to play. “Marinette put you up to this, didn’t she? She’s been bullying me. And got inside your heard with all her mean words; that’s why you don’t like me.”        
  Everyone on Lila’s side turned fierce looks toward the Asian girl, accusation on their tongue.
“How could you?” Mylene asked. “You’ve changed, Marinette.”
“Not cool, Bro,” Kim added. He had been crushing on Lila for months and followed her around like a puppy.
“You’re as bad as Chloe ever was,” Alya shook her head. “I can’t believe you’d hurt Lila over your jealously!”
Adrien wasn’t having it, “I. Don’t. Like. You!” He yelled at Lila. “I didn’t like you the moment you first came to this class. It has nothing to do with Marinette. It’s you. You’re the problem. Get it?  Got it? Good.” He looked at Lila’s friends. “Marinette is not a bully. She is one of my best friends; my sister, even. And unlike you, she actually listens to me; what I want. Not pant after Lila’s every word.”
The class blinked, stunned because they never really heard Adrien tell anyone off before.
“Well, who are you taking to gala,” Lila asked snidely, and gave a quick mean look at Marinette.
“His boyfriend!” Nino suddenly blurted. “Ouch!” He hissed.
           Marinette had kicked the glasses-wearing boy’s chair as hard as she could.
           Adrien just went with it. He had come out to most of the class the year before and never made his sexuality a secret; he liked guys, or at least preferred them. His desire for Ladybug had come from his love had for the freedom he got whenever he was Chat Noir. He was happiest as Chat Noir, and seeing as Ladybug had always been present; he thought he’d be happiest with Ladybug. He was only a little right.
“He’s looking forward to it,” Adrien smiled, or at least, whatever guy he could convince to go with him, hopefully would be.
“What were you thinking,” Marinette hissed at Nino as soon as the bell rang ending first period, and they were in the halls.
“What?” Nino asked. “You’re the only who can make an attempt on Gabriel Agreste? Nope. Don’t think so. First best friend gets dips.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” Adrien whispered.
“So, borrow Marinette’s,” Nino shrugged.
           Marinette gasped, “I’m not sharing my boyfriend with Blond Wonder over here.”
“What? Can’t take the competition?” Nino asked.
“I’ll end you, Lahiffe!”
“That’s not a no.”
           Adrien laughed.
           Juleka brushed by him, “I can ask Luka if he’s free,” She asked with a whisper. “If you want.”
           The three paused. It was a good suggestion. “Aurore would come for blood,” Their newest friend had the biggest crush on the guitarist.
           The rest of the school had been interesting. Adrien’s photo was trending; though nearly everyone in school had tried to get look at him.
           When Adrien got home from school that day, it was to Gabriel and Nathalie’s angry looks. They had tried to do damage control. But for everything they released, Adrien had been quick to either deny their claims via tweets. Or lease video on Instagram about his new fashion direction.
“This is enough, Adrien,” Gabriel stated calmly. “You’ve gone too far. You will be escorting Miss Rossi to the gala, and this look will never be seen again. Am I understood?”
           Adrien pulled out his phone, dialed a number, and put it on speak, “Hey man, do you still have that video of my dad pulling me out of school, during an important, test to go to a photoshoot?”
“Sure do.” Nino replied smugly.
“What about all the videos I sent you from overnight shoots?” He asked. “Where I worked like all night. Videos that clearly depicts that child labor laws were broken.”
“Saved on several different clouds.” Nino answered. “I can have them online in five minutes. And sent to the police and CPS in ten.”
“Thanks, talk later.” Adrien disconnected the call. “You were saying?” He asked his father. Silence was all he got. “Thought so. I’m taking my boyfriend to the gala.” He turned around. “I’m going out.”
           Gabriel pinched his nose, “He’ll ruin us.”
“No sir,” Nathalie said. “He’ll destroy us.”
           Adrien showed up at Marinette’s room an hour later, with a pleading look on his face and a box of hair dye.
           Marinette took it with a sigh, “Are you sure it’s not me you’re trying to hurt.”
“It’s not permanent?” He offered weakly. “Should last a week, maybe less. I wash my hair a lot.”
           When Adrien came to school sporting bright blue locks, three girls fainted.
“Awesome,” Nino high-fived the former blond. “How’s your dad?”
“Collapsed and fell down the stairs.” Adrien gave a small smirk. At the sight of Adrien’s hair, Gabriel had clutched his arms and just fell. “He was near the bottom so he was hurt too much.”
“Righteous,” Nino said and turned to look at Marinette in her seat, “What part of bestie gets dibs do you not understand?”
           Marinette crossed her arms and sniffed, “Maybe I’m not the one needs to step their game up.”
“What?” Nino gasped. “Oh it’s on!”
           Nino would later met Adrien and Marinette for ice cream, he’d come on the back of some guy’s motorcycle. “Hey,” Nino waved. The dude he was with gave them a stiff nod and a cocky smirk. He was blond with a cool haircut, tattoos, and two different colored eyes. “This is Jace. I know him through my cousin Simon. He’s seventeen. He has tattoos, drives a motorcycle, dress primarily in black and leather, and he’s been to jail. He agreed to be your date to the gala.”
           Marinette and Adrien just stared. Adrien blinked too hard to shake the shock away, “Wow you really want my dad dead.”
           He blushed red. Jace was rather attractive. He was the type who knew just how hot he was too.
“Hi I’m Marinette,” Marinette waved to Jace. “You’re freakishly hot. And if you manage to take out Nathalie too, I’ll be your best friend.”
           Jace chuckled. This could be fun. Maybe Simon hadn’t steered him wrong when he told him to hang out with his cousin if he had the time. He had research Nino and his friends to the last detail, just in case. “Hi Marinette. I’ll do my best to try. My sister Isabelle and my best friend Clary love your MDC designs. They’d kill for them. Won’t even make it look like an accident.”
           Marinette blushed, “Pull this off and I’ll design the dresses of their dreams for free.”
           Jace fought the urge to wince. Failure was no longer an option. Clary and Izzy would hunt him down if he failed. So would Magnus for that matter. He’d been wanting to meet the young designer since he saw Jagged Stone’s latest red carpet look. And then Alec wouldn’t be happy about his sulky husband… even if he turned Jace into a toad.
           Jace nodded and put an arm around the pink hair boy, “Let’s make it count.” The smaller boy blushed. Jace gave him a wolfish grin. “This is going to be fun.”
           The rest of week had Adrien dodging a whining Lila and her attempts at getting her hooks into him in time for the Gala. She had been Akumatized three times over it. A fourth when Adrien had enough and got her mother to come to school and where truths were revealed.
           Alya still refused to budge on the matter. Lila was Ladybug’s best friend after all. She couldn’t be lying, or so she said. Which caused most the class to groan. Marinette didn’t understand. After Ladybug had disavowed the Ladyblog for too many lies, asked Alya to take down Lila’s stories, and even went as far as getting a new fox hero (Juleka); she thought Alya would’ve wised up now.
           Sabrina who had been converted back to light side after Lila’s mom had confirmed they had only ever lived in Italy other than France, said that Alya was probably just stubborn. She would have to admit that she struggled that she turned her back on her best friend, ruined her relationship with her boyfriend, and been a bad friend to most of the class for nothing. It was a hard pill to swallow.
           Outside of school, his dad and Nathalie’s attempts to get him back under their thumb had gotten desperate. The first time they took his phone and his laptop. He had already gotten a prepaid one hidden in his room, once he got back to his room, he texted Marinette and Nino. Second later, a video of Gabriel ranting at his son for failing to be perfect during a photoshoot and threatening to remove him from school had surfaced. It took the media by storm.
           Less than an hour later, someone knocked on his door.
“Come in,” He called from his bed.
           Nathalie stared at him for a moment. “You posted the video.” She sounded like she still couldn’t believe it. “We didn’t think you would.”
“Now you know better.” Adrien stated. “My things.”
“This will hurt the brand,” Nathalie said as she place his phone and laptop on the bed. “Hurt the business. Stock prices will from the bad press.”
           Adrien put down the book he’d been reading and leaned forward, “Then maybe you and dad will finally learn this is a game you won’t win,” He said. “I’ll see Gabriel Agreste’s entire legacy burned to ashes before I give in.”
“…Your mother would’ve done the same,” Nathalie whispered and was gone from the room before Adrien could say anything else; door closed behind her.
           The day of the Gala, Saturday, Adrien had go to Marinette’s first thing in the morning. He left suit his father had laid out for him the day before in the fireplace. It wasn’t lit but he knew his dad would get the message.
           Marinette had designed him and Nino suits for the dance. Adrien had made sure to add his two best friends to the Gala’s invite list months ago. The host of the Gala’s daughter was a big fan of the blond; it took an autograph or two to get two more invites. Normally, Adrien would wear a classic black suit of his father’s design.
           Adrien wanted something different, something to make everyone talk, something to go with his pink hair. When he told Marinette this, she got a spark in her eyes, and he knew he’d get exactly what he wanted. And he did.
           The pink-haired boy arrived to the Gala on the back of a motorcycle to the stunned faces of the Paparazzi. The valet who took the keys from Jace had looked excited at parking the bike though.
Adrien wore a slim fitted glittery sliver suit, that under the right light reflected a rainbow look, with a black tie and shoes. Jace wore ripped jeans, tight sleeveless undershirt, and his leather jacket. His tattoos on his neck was plain to see and he had on a eyebrow ring he didn’t before. Jace wrapped his arm around Adrien and escorted him inside. Just as the paparazzi suddenly got their senses back.
The pair found Marinette and Nino by the refreshments. They walked right by an angry Lila who looked ready to kill. She’d come with Alya, and how his father managed to swing that on such short notice, Adrien didn’t know. Nino wore a black and green suit. Marinette wore a sparkly midnight blue pixie dress. Marinette’s boyfriend Connor had arrived not after. Connor brought his friend Cassandra who seemed interested in Nino.
           Adrien and Jace danced after speaking with the four a bit. As the two glided across the dance floor, Adrien found it hard to keep an eye out for his father when Jace kept looking at him so…
           Well in a way that left him frazzled.
           However Adrien’s first clue that his father had arrived was the sound of someone choking.
           And then Nino shouted, “Yes, I did it!” Was his second clue.
“Gabriel’s fainted,” Nathalie yelled. “Call for an ambulance.”
“That’s one,” Jace whispered in his ear. “Care to make it Two for Two.”
           Adrien looked thoughtful for a moment before nodding earnestly. A second later, Jace’s lips caught his own. Then they were making out on the dance floor.
“Nathalie’s down,” He heard Marinette cackle. “Poor thing. Must be the stress.”
           The kiss broke. Jace smirked down at Adrien, “Not bad Agreste; might make this a permanent thing.”
            Adrien hid his blushing face in his date’s chest; content to ignore the chaos erupting around them.
           Freedom never felt so good.
4K notes · View notes
waiting4inspiration · 4 years
Text
In the Dark XII: An Attack
Summary: With vampires terrorizing humans, you’re glad to participate in planning an attack to stop them. Your secret meeting with Bucky doesn’t go according to plan when a rogue vampire and a werewolf shows up.
Warnings: small angst, fluff, mentions of war, fighting, soul mates, vampire/ werewolf au, strong language
Word Count: 2,056
In the Dark Masterlist II Marvel Masterlist 
Tumblr media
It’s been a few weeks since Bucky gave you the locket and it hasn’t left your neck since. You snuck out every night to see Bucky, sharing the few things you both have learned or what had happened that day. 
You share all the things about how you’re learning to be the new alpha of the pack because it’s Tony’s deal to you. So that you don’t have to marry Steve. And that only makes Bucky encourage you to go on. If it means that you don’t have to marry Steve. 
Nat was the only one who noticed the locket, and she’s the only one in the pack that you will open it for. 
You almost expect to see Stephen Strange again when you walk into the conference room after a meeting was called by the alphas of the two packs; Steve and Tony. But he wasn’t there. The meeting wasn’t about attacking the coven you’ve always been fighting against which happens to be Bucky’s coven. This time, it’s about a nest of rogue vampires - probably newly turned - terrorizing the human population. 
It’s alright for werewolves and vampires to go into the human section of cities. But the moment they bring harm to a human, that clan has to be taken care of. And the human government seeks the help of the opposing species to get rid of the problem. 
You take interest in this situation, determined to help find where the nest is located to help come up with a strategy to stop them from hurting other people. But, you’re not sure what you’ll do when the time to attack comes. You’re not sure if you could ever kill another vampire. 
You don’t even remember the last time you had the urge to kill a vampire after you bonded with Bucky. Maybe you should research if having a vampire as a mate changes a few on your instincts. 
“We could scout out the vampire neighborhood closest to where the attacks are happening,” you suggest, thinking out loud as you stare at a map of the city and notice that one part of the vampire territory comes close to the site of most of the attacks. 
In the silence, you turn your head to look at Tony and Steve. Tony smiles at you, glad that you’re taking part in this situation instead of sitting back and letting others plan. Steve, on the other hand, seems a bit cautious about your suggestion and drops his gaze to the table in front of him. “It’s dangerous going into vampire territory when it’s New Moon. Vampires do well in the dark-”
“Then we’ll send a small group of the most experienced members. Three or four werewolves,” you cut him off. Glancing at Nat at your side to check whether or not your idea is a good one or not, you become more confident in your thought when you see a smile on her face. “We just have to find out where they’re staying and then we can make a plan to attack when we’re stronger.” 
Who is this person talking? When did you learn to talk like this? Maybe it’s from the years of hearing Tony plan out attacks. Maybe you really are learning how to be an alpha. 
“We can start in the human sector where the attacks happen,” Tony speaks, coming to your rescue and taking on your suggestion to further it into an attack plan. 
Leaning back in your seat and quietly sighing to yourself in relief, you glance down to the locket around your neck and smile at the memory of Bucky putting it on your before you two parted ways again. 
That only makes you wish that you could wake up at his side again instead of having to leave him each night. 
Tumblr media
Wanda places a newspaper in front of Bucky and points to the headline. “These idiots are making us look like monsters,” she snaps, making him turn his head up to her to give her an annoyed look because she’s interrupted his breakfast. 
Even though he can live without eating food, it’s something vampires do to still keep in touch with their human side. 
“It’s going to draw werewolves and they’re not only going to attack this bunch of newlings. They’re gonna attack us and every other vampire coven out there,” she rambles, sitting down in the chair opposite him to give him a stern glare. “We need to sort this out before the werewolves do.”
Bucky smirks at the authority in her voice, wondering how things might have been if she was the leader of this coven instead of him. “And what do you suggest we do, Wanda?” he questions, reaching out to take the newspaper so he can read the article. 
She smiles, happy that she’s won him over without so much as a fight. “Well, I was going to suggest that we take them in and show them the right way. But we don’t have enough space for new recruits,” she mentions, leaning back in her seat and folding her arms over her chest as Bucky gives a hum. “I was thinking that maybe a talking to from the infamous Winter Soldier would scare them into complying with the law.”
Shifting in his spot, he hums to himself and places the newspaper down beside him. It’s been a while since he’s let go and just been a vampire, all because he doesn’t want you to see the side of him that’s made many people call him a monster. He doesn’t want you to see the vampire side. But, that voice in the back of his mind - that sounds a bit like Wanda - tells him that he can’t hold that back forever. You’re his soulmate. One day, you’re going to see him like that. 
“I’ll go after them tomorrow morning,” he mutters, earning a pleased smile from Wanda as she stands, takes the newspaper and leaves him to carry on with his breakfast. “Wanda,” he calls, stopping her from walking farther and calling her back. “What do you think the chances are of buying a place somewhere in the human sector? As a vampire?” 
He turns his head to look at her. And just as expected, he sees a confused look on his face. “A place for me and (Y/n).” That makes a smile grow on her face and she walks towards him as she flips through the newspaper to look for ads.
Tumblr media
You sit on the park bench, in the dark of a new moon, waiting for your mate to come to you. You know he’ll come. He always will. 
Staring down at the locket in your hands, you trace the engraving with a small smile on your face. But that smile quickly fades when you catch the scent of a vampire. And it’s not Bucky’s smell. 
It makes you stand to your feet, your eyes flashing a golden color as you search your surroundings. You know very well that this park is in vampire territory, but the only vampire that’s really been here for over a month is Bucky. He’s told you that he makes sure that there isn’t a vampire when he comes here to you. 
Hearing a rustle behind you, your turn around, bear your canines and growl at whoever is behind you. 
But someone places a hand over your mouth and you relax to see that it’s Bucky. But the red color of his eyes and the way he places a finger to his lips to tell you to stay quiet tells you that there is a vampire out there that isn’t part of Bucky’s coven.
He silently tells you to follow him and you do with his hand tightly wrapped around yours. 
Pulling you away from the park bench, walking in silence and glancing around frequently, Bucky gives your hand a comforting squeeze before he turns around to face you. “Are you alright? You okay?” he frantically asks, stroking your cheeks with his thumbs as you gently nod your head. 
But before you can speak, a branch breaks behind you and your head snaps over your shoulder when you feel the presence of another werewolf. And Bucky senses it too. 
Vampires and Werewolves in the park. It can only mean a fight’s going to break out and you and Bucky are going to get caught in it. “It’s the rogue vampires, isn’t it?” you whisper, looking back at Bucky as he glances off into the distance. 
He nods, weaves his fingers through yours and steps forwards. Looking down at you, he turns your gaze up to him. “It’s not safe here. Come back to the coven with me.” He keeps his voice low as he touches his forehead to yours. 
His offer sounds tempting and it’s what you’ve wanted to do for weeks. All you’ve wanted to do is be with Bucky. And if that means being in a building full of vampires instead of werewolves, then so be it. 
Smiling at his words, you nuzzle his face and chuckle. “As much as I want to go back with you, I should probably get back to the compound in case something happens,” you whisper and Bucky nods in understanding. 
Now’s the time to ask you what he’s been wanting for weeks. It’s not the perfect time, but it’s now or never.
“I want to ask you something.” You hum, urging him on as you tuck your lip in between your teeth. “I think we both need a neutral ground to have for ourselves. Somewhere that’s not vampire territory or werewolf territory,” he starts. You like where this is going. “What if-”
Before he can finish, you hear something behind the trees not far from you and you push Bucky behind you at the sound of a shot. A canister lands at your feet, something used to harm vampires with a type of smoke and to give werewolves an advantage. Your instincts kick in and you kick the canister before it starts to smoke away before turning to Bucky. You know, from the canister, who the werewolf is. 
“Run!” you demand, pushing him forward and following him as you run away from the scene. But you know you won’t get far when you hear someone zooming overhead. It’s Sam, Steve’s friend and second in command. This only means that the mission to scout out the rogue vampires was a success and that’s led Sam and his team here. 
You and Bucky run through the park, your attention more on Sam and Bucky’s more on a vampire that’s now joined the party. Bucky has to slow down a bit to run beside you and he constantly glances back to make sure you’re alright. 
But you stop when you hear another vampire approaching from the other direction as well as more werewolves from your pack. 
That’s when you know what you have to do. 
Turning to Bucky, you place your hands on his chest and desperately grab his shirt. “Go. You have to go,” you beg, trying not to show the fear in your voice or how terrified you are that someone from your pack will catch him.
He shakes his head and grabs your face. “No. I’m not leaving you here with a rogue vampire-”
“It’s my pack I’m more worried about if you find you here, Bucky,” you whisper, reaching up to touch his face. “I will be fine. My pack’s here. They won’t let anything bad happen to me. But you need to go,” you plea. 
His eyes squeeze shut and he has to stop himself from baring his fangs and losing it with the threat around you. He’s trying to push down his instincts to kill because he doesn’t want you to see him lose control. With another silent plea from you, he crashes his lips over yours for a deep, passionate kiss before he slips away with the wind. Like a true vampire. 
But he doesn’t get far. Because a vampire was waiting in the dark for him to go before attacking you. And hearing you give a scream, he stops in his tracks and turns around to stare in the direction he had come from, too scared to go back and see if you’re alright. To see if you’re still alive.
Like my work? Support me HERE!!
Permanent Tags- @cassindeansass​ @simsadventures​ @fandomfic-galore​ @belovedcherry​ @a-mess-of-fandoms​ @what-just-happened-bro​ @sucker-for-malfoy​ @geekandbooknerd​ @lonewolf471​ @rainbowkisses31​ @moonie-flower101​ @p8tn0lish​ @rinkashirikitateku​ @readsalot73​ @louisolos​ @petlaufeyson​ @bangtan-serendipity​ @aworldwideapart​ @mythicalbullshit​ @ateliefloresdaprimavera​ @xbuckxnastyx​ @madithemagicalfangirl​ @ivarthebloodyking​ @shannygoatgruff​ @a--1--1--3​ @nerdypinupcrystal​ @mblaqgi​ @tephi101​ @coconutqueen21​ @wonderlandfandomkingdom​ @babypink224221​ 
Marvel Tags- @animegirlgeeky​ @nerdypisces160​ @rororo06​ @dreamlesswonder86​ @rohaintahquil​ @xxloki81xx​ @smolbeanthings​ @jennmurawski13​ @iloveyou3000morgan​ @readermia​ @heartislubbingdubbing​ @dark-night-sky-99​ @inlovewithjamesbarnes​ @caswinchester2000​ @chaoticfiretaconerd​ @momc95​ @libbymouse​
122 notes · View notes
scapegrace74-blog · 3 years
Text
No Light, No Light (Claire’s Anthem)
A/N  To recap where we’re at in the Metric Universe, Jamie and Claire are living separately while their building gets repaired after a fire.  Jamie has confessed to loving Claire, and she hesitantly agreed to give a romantic relationship between them a chance.  The dates have gone well.  Really well.  Maybe a bit too well...  Rated M, because they deserve it after all I’ve put them through.
All other parts of the Metric Universe are available on my AO3 page.
The amazing song by Florence + The Machine (another guest artist!) that inspired the title and features in a few lines can be heard here: https://youtu.be/HGH-4jQZRcc
August 24, 2018, Scottish Highlands, Scotland
Outside the train, the landscape slid by in an emerald smear.  It had been raining earlier, but as the sun dipped westward it broke from beneath the clouds, setting the greens afire.  The view was violently beautiful, but Claire stared instead at her face, pensive and wan, reflected in the smudgy window.  There was an almost laughable lack of connection between herself and the taciturn man to her left.
It hadn’t started out that way.  After a near-idyllic summer dedicated to their mutual enjoyment of each other’s company, this trip to Scotland was meant a culmination of sorts.  A validation that they were moving towards something momentous.  A delineation between their past as friends and their future as... something more.   
Jamie had first mentioned the idea in passing while they waited in line for a gelato in the shadow of the Gherkin on a hot July day.
“T’would be braw tae introduce ye to Lallybroch before ye return tae yer studies, Sassenach,” had been his exact words.  Claire had learned to appreciate Jamie’s deft navigation of the shoals of her caution.  An invitation to meet his family would have garnered an immediate negative response, but an invitation to his family home received an ambiguous hum.
Several weeks later, they were searching Netflix for a movie they could agree on while cat-sitting for Joe and Gayle.  Said cat was lounging on the sofa cushions between them when Jamie casually raised the ante.
“Tomorrow I’ll be buyin’ my ticket home for the August bank holiday.  The trains north will be packed, so I was thinkin’ I’d grab a second seat.  Just in case, ye ken.  T'is refundable, sae there’s no harm.”
By the end of the evening, the cat had fled the room, Claire’s shirt was down to its last button, Jamie’s summer tan couldn’t mask the flush of blood that raced beneath his skin, and the idea of spending a weekend away together sat like an unopened present on the closet shelf of their minds.
Last Monday, between her day shift and his graveyard, they had met for coffee to discuss the details of moving back into their flat.
“Jamie, my name is on this lease.”  Claire set down her cup rather abruptly on the table, spilling a few hot drops over her fingers.
“Aye, tis.  I asked the landlord tae include us both.  Considering all the delays an’ the nuisance, tis the least they could do.”  Pausing to hand her a napkin, he balanced his fingertips over her scalded knuckles.  It’s yer flat too, Sassenach.  No matter what.”
The gravity of the moment hung heavy in the air.  Neither spoke for a while, letting the hum of ambient conversation dull the edges of their nerves.  Claire slid an unsigned copy of the lease into her satchel.
“I, uh, I ken this mayna be the best time tae be bringing this up, but I’ll be away home come Thursday, back on Monday.  There’s still a ticket in yer name, should ye wish tae come wi’ me.”
She looked at him then, so earnest and open and hopeful, the sunlight from the street burnishing his hair coppery-gold.  He’d crept in like a thief, disturbing the tidy boxes of her life and leaving traces of his passage on her heart.  A thief who gave instead of took, and whose only crime was to love without recompense.
“What would it mean, if I went to Scotland with you?” she asked quietly.
“It would mean everything to me,” he admitted.
That hadn’t been what she was asking, but it was her answer all the same.
The day before they were due to depart, Claire had been eating a late afternoon snack in the hospital cafeteria when a familiar tall form in running gear caught her eye.  She couldn’t suppress the frisson of delight she felt as he made his way towards her table, a whiplash of appreciative female gazes following in his wake.
His infectious smile of greeting faltered and then disappeared as he caught sight of what she was reading.
Oh.
The monthly rental property magazine had been left behind on her table, but she’d be lying to say she was browsing it purely out of idle curiosity.  The weight of seeing her name next to Jamie’s on their new lease had been pressing down on her since Monday.  
On the one hand, it was a tremendous relief - no longer could the outcome of their courtship render her homeless - not that she could imagine Jamie ever being as cruel as Frank.  But it also implied a commitment, a state of permanence between them, that quite frankly scared the shit out of her.  And so she had been perusing her options, not with any serious intent, but because it gave her comfort to know they existed.   Jamie had dropped by unannounced at the worst possible time.
A crowded cafeteria wasn’t the place to start making excuses, so after a stilted exchange about meeting the next day at Euston Station, Jamie departed, a small storm cloud of ire floating above his head.  
By the time they met the following morning, that cloud had darkened to a gale, blowing all hope of casual conversation before it.  Jamie’s disposition was generally sanguine, but when he put his mind to it he could glower like the Viking gods he resembled.  It made for a silent journey.
“Ye can just go ahead and say it, Claire.”  When it came, his voice was diminished by resignation.
“I’m curious what it is you want me to say,” she replied.
“That ye willna be moving back inta the flat next month.  If that means we willna be seeing each other at all, well, I’d rather ye tell me before I go introducing ye tae my family as my girlfriend like a fool.”
When she turned to face this accusation, the first thing she noticed was the absence of light behind his typically radiant blue eyes.  It neutralized the acid on her tongue.
“Those are awfully dire conclusions to be drawing from some rental adverts, my lad,” she quipped.  Then, almost begging.  “You promised to be patient with me.”
“Aye, I did.  But ye also promised tae try, Claire.  I canna help but feel that ye’re just marking time, waiting for me to fuck up badly enough that ye can say, well, that’s that then, another disappointment, and retreat tae yer solitude.”
It wasn’t far from the truth, although she’d never have stated it so baldly.  As with every emotional conversation she had with Jamie, his words left her feeling naked and exposed.  He saw her so well.  She didn’t doubt the sincerity of his love for her, because what else kept a man coming back once all the ugliness was on display?
“I hear what you’re saying, Jamie.  I think you know this isn’t easy for me.  Just being here with you on this train, Christ.  I almost called you twice this morning to say I wouldn’t be coming.”
“But ye didna.  Why?”
“Because the only thing that scares me more than being with you,” her voice rose in pitch, “is being without you.  I’m here, but it’s taking bloody everything I have.  So please do not ask me for more,” she pleaded.
A strong arm wrapped around her shoulder and she came to nestle against him willingly.
“I would never ask ye for that, a ghraidh.  I only want ye tae learn tae let go of yer fear, as it serves for nought.  I learned that the hard way with my accident.  T’wasn’t anything I earned nor deserved, but it happened nonetheless.  We canna chose if we win or lose.  We can only chose how we fight.”
She listened to his heart, steadily thumping beneath the muscles of his chest.  To think, he could have been taken away before she came to know the dimensions of its strength.  It sent a chill down her spine.
“I ne’er told ye, that first night we met a’ the pub, how ye reminded me of a fierce lioness.  All golden eyed and imperious.  An’ when I saw those same eyes, peering at me o’er a surgical mask the night of the blast, I understood I would live, because ye did.  Ye’re a fighter, Sassenach.  I kent it from the start.”
“God, Jamie, I was an utter shambles at the time,” she confessed.  His faith in her was overwhelming.
“Aye.  But ye were goin’ down swinging.”
***
Ian Murray, Jamie’s best friend and brother-in-law, met them at the train station in Inverness.  As they navigated the country roads, his conversation with Jamie had the ease and teasing short-hand of timeworn friendship. Claire was content to sit quietly and listen, the inconclusive discussion on the train looming large in her peripheral vision.
It was well past dark as they arrived at Lallybroch, giving the structure an air of timelessness as yellow light bathed the courtyard from windows high above.  The battered wooden entrance swung open to the welcoming chaos of barking dogs, children’s laughter and lilting Gaelic voices spilling into the night.  
Claire hung back, pretending to help Ian with their bags as Jamie jogged forward to embrace a dark-haired woman who barely reached his shoulders, lifting a giggling toddler from her hip and high into the air.  The dogs spun around his legs, practically tripping him as he tried to climb the stairs and answer his sister’s rapid fire questions all at once.  Halting before the door, he handed his nephew over before Jenny disappeared inside, the dogs at her heels.
Feeling absurdly nervous, Claire mounted the stairs and accepted his outstretched hand.
“So, this is it?” she asked inanely.
“Aye, this is it.  Welcome to my home, Sassenach.”
***
They’d eaten on the train, so after a hasty introduction to the rest of the family and a promise to become better acquainted over breakfast, Jamie and Claire headed upstairs.  It occurred to her on the second landing that she had no idea where he expected her to sleep.   Their status as temporary lodgers in other people’s homes back in London had made the question moot.  
Visceral memories of their increasingly heated goodnight kisses caused Claire to trip on braided rug.  Jamie turned as she was righting herself.
“Aye, well, here we are.  The lavatory is jest across the hall.  If ye need anything, the laird’s room is up these stairs.”
“The laird’s room?  Wait, who’s the laird in this story?” she was momentarily distracted from her agitation by this unforeseen detail. 
“Well, me.  But dinna get any grand illusions.  Tis only a leftover title from when Clan Fraser ruled o’er these parts before the Rising.”
Her mouth was moving before she fully considered her next words.
“And does that make me your lady?”
Instead of laughing off her glib comment as she hoped he would, Jamie’s face grew somber.
“Nah.  Tha’ position is presently unfilled.  In this house, the laird sleeps next tae his lady, always.  G’night tae ye, Sassenach.”  And with a soft kiss that barely ghosted her lips, Jamie retired to bed.  Alone.
***
The next two days were a glimpse into a way of living whose existence Claire had previously discredited.  Communal mealtimes, where each family member had an assigned role, from buttering the bread (Jamie’s three-year old nephew and namesake) to clearing the table (Ian, and by their second meal, Claire).  Morning and evening chores that left the adults drowsy and smelling slightly of the chicken coop.  Siblings bickering, slamming doors and then laughing about it by suppertime.  Outings to local landmarks in the rain, a cheerful row of matching Wellingtons and wax cotton jackets tramping along well-worn paths.  Visits to neighbours, carrying a Pyrex dish of some culinary offering and returning four hours later, stuffed to the gills and carrying a different Pyrex dish loaded with leftovers.
Seeing Jamie take his place at the centre of this family dynamic was a shock.  She’d only ever known him in an urban setting, where he was one man among millions; noteworthy for his decency, his peculiar fondness for blood pudding, and because he was hers.  At Lallybroch, he grew before her eyes, taking on new dimensions that challenged and teased her understanding of him.
This was his concept of home.
This was his template for love.
***
On Sunday afternoon, the clouds had lifted to reveal a robin’s egg sky.  Claire accompanied Ian on a circuit of the upper pasture.  A border collie named Jem bounded down the hill ahead of them.  Ian was an easy companion, and they were mid-conversation about the impact of the Scots in the history of medicine when Claire pulled up short, words evaporating in her throat.
There in the hay field just below stood Jamie.  Long rows of golden sheaves that had been cut the past week were now drying in the late summer sun.  Armed with nothing but a pitchfork, Jamie had obviously been working for some time.  He wore boots and loose trousers, but his shirt was long abandoned.  Sweat glistened in the fine russet curls that covered his breastbone and over the sun-kissed curves of his shoulders.  He was so beautiful, it hurt to breathe.
“He’s himself again,” Ian remarked.  “It lightens my heart tae see it.”
Claire tore her eyes away from Jamie.  Ian was watching her with a knowing twinkle in his eye.
“Well, he obviously loves being here, with his family...” she dodged.
Ian shook his head.
“Nah, t’isn’t that.  Since his accident, he’s been... altered.  Jamie was always the golden one, ye ken?  Smart, strong, funny, kind.  He wore it well, but it gives ye a sense of... invincibility, maybe?  Tha’ blast ripped apart more than his back.  I think it made him doubt who he is on the inside.  Ye’ve helped him find tha’ man again, Claire, and for that we are in yer debt.”
She couldn’t look at Ian then, for fear that he would see just how much she wanted what he was saying to be the truth.  To be essential to someone who meant so much to her, to be enough purely by being herself, it was more than her feelings could contain.
It was what Jamie had been trying to tell her all along.
***
The third stair between the guest room and the laird’s bedroom creaked, and Claire froze, eyes darting guiltily down the corridor to where Ian, Jenny and their children slept.   Nothing stirred beyond the drumming of her heartbeat, so she crept the rest of the way, tapping quietly on the solid wood door.
Jamie’s voice was alert as he beckoned, “Come in, Jenny.”  She clutched a thin sheaf of papers to her chest and entered the room.  The only illumination came from the hearth, where a low fire still blazed.  It cast its light on a large, masculine room, with deep blue wallpaper, heavy damask drapes and an immense four poster bed.  Jamie sat up against the headboard, the glow from his iPad echoing in his downcast eyes.
“It’s not Jenny.  It’s me,” she whispered.
With a visible flinch, the iPad fell to his lap.
“Claire...”
He stretched her name out like honey from a jar, trickling sweetly from his mouth.
She wanted to run.  From this plush room, this welcoming home, this uninvited sanctuary of tenderness.  Her legs quivered with the impulse.  Instead, she plunged forward into the room, right to the edge of the bed, and thrust her offering towards Jamie, who followed her movements as though she was defusing a bomb.
“Whas’ this then?” he asked, peering down at the document.
“It’s our lease.  I signed it.  And faxed a copy to the landlord.”
There, she had done it.  The pebble that would start the landslide.  There was no turning back now, and it was pure relief.
Jamie was silent for so long, staring down at her signature, that she began to wonder if he’d fallen asleep.  When he looked up again, his eyes were glassy.
“Are ye sure, Sassenach?”
A drunken encounter in a pub.  Agony radiating from his bright blue eyes on a hospital gurney.  Her rain-soaked salvation.  A roommate.  A friend.  His steady patience as they tentatively grew closer. And now something more, something bigger than she knew how to articulate, sneaking around the margins of her fear.  
She wasn’t sure of much, but she was certain that Jamie’s love could never hurt.  The rest, the panic that she could lose him or disappoint him, that was just the price of paradise.
Instead of answering the question directly, she walked around to the opposite side of the bed and gestured to the empty mattress beside Jamie’s long body.
“Is this place still vacant?”
His smile was radiant.
“For ye, Sassenach, always.”
***
It was like no other sex she’d ever experienced.  Intimacy, up until then, had been a transaction, an exchange of debits.  This was a cancellation of accounts, an obliteration of any mutual debt.  They loved each other with the pure, mindless joy of a wave meeting the shore.
Which isn’t to say that it was perfect.  It felt strange to touch Jamie in more than a friendly way.   Not at all unpleasant, but strange.  Like going to the theatre to see a well-loved play, and suddenly being thrust onto the stage.  The hesitance behind Jamie’s touch told her he felt something similar.  
In a particularly awkward moment, they were jostling and bumping to remove each other’s pajamas when her hair got caught in the buckle of his watch.
“Ouch!” she yelped.  He pulled away, stammering apologies, which only made things worse.  After a few failed attempts on Jamie’s part, she reached up and unclasped the watch band, giving him two hands to work with.  By this point they were both giggling, the gravitas of the moment lost.
“Ye’ve a great deal of hair, mo nighean donn,” Jamie groused as he lay the offending watch on his nightstand.
“Complaining already, Fraser?”
“God, no. Ye’re... would it be sentimental tae say ye’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen?”
She was lying naked, but for a pair of skimpy knickers, the firelight caressing her limbs where they were splayed against the dark sheets.  Jamie’s visual perusal of her body held a potent combination of lust and reverence that warmed her blood.
“I suppose I can tolerate a bit of sentimentality,” she conceded, rolling towards the bulwark of his naked chest.  Her fingers played down the corduroy ripples of his flank.
“You’re beautiful too, Jamie.”
The mood in the room shifted again.  Soon they pitching across the mattress, trying to touch in as many ways possible.  Their skin grew slippery with sweat.  At some point, underwear must have been removed, because she could feel the coarse abrasion of his pubic hair against her thigh, alongside the tensile ridge of his erection.
“Claire,” he gasped as their hips ground together in frenzied pulses. “If ye dinna want me tae go any further, I need ye tae tell me now.”
She reached between them, taking the heft of him in her palm, feeling a spasm of need shudder through his frame.
“There’s nothing about you that I do not want, James Fraser.”
A cavernous groan, a frantic search for a condom in the bedside drawer, the tearing of a foil wrapper, and then a breathless hesitation.  She opened her eyes to see Jamie looking down as though she was the morning sun.  There was nothing left inside her but dazzling hunger, filling the spaces where her fear once resided.
Here was the start.
53 notes · View notes
samayla · 3 years
Text
Writeblr Challenge Day 25
Self-promo time! Share a snippet from your main WIP that you’re proud of.
I'm not usually a snippet sort of person, at least not when it comes to my original stories, but here goes nothing... This is from the opening chapter of Magpie Grace. Incidentally, it is the same scene for which I shared the outline a little while back. I think it rather perfectly conveys the flavor of the whole story. Enjoy!
Tumblr media
“It’s not fair!” Forrest roared, slamming his meaty fist on the table hard enough to rattle the teacups in their saucers. Magnolia tensed but forced her face to remain neutral. The fairy, a golden-skinned ambassador from the Starspire, just cocked her head and drummed her fingers thoughtfully on the scarred tabletop.
Too many fingers with too many joints.
Forrest shuddered slightly and subsided, settling back into his chair.
“I beg your pardon on behalf of my companion,” Magnolia offered, determined not to stare at the fingers as the fairy steepled them beneath her chin. She was clearly amused by Forrest’s discomfort, but Magnolia was determined to remain calm, to find some way of salvaging this situation. It was her job. She topped off the fairy’s cup with more cream, warmed through and cut with bitter tea in the custom of the Starspire. Spirefolk were known more for their creativity than their mercy, and Magnolia desperately didn’t want the fairy to get creative to deal with Forrest’s outburst. “Forrest is overwrought,” she said soothingly. “The suddenness of recent events has taken its toll, as I’m sure you can imagine.”
The fairy just cocked her head the other way, jewel-bright eyes still fixed on the angry, uncomfortable miller. Magnolia sipped at her cream to allow the fairy time to process the situation, and she prayed she’d come down on the side of mercy for his outburst.
Finally, the fairy took a sip of her own cream. “Strange notions of ‘fair,’” she said. A forked tongue darted out to catch a drop that lingered at the corner of her mouth before she continued. “The same punishment for all is fair, I think. Your companion’s husband stole grain from my lady’s field. A year and a day in that field is the punishment. How fair to release his beloved, and yet hold the others to the fullness of their sentence, hmm?”
“Then release the others,” Forrest cried, throwing himself forward once more, and Magnolia considered killing him herself. He was going to get them both into serious trouble if he couldn’t keep his mouth shut. He ignored her warning nudge beneath the table. “Free all your bloody scarecrows and let them return home! They have loved ones too!”
The fairy blinked. “They stole from my lady’s fields, knowing full well the punishment that has stood for a thousand years.” She turned to Magnolia, amber eyes narrowed in perplexity. “It is known, is it not?”
“It is taught to our children,” Magnolia confirmed. Forrest shot her a look of utter betrayal, but she ignored it. It would cost more than either of their lives were worth to lie to a fairy outright, especially one who had condescended to negotiate a standing agreement like this. Everyone in Haven knew not to steal from Shiara’s fields, but that didn’t stop the handful of thrill-seekers who’d take a drunken dare to hop the creek, pick an ear of corn or a head of wheat, and inevitably get caught. The Starspire side of the creek was near constantly studded with the scarecrows these trespassers became. Magnolia shuddered to think of what lying about it would earn her.
The fairy hummed and peered around the cluttered room, then out the window, which looked out on an alleyway bustling with Midsummer revelers along the narrow canal. “The people of Haven do not go hungry,” she murmured. “They do not suffer from lack of food, shelter, warmth… The treaty ensures continued commerce and goodwill between our peoples. Anything your hearts desire can be had from us, if you are willing and canny enough to offer a fitting price.” She sipped at her cream again, taking a moment to gather her thoughts. “I can see no reason for theft, except to offer insult.” The fairy sat up straighter then, and the look in her eyes hardened into pride, sharp and dangerous. “It is not ‘fair,’ I think, to ask my people, who already provide so much, to bear such insult upon a mortal’s whim. Not fair by any definition.”
The color drained from Forrest’s face. “Magnolia…” he breathed, but there was nothing she could say to challenge the fairy’s declaration. She’d told him as much when he’d first come to her for help. The rules were the rules, and the fact that Forrest didn’t like them, didn’t change them. When Magnolia remained still and silent, Forrest slumped at last, all the bluster going out of him in a rush. He collapsed to the table, his face in his hands.
The fairy just watched him, her gaze softening to puzzlement once more as she took in every detail of his body language and his muffled sobs. She did not seem inclined to either leave or cause mischief as she slowly finished off her cup, so Magnolia watched warily as well. “This is more ‘overwrought,’ I think?” the fairy asked at length.
“It is,” Magnolia confirmed carefully.
“Messy,” she commented, as if she were remarking on the weather. “When does it stop?”
“It is usually best remedied by a loved one.” Magnolia was treading dangerous ground, but the ambassador seemed genuinely interested in understanding, and though Forrest’s case was a lost one, that didn’t mean Magnolia couldn’t sew some seeds for future change.
“I see.” She stared a few moments more, before understanding flared in her eyes. She set her cup down carefully, as though trying to decide whether she dared voice whatever conclusion she had just come to. “We have discussed fair,” she said slowly. Forrest raised his head but remained miserably silent. “Fair is no comfort to you, I think.”
Forrest shook his head, but his back straightened, and he scrubbed a hand over his face. The hope radiating off of him was palpable. He was only able to see a possible reopening of negotiations, but Magnolia knew better. She’d miscalculated. She wasn’t sure how it would go yet, but she knew she probably wasn’t going to like it. She put a hand on the miller’s arm in silent warning.
“You do not dispute the law,” the fairy continued,” and yet the law brings you no comfort. You are overwrought still. Being reunited with your husband would bring you comfort, I think?”
“Oh, yes,” Forrest gasped, shaking off Magnolia’s hand.
“You wish to be returned to his side?”
“Forrest, a year and -”
But Forrest was already nodding eagerly. “Yes! More than anything!”
And then Forrest was gone.
On the table before her stood a remarkably large crow. Magnolia sighed. “A year and a day then?” At least he no longer appeared to be overwrought.
“A year and a day,” the fairy murmured in assent, rising from her seat.
11 notes · View notes
blackbutterfliescal · 4 years
Text
A Storm Of Trouble
A Michael Clifford One Shot
Tumblr media
Pairing: Pirate!Michael Clifford & Reader
Word count: 3.3K
Rating: Just For Fun
Requested by: Not requested but it was supposed to be part of the Michael Week @sadistmichael hosted. I’m late as always but I’m still gonna post it 🤷‍♀️
Content: second person POV, gender neutral reader insert, best friends finding themselves in a night of chaos, drinking, swearing, violence but no graphic details, reader as a sex worker, brief appearances of Calum being A Little Shit
A/N: This all started because of that damn earring... I know that romance (in any form) does well on here, but I thought it would be fun to write a friend fic. Sue me. Big thank yous to @mashlums @haikucal @sexgodashton @jae-writes-fanfiction and @cheekysos for encouraging me on this one!
✨ Masterlist ✨
Let me know if you want to be added to or removed from my taglist 🌺
AO3 Link
Feedback is always appreciated! 😊
———
The wooden slats above Michael’s head groaned, heavy with footsteps and many years of wear on the high seas. It was clear that the ship was docking somewhere for the night to restock supplies, but Michael couldn’t be stirred from the hammock where he rested just below deck. Several minutes passed as he concentrated on the slow drip of water into the pail in the corner, looking for some sense of peace in the chaos the rest of the crew was creating. The metal made a sharp sound with each drop that hit, but it was a tone he’d grown accustomed to after many months aboard this particular ship. He often used it to lull himself to sleep, struggling to ignore Calum’s incessant snoring. It wasn’t until one of his crewmates shouted the name of a familiar port that Michael paid much attention to the commotion happening on the surface. Usually preferring to stay aboard the ship and not risk any potential scuffles on land, he now understood why so many of the crew were anxious to disembark.
Port Royal was notorious for the wide array of debauchery around every turn. Especially this time of night, it was always crawling with other scoundrels just looking for a bad fight or a good fuck. Or maybe a good fight and a bad fuck. The derelict port had such a reputation for its treatment of outsiders that none of the king’s men ever dared a visit, leaving the people who were floating through to act as their own law and order. 
The grimy, dilapidated buildings just past the worn dock called to Michael. He’d lived a pirate’s life since he was orphaned as a young boy, sailing far and wide, but this port was the closest thing he had to a home. He only hoped that he could find his oldest friend still in the hut just past the wall where the land met the sea.
———
Michael made his way beyond the wobbly old dock, peering in the dimly lit pubs only briefly as he passed. His well-worn leather boots carried his tired feet through the filthy streets to an all-but-forgotten yet somehow still familiar scene. Covered by the shadow of the night couples of every sort were pressed against each other, no doubt trading secret desires. At his unfamiliar approaching figure, the silhouetted couples all vanished into the brothel before him quicker than he could blink an eye. 
Hidden from easy view in the moonlight, the door slammed against the frame just as Michael approached. His hands, rough from years of work as a swabby, landed hard against the faded green wood thrice before it swung open. It rested uneven on its hinges and revealed a plump young woman in dark red corseted dress. The ruffles around her neckline were no longer a crisp, clean white but still managed to pull Michael’s attention directly to her ample bosom. His eyes continued to work over her figure. He didn’t miss the way her stomach pushed out against the ribbed garment covering it. She was such a sight that Michael considered a short detour before beginning to search the brothel for you.
“Well, ain’t ye a handsome devil. Fancy cracking Jenny’s teacup, eh?”
Before Michael could let a smooth response fall from his mouth, footsteps landing hard under long strides sounded down the hallway. Michael’s eyes, dark with lust, brightened as he took you in. You were exactly as he remembered and somehow completely different. It had been years since Michael was last in Port Royal but the two of you had kept up through letters as you were able. 
“Back off, wench. This one’s wit’ me.” The woman in red threw a scowl and a few choice curses at you as you squeezed past her in the doorway, arms quickly finding Michael in a tight embrace. “Oi, s’that a hornpipe in yer pocket or are ya just happy t’ see me?” You offered him a cheeky grin as his face warmed, caught red-handed, and he cast his gaze past you to find the woman in red missing from the door frame.
———
As seemed natural, you and Michael found yourselves kicked back in the corner of the closest pub. Boot-clad feet resting high on the table and a second bottle of rum nearly gone, you shared laughs and stories between swigs that were drowned out in the raucous noise of the other patrons. Two large men were attempting to settle their score through a game of fisticuffs at the bar and neither seemed to have their wits about them, stumbling on their own feet. A number of recognizable faces from the brothel were here to pick up company for the night, or maybe just the next few minutes. The most familiar face among them was Ash. A wordsmith of sorts, he had settled in close to a pretty, young blonde with eyes so blue that you could make them out across the room. Michael could pick out the back of Calum’s head as he raked in a pile of coins, no doubt employing his sharp mind in a game of liar’s dice.
Unphased by the rowdy crowd, the two of you were content in a universe that was contained entirely at that corner table. Michael told you stories of all the places he’d visited since you’d last seen him. Tales of India and China and all the bounty you could imagine. To be no older than he was, he’d done a lifetime’s worth of travelling. It didn’t come easy though. Work aboard a pirate ship, even with a fair captain, was endless and often meant risking life or limb to secure loot. He also listened intently as you recounted your tale of the one who had left you high and dry after a broken engagement. It had left your heart with an unhealing wound as deep red as the rope burns on Michael’s calloused hands. His eyes remained soft as you spoke of the person you thought was finally going to pull you out of the life you led. Routinely selling your body to the highest bidder had never much bothered you. You often found a sense of power at being the agent of someone’s deepest desires.That was until this one particular person became a frequent caller of yours. You knew no shame about the way you earned your coin but now you were crushed under their broken promises of a steady life, a life that didn’t mean hiding from the law or rousing up drunk sailors just to put food in your stomach.
Neither of you would have chosen life as a criminal for yourselves, but any trace of life before this felt like it belonged to someone else. As Michael began to yell for another bottle of rum, the back door to the pub flew open and landed harshly against the wall behind it. The man standing where the door had been was intimidating.Twice as large as Michael and covered in tattoos. He was flanked by a woman whose arms looked strong enough to crush you with ease and a bald man with a weathered scar down the right side of his face, covered only briefly by the leather patch on his eye.
“I knew I smell’d a bilge rat. Clifford! We ‘ave a debt t’ settle!!” His accent was heavy and you thought maybe it was Irish. His eyes landed on Michael, lounging in the far corner. As Michael’s eyes went wide and he leapt to his feet, he felt his head spin from the booze. The man that had barged in drew his sword and that was enough to bring Michael back for just a moment, long enough to process that he was in trouble. He quickly pulled you to your feet and tugged you behind him. “Shame! We’re jus’ leavin’!”
It took most of your self-control not to spray out the last burning chug of alcohol you’d just thrown back before being snatched up from your seat. You made a quick recovery, considering the amount of rum you’d already swallowed down, crashing out the front door and spilling into the muddy road. You weren’t sure how long the two of you had been in the pub but you’d clearly missed any indication of the current downpour. You splashed through the streets, following Michael’s already soaked form in and out of countless doorways. As he cleared what had to be the twentieth doorframe, he stepped quickly into the corner and pulled you with him. You landed against his broad chest with a thud. It would have knocked the wind out of you if you hadn’t already been breathing heavy from the zig-zagged marathon.
As you took a step back from Michael, he let his fast grip fall and looked around at where he’d landed the two of you. He saw the pigs in the opposite corner sleeping in the cool mud and the horse’s stall just next to the pig pen. He held his index finger to his pursed lips, signaling you not to disturb the livestock. Just as you were finally able to catch your breath, you felt it hitch in your throat again as the large brutish man called out to Michael. “Alright ye filthy animal. I know yer hidin’ ‘round ‘ere somewhere.” You shared an amused glance at the choice of words. Michael began to slowly draw the large blade looped through the belt hanging against his hip, preparing to go down fighting. You felt a brief sense of panic at the realization that you’d left your own sword behind. Spying a smaller handle on Michael’s other hip, you reached your hand out to grip the tarnished handle and pulled it up in front of you. The knife flashed in the low light, smaller than the blade you were accustomed to, but desperate times....
Taking careful steps, or as careful as possible after two bottles of rum, Michael inched his way out of the barn door and into the rain. You were a few steps behind him and hadn’t cleared the door yet when the scar-faced man appeared behind Michael with a taunt. Just as he raised his blade to engage Michael, you brought the heavy handle of your weapon down on top of his head. The man immediately fell face-first into the water at Michael’s feet. Michael’s hair clung to his face in the rain as he spun to give you a wide-eyed but silent thank you, hoping the others that were still after him weren’t close enough to hear.
No sooner did the thought cross his mind than two menacing shadows appeared at the other end of the barn. You stashed Michael’s knife in your belt, bending down to snatch the sword from the man lying on the ground, and took off again hot on Michael’s heels. You followed him around the back of another house and down a pitch black alley.
As you emerged on the other side, a loud grunt sounded beside you, followed by the clang of Michael’s sword meeting the Irishman’s. It was shortly followed by his partner’s blade meeting your stolen one. Though you’d had your fair share of practice with a sword, you felt like a novice next to Michael’s skillful hand. Metal clashed as the storm raining down on the island intensified, lightning strikes flashing through the sky with every scrape of swords. The woman you were up against was clearly a better swordsman than you and you weren’t sure how long you’d be able to keep up. You weren’t sure how it had happened, but she had you backed against a wall. Your sword was the only thing keeping her blade from bearing down on your throat. As quickly as you could manage, you brought one hand to your belt, pulling the knife out again before landing it in the woman’s side. Her mouth fell open and she stumbled back from you as you removed the blade. Her sword clattered to the ground and it wasn’t long before she fell beside it. The wound wasn’t enough to kill her but it would keep her out of your way so you could help Michael.
You hadn’t been able to spare him a glance as you fought for your own life but you weren’t shocked to see that he was holding his own against the giant. You ran up behind the man with a yell and he spun around to meet your blow. After sending you stumbling back a few steps, he turned to face Michael again. He wore the shock on his face as Michael’s blade came to rest in the hollow of his throat. The man slowly lowered his weapon, realizing Michael had bested him. You heard a shuffle behind you as the woman reached for her sword. Your boot landed heavy on top of the metal as you trained your sword on her, daring her to make a move. Behind you, Michael’s words were lost in the sudden boom of thunder. Only when you heard him call your name did you take your eyes off the woman on the ground in front of you. Michael was backing away as he lowered his weapon, seeming to have settled his debt. You slowly removed your foot from the sword on the ground, giving the most menacing look you could manage, and ran after Michael’s retreating figure. When you caught up to him, you noticed that the sleeve of his open shirt had been torn and under it there was a gash in Michael’s bicep. After much persuasion, Michael agreed to follow you back to the brothel to get it cleaned up. If it became infected, it could cost him his life.
———
Bringing Michael in would have caught attention in any state, but as he held onto his arm and dripped rainwater everywhere, you gathered more stares than you would have liked. He leaned over the kitchen table, waiting for you to gather supplies. It wasn’t pretty but you doused the wound with alcohol and Michael seemed more upset at the loss of rum than the burning it caused. Once it was cleaned to your satisfaction, you ripped the hem of your clothing to tie it around his arm.
“Thanks.” His eyes were soft as they met yours. “I would ‘ave been a dead man without yer help.”
“Yer goddamn right! But what else are friends fer?”
You shared a laugh as Michael pushed himself back upright with his other arm, following you back to the front door and out into the night. The storm seemed to have run its course and left only a light drizzle in its wake as you made your way through the streets again, walking under cover of any roof you passed. You walked with your heads ducked between coverings as you laughed and recounted your astounding victory over Michael’s assailants, wondering what happened to the scar-faced man. 
Up ahead, you spot a familiar figure walking in your direction. Without warning, you shove Michael into a dark alley and shush him with wide eyes. Luckily for you, your unfortunate recurring caller had kept their gaze on the ground in an effort to keep the still-falling droplets off their face. They hadn’t seen you disappear but you hadn’t noticed how incredibly narrow this alley was. You shivered as you felt Michael’s warm breath fall across your rain-slicked face. Your feet stood between his and there was hardly enough room between your chests to take a full breath in. Michael’s eyes stayed trained on you, looking for any sign of an all clear. You watched intently, waiting for the caller to pass by. Once they made their way by the narrow opening where you hid without suspicion, you placed your hands on Michael’s sides to steady yourself and pushed your head toward the street. As the figure made a turn, you counted to three silently and stepped out into the street again with a dramatic exhale. Michael slowly followed you with a quizzical look on his face.
“Ya can wipe that look off yer face, ya smug bastard. I ain’t talkin’ ‘til ye explain the burly man and his goons chasin’ ya earlier.” Michael’s expression dropped with a humorous scoff, unwilling to share what had landed him in such trouble. Nights like tonight were exactly why he preferred to stay aboard the ship. He just couldn’t resist the chance to catch up with you. You also knew that tonight would cost you. Literally. You’d have to up the ante the rest of the week to make up for the night out but you felt that Michael was worth it.
———
Conversation continued to flow easily, as if nothing between the two of you ever changed. You weaved through the streets, careful to avoid main thoroughfares for worry of any more excitement. Two close calls was enough for one night. It didn’t slip your notice that both of you took to yawning big, deep breaths much more frequently as the last few hours slipped by, a sign that the morning light was well on its way. You knew you’d be able to catch a few hours of sleep once Michael was back on the water, but you also hoped he’d be able sweet-talk someone into letting him curl up in his hammock for a little while. You didn’t give it too much worry though. You knew Michael never had trouble sweet-talking his way through anyone. He’d always been a charmer.
As you made your way through the last side street and onto the dock, you heard a loud rumble of footsteps and immediately braced your newly-found sword. Your other hand fell on Michael’s knife, still tucked into your belt, and quickly handed it over to him as he drew his own blade. A flash of surprise crossed his face as if he’d gone all night without realizing the knife was missing. The sounds of enraged men grew louder as they rounded the corner. Michael immediately recognized Calum at the front of the crowd, realizing quickly that Calum’s clever antics had landed him in trouble yet again. You followed Michael’s lead and dropped your weapon as he let out a full-bellied laugh. As Calum dashed past you down the dock, he yelled out a casual greeting and flashed a cheeky grin. “Michael!” One hand raised to meet his brow in a salute. “Michael’s friend!” Another salute.
You joined Michael in another fit of laughter. As he turned to watch Calum running down the dock to their safe haven, Michael saw their ship and realized the ropes were being pulled off the dock as the ramp to the ship was being dragged back over the railing. A few curses fell from his lips as he took off in a dead run after his friend, yelling something unintelligible over his shoulder that was surely meant for you. You thought it was something about not groping for trout in any peculiar rivers but had no idea what he could mean and dismissed it as Michael being Michael. Your sides began to hurt from laughter as he passed the angry mob to catch up with Calum. Both men leapt through the air at the same time as their ship pulled away from the dock. Calum’s hands grabbed hold of the railing while Michael employed his knife to keep hold of the ship. Calum pulled himself overboard with ease and turned to quickly bring Michael onboard with him. A few brave, but ill-fated, members of the mob risked a jump but landed in the water with a splash. They resurfaced with enough curses to make Blackbeard blush. Michael threw an obscene gesture at the disgruntled men before lifting his gaze to wave goodbye to you as they made off into the bright sunrise under a clear sky.
———
taglist: @easierlftv @haikucal @mashlums @youngblood199456 @calumbroutledge @atlcalm @another-lonely-heart @castaway-cashton @itsjen223 @bloodyoathcal @vapor5sos @myloverboyash​ @justhereforcalum​
66 notes · View notes
Text
Boston Boys [Part One]
Tumblr media
Summary: Dr. Aurelie Juneau treats someone in the emergency room she shouldn’t, and get a visit from her brother a few days later.  Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC, John Krasinski x OFC Word Count: 1700 Chapter Warnings: Hospital setting and treatment, mentions of guns, implied crime.  Square Filled: The entire series (bits and pieces of it) will fill my Crossover square for @marvelfluffbingo​.  A/N: This story contains a character who lost her hearing as she got older. I do work closely and regularly with the D/deaf community (I’m a sign language interpreter), but my own hearing problems do not involve significant hearing loss. It is not my intention to offend anyone, only to bring in a character with a quality I don’t see often in other fics. If you have questions about her, feel free to ask :)
Tumblr media
A busy emergency room wasn’t an unusual thing, especially in Boston, but tonight the chaos was weighing down on Aurelie. She pulled the magnet piece of her cochlear implant away from her head in an effort to drown out the sound for a few peaceful seconds. She stretched her neck from side to side, then rested her head in her hands. The near-silence was a welcome reprieve from the things weighing on her mind.
A tap on her shoulder prompted her to replace the magnet against her head and turn to see who was beckoning her. A nurse handed Aurelie a chart.
“The guy in room five is refusing to let anyone examine him or anything until he sees you. Says he’s got a lac, I see blood on his shirt.”
Aurelie frowned. “He seem legit?”
The nurse shrugged. “Seems like any run of the mill guy, middle class, whatever. We called security down, they’re waiting by the room.”
“All right.” She flipped through a few pages of the chart. “I don’t recognize the name, but I’ll check him out.”
She stood from the desk where she had been charting and skimmed over the rest of the chart as she walked. The curtain to room five was pulled closed for privacy, but the sliding doors were still open. Normally such a room would have been reserved for a psych patient or a near-trauma. Aurelie suspected that the nature of this patient’s refusal to speak to anyone but her had something to do with his room placement.
The request for her services was another common occurrence in the emergency room. Though no one, including most of her patients, particularly knew why she did it, Aurelie treated any injury or sickness that came into the ER, and she did so with a discretion that, at times, was outside of the law. Her casual manner about the treatments often went unnoticed by her co-workers, or didn’t bother any of them enough for them to speak up. If you lived in Boston and got tangled up in some mess that got you hurt but you didn’t want the authorities involved, you went to MassGen and asked for Dr. Juneau. That’s just the way it was.
Pulling the curtain to the side, she kept her facial expression neutral, as she would with any patient. She surveyed the man laying on the bed; at least six-two, maybe a buck-eighty in weight. Brown hair, face pale -- from his injury, Aurelie figured. She set the chart on the metal tray and crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’m Dr. Juneau. You asked for me?”
The man nodded. “I’ve heard that you’ll take care of someone and not put anything sketchy on the books.”
Aurelie licked her lips, pulling her bottom lip between her front teeth. She flipped on all of the lights in the room and surveyed the man again; his face was only vaguely familiar. Regardless, she wasn’t going to put herself on radar by causing a scene. So, she stepped out through the curtain again and told security they could go.
“He’s an old family friend, scared of hospitals. I’ll talk to him about it.”
The two guards who had come down from their bubble shrugged and left. Aurelie asked the nurse to give her a few minutes before she came back into the room. She donned a pair of gloves and disappeared back behind the curtain. After hooking him up to a heart monitor and a blood pressure cuff, she checked his temperature and respirations. With all of vitals noted, she took a seat on the rolling stool and asked where his laceration was located.
The man pulled his shirt up to reveal a cut above his left hip bone, pulling around to his abdomen. Aurelie positioned herself on the side of the bed and took a closer look at the cut.
“How’d you get this?”
“Does it matter?”
“Fair enough.” She rolled to the door and asked the nurse to bring a laceration kit. While she waited, Aurelie got a clean washcloth and doused it with sterilized water. She cleaned the dried blood from the area, then sat and waited in silence. When the nurse came with the lac kit, Aurelie sent the chart with her, and got ready to stitch the man up.
“This is gonna sting, but it’s better than taking the stitches raw,” Aurelie assured, injecting lidocaine to several places in and around the cut. She waited a little longer, then poked him with the needle again. When he didn’t even flinch, she knew she could start the stitches. “Do you need a tetanus shot?”
“Don’t think so.”
Other than that, she went to work in silence, quickly and neatly stitching up the cut, making sure the scar would be straight and minimal. The cut was halfway stitched when he spoke again.
“What’s that above your ear?”
Aurelie pursed her lips, completing two more stitches before answering him. “It’s called a cochlear implant. It helps me hear, to a certain degree.”
“You’re deaf?”
“I wasn’t always. Slowly started to lose my hearing as I got older, sometime in high school, it dropped out completely from the left side. Right side is there, but not nearly a hundred percent. They still don’t know why.” She bit her bottom lip as she struggled to knot the stitch she had just completed on. “My turn?”
He frowned. “What?”
“You asked me two questions. Now I get to ask you two questions, right?”
“I guess.”
Aurelie nodded. “Are you from Boston?”
He laughed. “The accent didn’t give it away?”
She smiled. “You needed to lighten up. It was worth wasting a question. What’s your real name?”
“My real name?”
“I know it’s not Boris Schmidt, even if that’s what’s on your chart.”
The man said nothing, and Aurelie knew better than to push the issue. They fell into silence again while Aurelie finished the stitches and bandaged the area. She left for a few minutes to fill out his dismissal papers, then returned to educate him on the aftercare.
“What are you going to put in my chart?”
Aurelie shrugged. “That you came in with a lac to your lower left flank and quadrant, there was no sign of infection or organ disturbance, that I stitched you up and sent you on your way. Nothing more, nothing less.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
Aurelie snapped her gloves into the trash can and turned back to him. “You’re welcome. Good luck.”
At the curtain, Aurelie thought she caught him say something, but had to turn back around to ask him to repeat.
“John,” he smiled. “My name is John. Krasinski.”
Aurelie’s smile faded. “Krasinski?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed, “it’s a weird one, I know.”
Aurelie nodded. “Do me a favor, John. Don’t tell anyone that I treated you.”
With that, she pulled the curtain closed behind her and went back to her desk to chart and catch up with her other patients.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
GIF found via Pinterest search. 
Three days later, another hospital shift. Fortunately, this night was not nearly as busy as her last shift. When Aurelie’s pager went off and she saw the code 613, she finished the current orders she was working on, then made way for the parking lot just outside of the emergency room lobby.
Her brother, Chris, was leaned against his car, a classic American muscle number, smoking a cigarette.
“You know this is a hospital, they’ll fine you for smoking outside of the designated area, dumbass.”
Chris turned with a chuckle, tossing the cigarette to the ground and put it out with the toe of his boot. “Better? Here. Your ma packed lunch for you.”
“That was nice of her,” Aurelie replied, taking the brown bag from him. “What’d she pack for you?”
“A nine mil and a wish that I wasn’t so much like my father. The usual.” He opened the driver’s side door of the car and reached in for another bag. “This is from him, by the way.”
Aurelie checked that no one was watching them and shoved the bag back at Chris. “I don’t want that shit, and you know it. I didn’t earn it, neither did you, neither did he. I don’t need it.”
“Aur, listen, all right? Hey, don’t make that damn face. Yeah, we’ve been over this a million times, we’re gonna fuckin’ go over it again. You’re his kid, whether you ever wanted to be or not. Maybe he’s not the dad you were born to, but he’s the one you ended up with. He’s just trying to take care of you.”
“He’s not over what happened. He still thinks my deafness is his fault, and if he pays me off long enough, I’ll come back to the family. Can’t you see that?”
Chris pursed his lips. “Why can’t you stop putting me in the middle of this?”
Aurelie groaned and tucked the extra bag into her white coat. “Fine.”
“All right.” He pulled another cigarette from the pack and held it between his lips but didn’t light it. “You been holdin’ up all right?”
“Yeah, of course. I can hold my own. You made sure of that.” She decided to take a chance and mention her patient from the other night. “Hey, you remember that guy who went to the high school, he was a year ahead of you -- John Krasinski?”
“Fuck that guy,” was Chris’s immediate response. “He and his family could jump into the river and not come back up and I’d keep walking.”
“Tell me how you really feel,” Aurelie snorted. “So that thing with your family and his, that’s still a thing?”
Chris nodded, tossing his cigarette lighter up and down in the palm of his hand. “Hell yeah, it’s still a thing. They’ll learn one day that we run shit, though. What made you think of him?”
“I don’t know. Random thought, I guess.”
The expression on her brother’s face told Aurelie he was going to be watching her carefully over the coming weeks. She thanked him for the food and went back into the hospital, careful to put the bag of money into her backpack before anyone else suspected something was amiss.
Tumblr media
AllOfTheThings: @captain-s-rogers​ @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​ @letsgetfuckingsuperwholocked​ @hurricanerin​ @horsesandbandsforlife​ @im-not-an-armrest-im-short​ @captain-rogers-beard​ @shynara51​ @sea040561​ @anxiouskore​ @pinknerdpanda​ @xtina2191​ @jackryanplz​ @beakami​ @heartsaved​ @fullprunerebelstatesman​ @blackwidowismyhomegirl
Boston Boys: @atc74​ @the-murder-strut-murdered-me​ @becs-bunker​ @shield-agent78​ @patzammit​ @crazyandanonymous4u
56 notes · View notes
blankdblank · 4 years
Text
Which King
Tumblr media
@himoverflowers​, @theincaprincess​, @aspiringtranslator​, @sweeticedtea​, @ggbbhehe4455​, @thegreyberet​, @patanghill17​, @jesgisborne​, @curvestrology​, @alishlieb​, @jogregor​, @armitageadoration​, @fizzyxcustard​, @here2have-fun​, @lilith15000​, @marvels-ghost​, @catthefearless​, @imjusthereforthereads​, @c-s-stars​, @otakumultimuse-hiddlewhore​, @mariannetora​, @shesakillerkween
“6374 counts of treason, 5674 counts of sabotage and over 3000 of our own craft and Nazgul drones and bombers brought down by your hands and that of your squadron Colonel Pear. There is nothing you could possibly say to your defense to encourage leniency, however we are mandated to ask if you would wish to make a statement on your own behalf.”
Stoically you sat listening to the hours of this useless trial now at its end in the row in front of your equally as stoic squadron’s 20 officers in charge of distributing and enforcing your orders to the 10,000 Elves under your command who had been sabotaging each and every attack Maiar King Annatar had been waging on Valinor and now beginning in Middle Earth. Each and every city had been warned and the night before the attacks whenever possible you snuck out early and emptied as many as would flee to find shelter with written instructions of safe routes under your squadron’s patrols with safe houses and hidden bunkers along the way to allied territories until eyes were turned away and they could return to the charred, and if you were the ones to bomb them, merely spot covered kingdoms in need of some dirt to fill the craters left on their edges.
It had taken an age to gain the respect and title you had earned and when this fruitless war was called on innocents with no rhyme or reason behind it you sought to bring it down yourself however possible. And now you sat in front of the Councilman reluctantly following his own orders once another squadron leader had noticed your blatant lie that the city of Numenor had been bombed while your own carriers were emptying it to Gondor. He refused to kill the fleeing masses himself but he razed the island to cinders and blew the whistle fearing what would happen if he didn’t, far too many witnesses to play the fool.
“Councilman, I have no defense past a request of my own.”
“This should be good, What is your request Colonel?”
“I wish to submit myself for genetic testing for a bone marrow match for King Annatar before I am put to death.” His brow inched up as did those on everyone now in the room both behind you and on the pair of witnessing Corporals acting as jury for both those presenting the case and your squadron to exact swift and neutral justice on your case.
.
Shielded shackles shifted around your skin under the sleeves of your sweater with charged electric belt around your middle to enforce your proximity to the guard guiding you from your assigned van to the Hospital door. Your uniform was not allowed while you were on trial and you were forbidden to name yourself to your true rank. The frigid building meant to handle the King’s medical needs and those of the Nobles dwelling in Mordor as well opened for you and your face should have been well known, had the military not hushed up your actions to keep from supporters sprouting up.
Though the more they dug it wasn’t just your elite squadron to have been breaking their orders, more and more since you had started had been making a farce all their own to save whom they could stunning the world outside now coated in smoke and ash that the soldiers of Mordor weren’t heartless as their King. A glimmer of hope while they tried to balance their shifted kin and those housing them in the remaining kingdoms now ripe with forces to aid on defense by your actions.
Everyone was kind, curious but kind as to why a guard was sent with the stoic young Elleth in the sea of well known Nobles and the best medical staff in all of Mordor. Everyone knew the King was dying, everyone knew he needed plasma and bone marrow and had five failed transplants so far to counteract the poisons he had ingested by the assassination attempt that had killed his latest consort, mother to his publicly claimed, though still openly bastard, sons. Thousands had been tested and none had been matches enough with the procedure too deadly to kill the twin boys barely out of infancy you seemed to be the latest volunteer and the most curious.
It wasn’t until your trial you had removed your standard regulated issue of black contacts and had unwoven the black and red fake fireproof strands in the woven wax topped coating your head disguising your white gold shimmering curls and silver flecked purple eyes. The face was so familiar from the front five Nobles had hit the same column staring at you once they had realized it. Queen Morko, the first wife of King Annatar, disposed of when his arranged union was discovered dissolvable to break ties with Vanyar, one of the first lands he tried to wage war on. He won in his annulment being kept in the dark on his lawful heir by his own council and since then trying to find time when not ordering murders to have a son to sate his council on the matter of heirs.
Sharply the needle jammed into your hip and you bit back your groan reminding yourself this was possibly a way to save the men you had ordered to break the order of the King. Had they been following the orders of the Crown Princess they could be absolved of all blame, which would all fall to you then and they would be restored fully to their well deserved stations while your head fell alone. The hotel across the street would be where you were sent under heavy guard while awaiting the results and with arms crossed behind your back laying on the first bed you had slept on in over seven centuries a smirk ghosted across your lips hearing the guards learning through the walls that you were the King’s child.
Within the hour you were showered and changed into more suitable clothes having been brought to you and loaded up minus the shackles to be taken to the Palace. There was a mandatory 24 hour wait to prep for the procedure and first thing at the crack of dawn the King was set for his latest transplant.
It was almost comical how friendly and instantly the King’s right hand had moved to bring you close to him. A full tour of the now bustling Palace readying to house you as well was filled with wide eyed stares and gasps held in until you were in front of the fiery haired golden eyed King whose face fell in your entrance into the Royal Sitting Room. Up to the carpet, as you were told, you approached then dropped into a deep curtsy, “Your Majesty.”
Inching up in his seat he asked, “Morko did not inform me we had conceived.”
His eyes taking in each detail of your face in the tick of your brow and slight tilt of your head, “Then who’s been sending me birthday cards?”
That had his eyes darkening and brows furrow as you produced from your bags that had been brought from the hotel the box holding cards with simple notes and the forged signature of the King. Each one more infuriating than the last to him making him ask, “Since I seem to have been kept in the dark about my heir’s life what have you made of yourself?”
“I am a Colonel in the Wraith Ring. One of your Nine, heading Angmar’s territories.”
“Ah,” he inched up with a prideful grin, “You mastered the Witch King interface then?”
“I wrote it.” Deepening his grin even more. “Though I seem to have scuffed some elbows and technically am without title and my squadron is on line for guillotine. Donation was my last request.”
Sternly he stated, “I will not lose my best and most loyal,” the guard’s brow inched up only to drop hearing, “You are cleared of all charges as are your men. Any and all duties you formerly bore shall be bound to another while you will learn the ins and out of running our Kingdom. You are my heir, already our forces will honor your orders and now we will get my council behind you as well once I uncover just who has hidden you from me.”
By morning word had exploded through the kingdom and all territories Annatar ruled over, mainly the Dwarf Kingdoms of Moria and those of the Eastern Territories. The King had an heir conceived when the union was legal and born the day before it was dissolved fully. Should the transplant not cure him, in the time bought there was one to continue his reign, but through his enemies the rank and stated previously used protective surname had heads turning and hushed whispers spreading with hope that the Princess and Colonel Pear were one and the same.
.
A painful month came not just with the procedure but with the corseted gowns and constricting hairstyles you were forced into each day. Baths even were far from private moments, with you being dressed, fed and measured for new clothes each week to ensure the finest was worn, not even mentioning the weighty jewels and crown you were publicly donning it nearly had your skin crawling knowing how hungry your people were just outside these Palace gates. A full parade and the passing of Nauglamir now with all three Silmarils dangling from the front to go with your shimmering crown and gown looking like the living embodiment of snow, same as your mother on her wedding day.
Expectations however were made at the safety of your half brothers. A longstanding tradition of your clan being when one rose to power all other heirs were culled. Only with your squadron looking on as you followed the carriage carrying your father’s coffin an order to have the pair taken away never came, and the crying confused toddlers were taken from their nannies, now with baited breath who exhaled with all others at your carrying them and refusal to release them for hours. All through the sermon, burial and back again to your Palace you had gone. Five gunshots were heard and by morning the cremated remains of those most dangerous on the council were culled taking out the last of the council who had first agreed to the war.
Those you trusted were put in their places, those you had served with, and by noon invitations were sent out for the Dwarf Lords along with the Kings of Gondor and Rohan. Envoys were sent to the Elven territories bearing your seal, one with a pear in marigold wax, one you hoped might keep them from burning it straight off.
Out of the Kingdom the shadows were cast, the orc bots you had dismantled and melted down emptying the Palace of your forced shadows greatly easing your days. Those lingering on staff stood in fear at first at your first morning as Queen until they spotted you exiting your apartment suite in jeans and a sweater with bright fuzzy socks and comfy moccasin slippers. The crown was necessary for the rank but through your private breakfast and assuring the twins were well fed and their supplies were fully stocked for the day you got to work.
Into your office you went to start on the first item on your lists, all through the Kingdoms any advancing forces were already flying home, and now you were delving through the finances seeing what else you could cut. In the month of living in this palace with your father you had enough gems and gowns to last you a year for public events so that was an easy cut to ship in the ‘best’ materials and gems to be adorning you. Already that was thousands to shift into productions of food and repairs to housing and living conditions. Hours you slaved through each and every document ticking each and every expenditure of the economy you had a huge part in trashing by destroying so much of the machinery the King no doubt had ordered replaced.
War however was the biggest cut and by Friday the Kings had arrived to greet you formally. The Dwarf Kings all but collapsed as you stated you were releasing your father’s claims over their lands. Instead offering trade deals to continue your alliance on equal footing with a new set of deals to build trust with Rohan and Gondor, the Kings for which heartily agreed at your stating your bond of peace and ceasefire to the Elven Kingdoms. Your words echoing in their ears, “I hear great things of your lands, kingdoms and people. I hope one day to visit and see them for myself, as friends.”
It was a bucket of cold water to the world how simple it seemed. Even your own people did not know what to think of you at taking such ease in dismantling everything your father had built and taken as his own. But none fully understood past the soldiers returning who praised your deeds and efforts to their kin and returned ready to aid in the repairs to the slipping Kingdoms. Angmar was fit as a fiddle under your centuries of watch with your finest in charge there in your absence, Cirith Ungul was a close second leaving Mordor, the capitol the sore thumb in the bunch. Failing health had done nothing to encourage the King to mend anything right in front of him and this was where you would start.
With a Council fully behind you and Silmarils sent off to their true owners and troops drawn back on both sides along with a trading of prisoners all terms of the ceasefire had been honored. And for once your lands had seemed to fall into silence for the rest of the world. All of them timid and cautious not to poke the hornets nest again skirting just beyond the borders when necessary and never looking fully on into the lands once decorated with flaming eyes now traded for pears. That was your extravagance, a simple job to distract right now, each and every flaming eye covered with new banners to hang on the streetlamps.
But day by day eyes had turned to the reclusive Queen as whispers spread. Revenge had been taken, every monument to him once planned now for something new whenever the thought came to you. Ages you had fought and scrambled for safety and now in this silent Palace filled with nothing but expectations and open palms over the cries of the hungry and those in need, you never felt so afraid as when you had claimed your birthright. One truth you held to was the one that echoed through the soldiers under your command, you never signed up to kill babies. It was simple, you needed funds and a roof over your head when your mother had died and with a war being called for you found your place to go. Straight ahead never looking back and becoming the greatest asset to the rise and eventual downfall of the King. Day by day confidence grew at the pantries, number of repairs and services restored did.
.
Praise had come and with a looming date on the horizon a stunning silence from the Palace, while the boys slept through their nap you yourself had put them down for, shifting papers were taken as a plan to celebrate. It wasn’t a day to be missed out on, every kingdom had one, Name Day for their Ruling Family celebrated by all. Expectations however had bubbled and sank as once again through a score of meetings you sat hashing through more pathetic laws to be changed and had secured plans to travel to Rivendell to celebrate the birth of their young Princess, the first of your travels to supposedly enemy territory after your truce. The plans they had all hoped to hear of were for the celebration of your own birth, in true fashion no Noble could fashion a gift until you had openly begun planning it and with a week left there would be little to no time to find anything suitable.
Tumblr media
Weeks you had slaved and in your usual fashion once again off the cold floor your cheek rose at the clunk of a bucket, a sharp inhale from you startled the young lady sent to clean your chimney in your study who dropped to a low curtsy. In her try to pretend she didn’t just find the Queen across the floor in a circle of notes in the cusp of a harsh biting winter storm set she stated, “My apologies, Your Majesty.”
Onto your feet you climbed brushing your curls back from your face furrowing your brows in a focusing squint at the clock, “No, no need for that.” To her again you looked and her eyes dropped from catching your glowing pair used to being shouted at by the King for doing so, “Tillie, right?”
Peering up at you she nodded her head with wide eyes wondering how you knew her name, “Yes, Ma’am.”
With a nod you said, “It seems I should leave you to your work, and try to rest before continuing mine. Just,” you sighed motioning a hand over the papers on the floor, “Don’t bother with this, I’ll deal with it later.” Out of the room you strolled and grumbled stretching your arms over your head lifting your baggy sweater a bit exposing the top of the logo on your cut off sweats matching the one on your tall fuzzy socks.
Into another curtsy she dropped stating, “Good night, Your Majesty.” Timidly shifting on her feet ensuring you had turned down the hall and out of her sight before anxiously turning back.
Whispers, steady and murmured was proof of their growing hope for how deeply you cared for your people. Each night found on one floor or chair in room after room. Dropping into sudden naps between meetings or simple meals urging the kitchen staff to add more hearty items to the menu to ensure you had enough to fuel you. All frivolity taken away and down to bare bones you had stripped the Majesty from the Palace, only in their eyes were you Queen glowing radiantly when you sat in meetings or burned at both ends through the night exhausting all you could to ensure the comfort of others. You knew pain and with no one to call your own and guide you to bed at night all they could do was wait and watch for you to ask for help or a break.
Still, every Sunday there was no meeting, no expected trip through the Kingdom to check on repairs yourself often ending with your pitching in and then returning home to play with the boys and see to their care until bed yourself as the rest of the week went. No, Sunday was the most unnerving of all as you wouldn’t even leave your rooms, and stolen glimpses from window washers by accident confirmed the silence was from your sleeping most of the day through. The break was well needed and not without use as you were often glowing more than usual on Monday through whatever was lined up for the day. But Sunday from to Tuesday whispers had grown and entering your dining room the boys were carried into you kissed them both and sat down helping to feed them while waiting on your own meal.
There should have been a parade, bands and banners, balloons and confetti shot into the air while you were paraded about Mordor. And yet the kitchen staff stared at the stack of waffles, sides and omelet you had wanted with a deep clench in their guts. You yourself had remarked on your age going up on this particular day leading up to it so it couldn’t be a misplaced date. This was deliberate, through the streets it flooded and remorseful gazes spread around knowing their Queen had cut her own celebration to ensure they had all they needed. Tears and sniffles at the weight of the sacrifice after all you had done for them grew by the moment and a slipped lit candle into the sliced orange on the side of your meal grated them what they imagined to be the only time you would smile that day.
Chuckling weakly to yourself you thanked the staff for their best wishes and blew out the candle, wishing only for a good spring to follow this harsh winter you had expected then dug in. A noon meeting came after more hours of delving through backlogged papers and records, one that halfway through the echo of distant music had your brows furrowing in a rise to approach the far window. The tearing of spare pieces of parchment from old posters had filled trash cans with homemade confetti and in a haphazard way a band was pulled together and into the main courtyard just outside the Palace gates you watched lanterns being strung up along with final touches.
Tumblr media
Pulling on your coat you joined your fellow former officers out into the snow ensuring you had your crown on straight, out through the gates you went only to grin at the sea of people having all made origami swans and flowers with well wishes written inside as their gifts. Music continued and into the growing celebration you gladly spoke with all who wished to and giggled your way through a few dances with some of your officers and a very enthusiastic baker who thanked you so long for bringing his sons home safe to him. By sunset a final city wide singing of the traditional song for a wish for many returns had you holding back your tears that finally broke loose once you had gotten back inside after insisting everyone go home and get warm at the growing snow thanking them heartily.
The smallest ballroom now held the tokens and to bed you went trying to stop crying as you knew you would and had each year since losing your mother. So long you’d been alone and you didn’t need the reminder that you were alone for another year. At least with the boys the topic of heirs could be put off, they could be counted as yours for now until you had settled alliances and considered your options. Even with the war you were decided to choose well and that would be hard given your lineage. Still time could do wondrous things and perhaps your reputation could top his, one day cushioning the search for a Mr.
Tumblr media
.
Tumblr media
A marigold dress and heels where what you chose and after your secure flight you landed on the outskirts of Rivendell. Eyes were glued to you and those old enough straight away recognized which line you came from, not your father’s but your mother’s. Straight from High King Inwe, who was in attendance and had heard how you had saved those in the smaller territory your uncle ruled over, including him. Straight from the entrance to the mingling hall you went after a brief meeting with the aid in charge of greeting you until Lord Elrond would get to you in the long line of guests to greet himself. Distant relations from the Vanyar broke the silence and gathered around you with those from Gondolin next.
Beside Lord Ecthellion a familiar curly haired blonde Lord stood with a serious expression in taking in your every reaction while Lord Ecthellion questioned you inevitably asking the question they all had been wondering. “It is an honorable thing to have strove as hard as you have to spare as many as you had. However, I must ask why, why would you risk your life to do so? Any other King would have killed you for such disobedience.”
“It wasn’t what I signed up for.”
Lord Glorfindel asked coldly, “And just what did you sign up for?”
Your eyes met his and you said, “I had just buried Naneth and the forces promised shelter, a bed and food. I didn’t sign up to kill babies. He had already taken everything from me, someone had to try and stop him.”
Glorfindel harshly replied, “Some-,”
“From our side.”
Lord Ecthellion stated and drew your gaze, “Your eyes were brighter, of all the forces we interacted with, I doubted I could have ever mistaken them without your contacts. We received your letter of peace, consider it honored. We would cherish a friendship with you, Queen Jaqiearae. And if I may, Queen Morko would be proud.”
Forcing a grin you replied, “No, she would have insisted I forgive him and let him learn on his own without my intruding.”
Glorfindel, “Surely your offer to donate your bone marrow could be taken as forgiveness.”
Your eyes met his again, “One of the other officers turned me in. When my verdict at the treason trial was to be read I was allowed a statement. I requested to be tested for a match to the King before I lost my head.”
Glorfindel’s eyes narrowed, “I don’t follow.”
“Meaning the King had no clue I existed, and only I knew who I came from. When they learned who that was, my officers were following orders of the King’s Heir and would be pardoned from execution.”
Ecthellion, “You expected for him to kill you.” He stated it matter of factly with the shock of the words sinking in as you were approached by an aid you grinned to, “Queen Jaqiearae, Lord Elrond is ready to greet you.”
“Lovely,” In a nod to the others you stated, “My Lords.” Stepping away you felt their eyes on you and between themselves they chatted while you passed through the rest of the whispering Elves and now heavily guarded Lord waiting for you.
Tumblr media
Nodding his head he stated, “Queen Jaqiearae, you made good time.”
“Yes, managed to coast on the edge of a storm. Thank you for inviting me, and congratulations on your third child. A daughter is a fine gift.”
That was sincere and that was what puzzled the guards, simple gratitude and a peaceful demeanor. “Thank you. We wished to prove our intentions of honoring your peace treaty and ceasefire, it was this or our Equinox celebration next month.”
“Ah, yes, I doubt I could have made the Equinox,” that made his brow inch up, “Our hail season over our peaks flights are grounded. All the same, I understand your caution and I do hope one day we might find comfort in one another’s company. And I do apologize if my gift is not rather impressive, I have not been privy to many noble celebrations to know what a proper gift for a Princess might be. As it goes my brothers are getting socks for theirs.”
Unable to help it he smirked at your hint of a smirk in amusement at your own pitiful joke and he replied, “I am certain our daughter will appreciate your gift no matter what it is. Just as I am certain your brothers will enjoy theirs. I was led to understand they are named as your heirs.”
You nodded, “I have spent so long in war, I know little else past leading people. Until I find myself guided to another I am content I have a cushion before my new council dares bring up my finding a suitor. As if I would be a catch.”
Elrond smirked replying, “You are more Morko than Annatar, your actions prove it. I trust you will have offers in no time.”
“Patience would be key then, I am terribly dull in warming up to others, in which many have lost interest on the pathway in.”
“True of us all, Queen Jaqiearae.” His lingering grin through the evening calmed a great deal of guests and his fond gazes from afar in your various mini interrogations solidified he had a budding trust for you already soon matched by a small group of others you hadn’t saved. In the pile of gifts a simple wooden box sat and with a grin Elrond and Celebrian inspected it and found the key. With it they opened the lid to see a miniature of Luthien dancing in the circle of rotating rings with Beren on a swiveling path but always obstructed by bushes to the iconic tune of the song in their honor. The gift itself was simple yet as she grew it could house a few simple pieces of jewelry or letters in the two drawers below the mirrored top but hearing you had made it yourself from scratch added to the sentiment of the intentions of it.
Clearly you were trying to be friendly, restraining your remarks from the defensive stance you would be allowed at having to constantly answer to everyone around you and the resolve to do so had worn down quite a bit of those still upset you had been invited. You remained off to the side and kept out of conversations unless invited cherishing the silence while it lasted and ended your first day in the gardens between two of the fountains avoiding another conversation, just staring up at the stars.
Tumblr media
Behind you Glorfindel stated, “I misjudged you,” your head turned and his eyes met yours, “And for that I apologize, Queen Jaqiearae.”
“No need to apologize. So many people keep apologizing to me lately. I wish they would stop. I have never been one to demand them. We burned your cities, you owe me nothing, Lord Glorfindel.”
“Technically, you dirtied our cities and blew craters around them.”
The hint of teasing in his voice made your brow flinch a moment, “Careful there, someone might assume you were planning on sending me a cleaning bill.”
Lowly he chortled replying, “No doubt we have ample enough numbers to scrub our own kingdoms. Thanks to you more than half our crops were spared as well. Truly you could be the worst person to have guiding a King through war.”
“I suppose it’s a good thing I don’t have one then. Well, either of them.” Another glance up and you said, “I should head to bed before I fall asleep in Lord Elrond’s gardens.”
“Pity,” he teased and you looked him over curiously, “We were imagining some proof for the claims you sleep on the floor.”
“I am here for the weekend, there is time yet. Lord Glorfindel.” You bowed your head and he did the same and watched you turn to head for your assigned guest chambers.
Pt 2
32 notes · View notes
theauspolchronicles · 5 years
Text
Summarising political parties: minor parties edition
This is for all the parties that don’t currently have any seats but would like them. If you want to know about those currently with a seat in the Senate/House of Reps click here.
Australian Better Families:
Surprise! It’s the MRA but now with a different name!
Australian Christians:
Right wing Christians. This is the party for you if you think “separation of church and state” is meaningless and also you feel threatened by gay people existing. Oh and because they’re right wing they’re also not keen on the scientific consensus that climate change is real. Wow what a surprise.
Australian Democrats:
Centrists. They used to be a thing back in the 80s and 90s where they held the balance of power in the Senate but then their support declined harshly and then their founder Chipp died. They were deregistered in 2015 but then re-registered in 2019. They believe climate change is real and needs to be acted upon, the economy relies on educated Australians with lifelong skills, support a federal integrity commission for politicians that could arrest politicians, apply standards for truth in political advertising laws that apply to commercial advertising, and want to invest in rural Australia.
Animal Justice Party:
Tumblr media
Vegans. What it says on the tin is pretty accurate. They also want more action on climate change.
Australian Affordable Housing Party:
My first thought was “hey, this is going to be an anti-immigration party” but from their website:
“Let's make this clear: immigrants are not "to blame" for expensive housing or congested roads and public transport. It's Australia's federal politicians who are to blame...”
Weird use of quotation marks there guys but ok.
“We fear that Australia's rapid population growth is eroding the laid back quality of lifestyle that attracts migrants to this country in the first place, and we don't want them to be disappointed when they arrive here.”
Yeah so pretty straightforward. Title says it all.
Australia First:
With a website that screams web 1.0 you’ll be transported far back into the past of not just the internet, but what’s acceptable to say about non-whites! It’s so damn archaic and out of touch with reality that it’s endorsed by the KKK! What other racist party can claim that badge of honour, huh? It’s led by an actual Nazi and convicted Jim Saleam, but hasn’t ever managed federal electoral success.
Australian People’s Party:
They’ve got some nice things like increasing Newstart by $100, increasing aged pension, fracking moratorium, and solar panels on all government buildings. Nice. Oh and then they want to remove the tax free threshold, remove work related deductions, and then you guessed it: tough on immigrants. Surprise! They’re Nationalists who want immigrants to speak English and for refugees to go home. Who didn’t see that coming.
Australian Progressives:
Dental care to be part of medicare, federal anti-corruption body to be created, and funding for the ABC and SBS increased. Bam. Oh and 100% renewable energy by 2030 - just like The Greens!
Australian Workers Party:
They reject neoliberal trickle down economics that favours the rich. They want to increase the disposable income of the working class which means the tax free threshold according to them should be $75,000. That’s right. Pay no tax unless you earn over 75K... unless you’re on a 457 working visa in which case it’s 15% for 0-50k.
They also want a universal job guarantee which involves anyone willing and able to work a community job at “a socially inclusive minimum wage.”
Also pro-union, unsurprisingly enough.
Child Protection Party:
It’s one of those rare gems that want to protect families and children and don’t use that to mean “by excluding LGBT+ people.” Their focus (if you can’t tell) is child welfare.
Christian Democratic Party:
Another Christian right wing party, another group of homophobes. They’ve never successfully elected anyone to federal parliament because that’s good because they’re pointless. The Liberals can be homophobic and right wing for them and do it far more effectively.
Citizens Electoral Council:
They want to audit the banks, establish a national bank, scrap pubic-private partnerships for infrastructure, consider nuclear power the safest form of energy (???), are against “extreme green policies” that damage farmers, invest in publish health care, end indefinite detention, and are critical of the USA alliance that has drawn us into several wars.
Climate Action! Immigration Action! Accountable Politicians!
When do we want it? Not yet apparently! They’re for direct democracy where they say they don’t have any policies but instead poll voters for every bill that passes Parliament... but also the name heavily implies they have 3 very important policies to them. So... uh...
Democratic Labour Party:
Social conservatives! You know what that means! Homophobia! Anti-abortion, anti-euthanasia, etc. Pro military. Anti-Gambling. Social justice approach to asylum seekers though which is interesting. They’re against monopolies and support small businesses (what a surprise given the Labour in the name).
Health Party Australia:
Formerly known as the “Natural Medicine Party” and also more accurately known by that name as well. They don’t like vaccinations, fluoride in the water, and want homeopathy to be regarded on the same level as “pharmaceutical medicine” (or as regular people know it: medicine). They’ve come under fire by doctors around the country for things like “being a bunch of conspiracy theorists.” Really this is an example of why reading about a party first is good because the name is misleading. They’re quite unhealthy people.
Help End Marijuana Prohibition (HEMP) Party:
Tumblr media
Do... do you really need an explanation for this one or...
Independents For Climate Action Now:
That’s it. That’s their only policy. Climate change action now!
Involuntary Medication Objectors (Vaccination/Fluoride) Party:
They have two issues and they’re both conspiracy theories. It’s as if your ignorant ableist aunt on Facebook decided she wanted a political party to spread anti-science propaganda.
Jacqui Lambie Network:
Tumblr media
Founded by the famously stupid former Palmer United Party member, Jacqui Labmie who is against “sharia law” yet cannot actually tell you what it is. She’s pro-veterans as she herself used to serve in the armed forces. She was found ineligible due to section 44 so is hoping to recontest the 2019 federal election and get back in, and maybe some of her mates as well I guess. She got replaced by Steve Martin (not the comedian) who then refused to step down to create a casual vacancy for her, so she expelled him from her “Network” and he went off to join the Nationals.
She is distinguished from the rest of the right wing anti-Islam assholes in that she surprisingly supports dedicated Indigenous seats in parliament. Which is a nice idea.
Shame she’s a nationalist though and nationalism is terrible.
Non-Custodial Parents Party (Equal Parenting)
Is a centre-right party fighting for father’s rights and has been for over 20 years now. On their website they have a letter to Pauline Hanson praising her for having more guts than anyone else, and says we shouldn’t let the “political elite, the feminists, and the politically correct” undermine equality and justice. It also has a brief bit attacking Muslims. Wow.
So this is a trash party for trash people.
Pirate Party Australia:
Arrrr matey by pirate we mean reform of copyright law... arrr. Their issues: net neutrality, pro-euthanasia, freedom of speech (which you guessed it: means everyone gets to be racist), repealing metadata retention laws so everyone can have digital privacy, pro-climate change action, and providing universal fast access to the internet.
Republican Party of Australia:
Simple: end our link with the UK and establish a republic. For those who don’t know: in 1999 we had a referendum regarding whether or not Australia should become a republic and it came back a majority no. Malcolm Turnbull is in support of a republic and says we should become one after the death of Queen Elizabeth II, though hasn’t done much to act on that lately.
Reason Party:
Tumblr media
They were formerly known as the Sex Party, and most likely got a lot of votes simply by the name alone. As the former name suggests: they care about sex workers. They’re libertarians so are for decriminalising recreational drug use, legalising ethanasia, supporting LGBT+ rights, and getting rid of religious tax exemptions.
Rise Up Australia:
Yeah just another dime a dozen racist far-right anti-Islam asshole party.
Science Party:
Tumblr media
Increase science funding! Also a republic. Increased immigration. More renewable energy (because climate change is real, duh). They’re pro-free market and high density cities. My favourite fact about them is that they had a candidate legally named Meow-Ludo Disco Gamma Meow-Meow who surgically inserted an Opal Card chip into his hand.
Secular Party of Australia:
Secular humanists/liberals. They’re the atheists answer to the Christian political parties. Unsurprisingly they’re about separation of church and state and promoting secularism. They don’t want government to support religious schools, any religious attire at schools, no more school chaplains, oh and no sharia law. They are pro-marriage equality, sex education, anti-discrimination laws, and euthanasia.
Seniors United Party of Australia:
By old people, for old people...
...who want to reduce our immigration intake... What a surprise that the old people don’t like foreigners.
Shooters, Fishes, and Farmers Party:
Tumblr media
Do you want a GUN? Because they originally were founded based off gun reform and want people to have access to guns for self defence. They’re unsurprisingly right wing. They’ve since expanded to support recreational fihsing and four wheel driving. They want a royal commission into water management and also a bill to protect farmers against animal rights activists.
Their policy on environmental issues doesn’t mention climate change. 
Socialist Alliance:
They’re most famous for people those people that come up to you at a rally to promote their meetings and rallies and then talk to you about how great it’d be to join them while you’re trying to listen to the speakers formally invited by the rally you’re at to talk.
They’re socialists. Duh. Far-left pro-refugees, pro-Indigenous Australian rights, anit-racism, pro-national bank, national energy, raising the minimum wage, reducing the working week, and opposes new coalmines. They’re also anti-war and believe climate change is incredibly important.
Socialist Equality Party:
Socialists but... slightly different. They oppose the Me Too movement... which is... weird. They’re anti-war, call for Julian Assange to be freed, want urgent action on climate change, and want a socialist future.
#Sustainable Australia:
“We’re not anti-immigration, but...” says the party whose main platform is reducing immigration intake. Ten bucks says they’re a bunch of racists.
The Arts Party:
They’re for increased funding to arts and public broadcasting. They want to invest “in minds, not mines” and “collaborative politics and evidence-based solutions” but don’t have a “policies” section to their website. I think... that’s it. They... like the arts.
The Great Australian Party:
When you’re not good at coming up names... you get this. Ever wondered what happened to former One Nation senator Rod Culleton after he was found ineligible to be in parliament? Me neither. But this is what he did: create a party that wants to abolish the Family Court of Australia.
The Small Business Party:
They want to lower taxes on small businesses and cut immigration. They support neoliberalism.
The Together Party:
Awwww what a sweet name. Now let’s look under the hood.
They’re pro-climate change action! They want to half the defence budget and put that into free university education and support TAFE. They’re pro-Universal Basic Income, which would provide money to anyone without a job. They, like the Greens, want a Buffett tax rule where anyone earning over $250,000 must pay tax regardless of their deductions. They want treaties with Indigenous Australian, more women in government, and a better minimum wage, and more.
The Women’s Party:
They’re all about women. They care about equal representation of women in parliament and equal pay. Their ideology is liberal feminism.
Yellow Vest Australia:
Another party, another bunch of racist far-right anti-Islam assholes.
Voluntary Euthanasia Party:
Really you’ve got a pretty straight forward explanation in the name.
Voteflux.org | upgrade democracy!
Tumblr media
Perhaps the most interesting minor party yet. They don’t have policies. That’s the point. They want their members to not have autonomy but instead have issues determined by the public voting on a per issue basis and then the Flux members acting off that.
Western Australia Party:
Better GST distribution to WA. Better federal funding for WA infrastructure (roads, hospitals, schools, etc). Federal incentives for manufacturing in WA and defence contracts for WA. Also oppose removing franking credits. And support the government’s current Border Protection policy. They also want better funding for Drug Rehabilitation, better facilities for Mental Health, and increase federal support for Aboriginal Ranger programs... in WA. This party is about WA guys. WA.
Are they running in your area?
Of course many of these parties are small and won’t be in your electorate, or not even your state. But the AEC has a comprehensive list of every candidate running in the 2019 federal election and their state/electorate so you can view that list here.
1K notes · View notes
Text
Boston Boys [Part One]
Tumblr media
Summary: Dr. Aurelie Juneau treats someone in the emergency room she shouldn’t, and get a visit from her brother a few days later. Pairing: Chris Evans x OFC, John Krasinski x OFC Word Count: 1700 Chapter Warnings: Hospital setting and treatment, mentions of guns, implied crime. A/N: This story contains a character who lost her hearing as she got older. I do work closely and regularly with the D/deaf community (I’m a sign language interpreter), but my own hearing problems do not involve significant hearing loss. It is not my intention to offend anyone, only to bring in a character with a quality I don’t see often in other fics. If you have questions about her, feel free to ask :)
Tumblr media
A busy emergency room wasn’t an unusual thing, especially in Boston, but tonight the chaos was weighing down on Aurelie. She pulled the magnet piece of her cochlear implant away from her head in an effort to drown out the sound for a few peaceful seconds. She stretched her neck from side to side, then rested her head in her hands. The near-silence was a welcome reprieve from the things weighing on her mind.
A tap on her shoulder prompted her to replace the magnet against her head and turn to see who was beckoning her. A nurse handed Aurelie a chart.
“The guy in room five is refusing to let anyone examine him or anything until he sees you. Says he’s got a lac, I see blood on his shirt.”
Aurelie frowned. “He seem legit?”
The nurse shrugged. “Seems like any run of the mill guy, middle class, whatever. We called security down, they’re waiting by the room.”
“All right.” She flipped through a few pages of the chart. “I don’t recognize the name, but I’ll check him out.”
She stood from the desk where she had been charting and skimmed over the rest of the chart as she walked. The curtain to room five was pulled closed for privacy, but the sliding doors were still open. Normally such a room would have been reserved for a psych patient or a near-trauma. Aurelie suspected that the nature of this patient’s refusal to speak to anyone but her had something to do with his room placement.
The request for her services was another common occurrence in the emergency room. Though no one, including most of her patients, particularly knew why she did it, Aurelie treated any injury or sickness that came into the ER, and she did so with a discretion that, at times, was outside of the law. Her casual manner about the treatments often went unnoticed by her co-workers, or didn’t bother any of them enough for them to speak up. If you lived in Boston and got tangled up in some mess that got you hurt but you didn’t want the authorities involved, you went to MassGen and asked for Dr. Juneau. That’s just the way it was.
Pulling the curtain to the side, she kept her facial expression neutral, as she would with any patient. She surveyed the man laying on the bed; at least six-two, maybe a buck-eighty in weight. Brown hair, face pale -- from his injury, Aurelie figured. She set the chart on the metal tray and crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’m Dr. Juneau. You asked for me?”
The man nodded. “I’ve heard that you’ll take care of someone and not put anything sketchy on the books.”
Aurelie licked her lips, pulling her bottom lip between her front teeth. She flipped on all of the lights in the room and surveyed the man again; his face was only vaguely familiar. Regardless, she wasn’t going to put herself on radar by causing a scene. So, she stepped out through the curtain again and told security they could go.
“He’s an old family friend, scared of hospitals. I’ll talk to him about it.”
The two guards who had come down from their bubble shrugged and left. Aurelie asked the nurse to give her a few minutes before she came back into the room. She donned a pair of gloves and disappeared back behind the curtain. After hooking him up to a heart monitor and a blood pressure cuff, she checked his temperature and respirations. With all of vitals noted, she took a seat on the rolling stool and asked where his laceration was located.
The man pulled his shirt up to reveal a cut above his left hip bone, pulling around to his abdomen. Aurelie positioned herself on the side of the bed and took a closer look at the cut.
“How’d you get this?”
“Does it matter?”
“Fair enough.” She rolled to the door and asked the nurse to bring a laceration kit. While she waited, Aurelie got a clean washcloth and doused it with sterilized water. She cleaned the dried blood from the area, then sat and waited in silence. When the nurse came with the lac kit, Aurelie sent the chart with her, and got ready to stitch the man up.
“This is gonna sting, but it’s better than taking the stitches raw,” Aurelie assured, injecting lidocaine to several places in and around the cut. She waited a little longer, then poked him with the needle again. When he didn’t even flinch, she knew she could start the stitches. “Do you need a tetanus shot?”
“Don’t think so.”
Other than that, she went to work in silence, quickly and neatly stitching up the cut, making sure the scar would be straight and minimal. The cut was halfway stitched when he spoke again.
“What’s that above your ear?”
Aurelie pursed her lips, completing two more stitches before answering him. “It’s called a cochlear implant. It helps me hear, to a certain degree.”
“You’re deaf?”
“I wasn’t always. Slowly started to lose my hearing as I got older, sometime in high school, it dropped out completely from the left side. Right side is there, but not nearly a hundred percent. They still don’t know why.” She bit her bottom lip as she struggled to knot the stitch she had just completed on. “My turn?”
He frowned. “What?”
“You asked me two questions. Now I get to ask you two questions, right?”
“I guess.”
Aurelie nodded. “Are you from Boston?”
He laughed. “The accent didn’t give it away?”
She smiled. “You needed to lighten up. It was worth wasting a question. What’s your real name?”
“My real name?”
“I know it’s not Boris Schmidt, even if that’s what’s on your chart.”
The man said nothing, and Aurelie knew better than to push the issue. They fell into silence again while Aurelie finished the stitches and bandaged the area. She left for a few minutes to fill out his dismissal papers, then returned to educate him on the aftercare.
“What are you going to put in my chart?”
Aurelie shrugged. “That you came in with a lac to your lower left flank and quadrant, there was no sign of infection or organ disturbance, that I stitched you up and sent you on your way. Nothing more, nothing less.”
He nodded. “Thank you.”
Aurelie snapped her gloves into the trash can and turned back to him. “You’re welcome. Good luck.”
At the curtain, Aurelie thought she caught him say something, but had to turn back around to ask him to repeat.
“John,” he smiled. “My name is John. Krasinski.”
Aurelie’s smile faded. “Krasinski?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed, “it’s a weird one, I know.”
Aurelie nodded. “Do me a favor, John. Don’t tell anyone that I treated you.”
With that, she pulled the curtain closed behind her and went back to her desk to chart and catch up with her other patients.
Tumblr media Tumblr media
GIF found via Pinterest search.
Three days later, another hospital shift. Fortunately, this night was not nearly as busy as her last shift. When Aurelie’s pager went off and she saw the code 613, she finished the current orders she was working on, then made way for the parking lot just outside of the emergency room lobby.
Her brother, Chris, was leaned against his car, a classic American muscle number, smoking a cigarette.
“You know this is a hospital, they’ll fine you for smoking outside of the designated area, dumbass.”
Chris turned with a chuckle, tossing the cigarette to the ground and put it out with the toe of his boot. “Better? Here. Your ma packed lunch for you.”
“That was nice of her,” Aurelie replied, taking the brown bag from him. “What’d she pack for you?”
“A nine mil and a wish that I wasn’t so much like my father. The usual.” He opened the driver’s side door of the car and reached in for another bag. “This is from him, by the way.”
Aurelie checked that no one was watching them and shoved the bag back at Chris. “I don’t want that shit, and you know it. I didn’t earn it, neither did you, neither did he. I don’t need it.”
“Aur, listen, all right? Hey, don’t make that damn face. Yeah, we’ve been over this a million times, we’re gonna fuckin’ go over it again. You’re his kid, whether you ever wanted to be or not. Maybe he’s not the dad you were born to, but he’s the one you ended up with. He’s just trying to take care of you.”
“He’s not over what happened. He still thinks my deafness is his fault, and if he pays me off long enough, I’ll come back to the family. Can’t you see that?”
Chris pursed his lips. “Why can’t you stop putting me in the middle of this?”
Aurelie groaned and tucked the extra bag into her white coat. “Fine.”
“All right.” He pulled another cigarette from the pack and held it between his lips but didn’t light it. “You been holdin’ up all right?”
“Yeah, of course. I can hold my own. You made sure of that.” She decided to take a chance and mention her patient from the other night. “Hey, you remember that guy who went to the high school, he was a year ahead of you -- John Krasinski?”
“Fuck that guy,” was Chris’s immediate response. “He and his family could jump into the river and not come back up and I’d keep walking.”
“Tell me how you really feel,” Aurelie snorted. “So that thing with your family and his, that’s still a thing?”
Chris nodded, tossing his cigarette lighter up and down in the palm of his hand. “Hell yeah, it’s still a thing. They’ll learn one day that we run shit, though. What made you think of him?”
“I don’t know. Random thought, I guess.”
The expression on her brother’s face told Aurelie he was going to be watching her carefully over the coming weeks. She thanked him for the food and went back into the hospital, careful to put the bag of money into her backpack before anyone else suspected something was amiss.
Tumblr media
Tags: @themtbmbgirl​ @keithseabrook27​ @ulovemelightsout​ @rosie2801​
12 notes · View notes
thebiasrekkers · 4 years
Text
Make It Right [BTS Mafia!AU]
Tumblr media
Pairings: Jin x OC | Taehyung/Hoseok x OC | Yoongi/Jungkook x OC Genre: BTS Mafia!AU Warnings: Graphic Violence, Heavy Language, Angst, Smut, Slow Burn WC: 2,771 Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 “It’s always darkest before the dawn…” It’s a dog-eat-dog world in Seoul, South Korea. One has to dwell in the shadows in order to reach for the light. What are you willing to sacrifice in order to feel the sunlight on your face? What will it take to drag you back into darkness? How long will the journey be to make it right?
AO3 | WP
Chapter 10: So What?
Tumblr media
Anastasia cradled her cup of coffee in her hand as she sat at her desk in her upstairs loft. She scrolled through a series of emails, work and non-work related. On her days off, she normally didn’t indulge in busying herself with work things. But it was the third day and she was feeling antsy. This was her fourth cup of coffee and she was only just now starting to feel the effects of it.
There were a few clients she was planning on getting in touch with about a few ambitious business ventures that she was hoping to steer them clear from. Not that she was above taking a few risks in her life. She certainly wouldn’t have gotten this far in her own company had she not impulsively taken the plunge. But she also didn’t believe in going “all in” unless there was a guarantee that success would be waiting on the other side.
Her eyes lingered on the screen for a moment longer, a low groan issuing from her throat. Anastasia couldn’t stop thinking about the offer that Kim Seokjin put on the table for her. It wasn’t like it was some chump change he was throwing at her. While she had to get her hands on the actual contract for her to be sure, Anastasia never earned that amount of money in an entire month. Double the amount and she could remember that that was what she would make in a full year when she first started out with her company.
Who said “no” to that much money?
No one, that’s who, came the bitter thought.
She stood from her chair, picking up her phone while still holding her mug of coffee. Anastasia ignored the messy blankets on her bed. It was her day off and she didn’t feel like she had a need to straighten up. She’d already done laundry for the day and had every intention to lounge around in her pajamas all day.
In the back of her mind, Anastasia was hoping that Seokjin was just messing around. There was no way that he could afford to throw that kind of cash in her face. At least that’s what she wanted to believe. But then she thought back to a conversation she had with Jungkook back when they were still together. He’d been upfront about his association with the Golden Jackals. He was a gangster, plain and simple.
Blame it on her naivety, but she always believed that anyone associated with the mafia was rough around the edges, getting into street fights and being mowed down by guns. Sure, civilians owning guns outside of sporting and hunting was against the law in South Korea – something she was internally relieved and grateful for. People could get into brawls and, hell, if someone was persistent enough, they could kill with a set of metal chopsticks. But it curbed the violence significantly. When she’d started dating Jungkook, he always looked so put together and the rest of his friends, his “brothers”, were equally well-kept.
This was the glamorous side of the mafia, she guessed. Anastasia remembered the ridiculously large mansion Tony Montana had in Scarface or the deep family connections that were intertwined in The Godfather. But this wasn’t some movie or book or television show. This was the real-life Korean mafia she was dealing with and, frankly, it hadn’t been so bad. Jungkook had been a gentleman and was always sweet to her. However, the feelings only stopped to a certain point and they both agreed that they were better off as friends.
But even in that short amount of time, Anastasia had seen the boys struggle from time to time. Not as much as they probably let on, but she’d still seen it. At least from Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook. She’d crossed paths with Namjoon and Seokjin by chance and she’d seen Hoseok at a glance. Yoongi was often gone, leaving on business trips here and there. Was that when things were starting to get better? When things were less dirty and leaning toward something more legitimate?
Jungkook told her once that they were trying to play it straight, but they just weren’t ready yet. It wasn’t time.
Is now the time? Is that why Seokjin offered that crazy deal?
Making her way down the stairs from her loft, Anastasia sipped her coffee – her mind focusing on what the motive could be. And why her? Why did he seek her out personally for something like that? Was it because of her connection with Jungkook from the past? But they weren’t even together anymore. Why would that even hold any bearing on wanting to hire her to handle something as important as money?
Beep. Beep.
Anastasia jumped, a soft squeak pushing from her throat as the door buzzer to her apartment sliced through her thoughts. For a moment, all she could do was stare at her front door and blink. She looked at her phone, noting the time but not seeing any notifications. No text messages. No missed phone calls. Not even any new email pings.
Maybe if she pretended not to be there, the person would go away. Besides, there was no way that Seokjin was able to put together a perfect contract in three days. She’d been in enough meetings and engaged in numerous business dealings to know that contracts were amended and changed until both parties were absolutely satisfied. Seokjin knew what he wanted from her, but that didn’t mean that he knew what she wanted from him.
A handful of seconds passed, and she sighed – her body pulling toward the kitchen so she could start a pot of tea. No more coffee. She’d had enough. It was time to wind down.
Loud banging issued from the other side of the door and Anastasia jumped again, dropping the cup into the sink with a crash. The ceramic cracked down the side and she frowned as her coffee leaked into the sink and slid down the drain. Her lips pressed into a thin line, brows furrowing over her eyes. A few strands of her hair fell across the bridge of her nose before she blew them off her face in frustration.
She stalked towards the door, feet heavy even in her house slippers, and wrenched the door open angrily. “What in the ever-living fuck?!” she yelled, not caring if her neighbors protested. Clearly, her unannounced guest didn’t care about them either, what with them banging on her door like that.
On the other side stood Seokjin. He seemed unfazed by her outburst, holding out a manila envelope out to her as well as a brown paper bag. He must have stopped by somewhere on the way. Smiling, he waited for her to take either one or both from his hands.
“Breakfast?”
Blinking at him, she wasn’t sure what to make of this. Anastasia was expecting a parcel, not a personal visit. Part of her was a little impressed with his persistence, but then a spark of irritation jumped near her temple as her cheeks flushed a soft scarlet.
She was standing around in her sleeping clothes while he looked dressed to the nine. Like always.
He shook both things in his hands, the noise bringing her attention back to him. He continued to smile while Anastasia frowned, attempting to look indifferent at how Seokjin was now seeing her in all her unkempt glory. She snatched the manila envelope from him, pivoting on her heels and making her way back into the kitchen. Seokjin would surely be behind her and the resounding beep of her security lock only confirmed it.
He slid the bag on the small island in her kitchenette. Anastasia filled the electric kettle with water, pulling out two mugs. She wouldn’t give him the pleasure of hearing her ask if he wanted tea. She’d just give it to him and dare him to be rude and not drink it.
Out of the corner of her eye, Anastasia watched Seokjin taking in his surroundings – as if he were appraising her interior decorating choices.
Say something, she thought, I dare you.
“I like your place, Anastasia,” he commented while folding his hands behind his back, still looking around.
“Thanks,” she muttered through clenched teeth. She’d never tell him that she appreciated his compliment.
The kettle whistled with life and she threw two oolong tea bags into the cups, pouring the boiling water over them. She set the steaming cup on the counter while cradling her own cup between her hands. Seokjin noticed the cup of tea and he smiled, reaching out for it as he bowed his head politely.
“Thank you for the tea,” he said, blowing the steam over the rim of the mug. Anastasia took a seat in one of the chairs at the counter and he sat next to her. “Enjoying your day off?”
She rolled her eyes. “Should I not be?” Sipping the tea carefully, she set it down off to the side so she could open the manila envelope. “I can’t believe you drew this up in three days.”
He gave an easy grin to her and shrugged one shoulder. “I’m a man of my word.”
“You gave me no such thing,” Anastasia responded with snark, opening the flap of the envelope and pulling out a stack of papers. Her eyes took note of how thick the contract was and she had to force herself to keep a neutral expression. “Jesus.”
“I left nothing to chance.”
She scoffed. “We’ll see about that.”
Reaching over the counter, she fished around the container where some of her kitchen utensils were until he fingers grasped the handle of something. Pulling it forward, she flopped back into the chair and lifted the magnifying glass up to her face. Anastasia could practically feel Seokjin’s eyes boring into the side of her head.
“…you actually have a magnifying glass?”
Whipping her head to glare at him, she raised a brow. “Why? Don’t you have one?”
Seokjin laughed. It seemed he was unable to hold it back and he held his hands up in surrender before reaching into the bag to retrieve a few containers. “Take your time then,” he said, setting out the containers of fresh fruit, croissants, jam and a carton of orange juice.
“I will, thank you.”
As he set himself to the task of putting breakfast together, Anastasia’s eyes moved back to the contract. All she needed to do was find one thing wrong and she could tell him to get to stepping. Sure, it was an offer that a person would be stupid to refuse. Anastasia wasn’t stupid. If anything, she’d been money hungry since she was a child. Her family kept pushing her to focus on a career that was stable – forcing her to ultimately give up on her dream to open her own restaurant.
Making money was easy, she learned. Managing money was a little more complicated, but not impossible. Maintaining a business that could see success for years to come? That was something she’d lacked when she first started out on the path to her dream. A path she stepped out onto faithfully and failed at walking on miserably. Business finance was her next step and she found that she had a knack for it and there was a darker side of her that loved the thrill of knowing how to handle large sums of money so easily – like they were handfuls of marbles.
Detail-oriented to the level of being a pest, Anastasia knew there was going to be a flaw. There was going to be a clause somewhere in that contract that wasn’t going to sit well with her. And when she finished stripping it down to the bare bones, she was going to send Seokjin packing.
But with each turn of the page, she felt her worries beginning to mount. Ten pages in and she hadn’t found anything misleading or dissatisfying with the terms of the contract. If anything, most of the details drawn up were in her favor. There was no penalty for breaking the deal once signatures were placed and if there was a breach of contract, it was the fault of the benefactor – the employer – and Golden Star would pay the price, as well as provide reparation and a hefty severance pay.
Overtime was given and any outside expenses were covered through Golden Star. Goosebumps peppered out across the back of her neck as a new realization dawned on her. From what the contract was stating, Golden Star was wanting to consolidate assets and merge several companies under a few umbrellas. They would invest in those ventures. All the companies were owned by people she knew.
They were all owned by the top-tiered members of The Golden Jackals.
“…shit.” Anastasia quickly slapped a hand over her mouth. She hadn’t meant for that to be said aloud.
Shifting her eyes toward Seokjin, he smiled as he handed her a plate with a croissant with cherry jam and a side of sliced apples and strawberries. “Something wrong?”
She hesitated at first before taking the plate from him, swallowing thickly as she set the plate down beside the contract. “No.” Her voice came out quiet and she turned to the last page.
All that was left was to sign her name. She looked to the left side of the paper to see that Seokjin had already signed his.
Seokjin leaned back in the chair, holding his mug of tea to his lips. “Is there anything not to your liking in the agreement?”
Anastasia set her magnifying glass down next to the plate, ignoring the soft clink it made when it hit the counter. She wasn’t sure she had enough words to properly convey what she was feeling. Hell, she didn’t even know what this feeling even was. She rarely needed to read something twice, but even if she did, she already knew that she would not find anything wrong with the contract.
It was perfect.
Dammit .
She’d lost and she knew it.
Worse still? Seokjin knew it too.
Lifting her head to look at him, he finished his tea and moved to stand. Anastasia remained rooted to her seat, watching him pick up her cup and heading into the kitchenette. The sound of running water barely registered until the clinking of glass brought her out of her inner thoughts. Looking at him, she saw him shrugging out of his blazer so that he could roll up his shirt sleeves.
“Wait a minute,” she began, rising to stand, “what are you doing?”
He picked up the broken mug and threw it into the trash, then set to cleaning the dishes. It didn’t take him long and she watched him set the mugs in the drying rack near the sink. Grabbing a clean kitchen cloth, he dried his hands and rolled his sleeves back down while looking at her.
“Enjoy your breakfast.”
Really? That was all he had to say after all that? No bragging, gloating, or rubbing into her face that he’d succeeded where she believed he would fail?
She watched him slide back into his blazer, fixing the lapels of the jacket. He brushed some of his hair out of his eyes and gave her a knowing wink, his legs moving toward the front door. He stepped out of the house slippers and put on his dress shoes, lacing them up swiftly and then turning to glance at her over his shoulder.
“So,” he said, his smile widening a measure, “I’ll see you in two weeks.” Seokjin’s eyes flitted down to the contract. “Bring that with you.”
And then she watched him leave her apartment. It wasn’t until the latch clicked and her security lock slid into place did she finally react. Anastasia fell back into her chair and stared at the breakfast he’d prepared, wide-eyed and amazed. Her eyes moved to the contract and that was when she snapped, baring her teeth and then grabbing the paperwork. She threw it into the air, a loud yell bursting from her lungs.
He’d gotten the best of her. Again.
Once she’d calmed down, Anastasia let out a long sigh. There was no reason for her to say no. There was nothing in the contract that bound her to the point of feeling like a prisoner. 
So, really, there was only one thing left to do.
Pulling out her phone, she began typing out an email.
She would need to schedule a meeting with her supervisor first thing tomorrow morning.  
“Wait a minute,” she began, rising to stand, “what are you doing?”
He picked up the broken mug and threw it into the trash, then set to cleaning the dishes. It didn’t take him long and she watched him set the mugs in the drying rack near the sink. Grabbing a clean kitchen cloth, he dried his hands and rolled his sleeves back down while looking at her.
“Enjoy your breakfast.”
Really? That was all he had to say after all that? No bragging, gloating, or rubbing into her face that he’d succeeded where she believed he would fail?
She watched him slide back into his blazer, fixing the lapels of the jacket. He brushed some of his hair out of his eyes and gave her a knowing wink, his legs moving toward the front door. He stepped out of the house slippers and put on his dress shoes, lacing them up swiftly and then turning to glance at her over his shoulder.
“So,” he said, his smile widening a measure, “I’ll see you in two weeks.” Seokjin’s eyes flitted down to the contract. “Bring that with you.”
And then she watched him leave her apartment. It wasn’t until the latch clicked and her security lock slid into place did she finally react. Anastasia fell back into her chair and stared at the breakfast he’d prepared, wide-eyed and amazed. Her eyes moved to the contract and that was when she snapped, baring her teeth and then grabbing the paperwork. She threw it into the air, a loud yell bursting from her lungs.
He’d gotten the best of her. Again.
Once she’d calmed down, Anastasia let out a long sigh. There was no reason for her to say no. There was nothing in the contract that bound her to the point of feeling like a prisoner. 
So, really, there was only one thing left to do.
Pulling out her phone, she began typing out an email.
She would need to schedule a meeting with her supervisor first thing tomorrow morning.
16 notes · View notes